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Chp 1 The Song Begins
Something to Sing About by Lilachigh
Author’s note: Okay, for those of you who asked so nicely, and for those of you who might care to join the fun, this is the sequel to my story With This Ring. Buffy and Spike returned to Sunnydale from the alternate universe where they are husband and wife at the beginning of Season Five. We are now in Season Six and this takes place a few days after Once More, With Feeling.
Chapter One - The Song Begins
The oldest graveyard in Sunnydale was full of drifting mist, the light breeze doing no more than rustle the leaves in the grass and send them scuttering a few inches to build up in piles against the various tombstones.
Buffy Summers was sitting on a bronze plinth dedicated to Cyril Buckmaster III, staring at the great stone door of Spike’s crypt, arguing with herself, even though she knew in advance which of the selfs was going to win.
‘What you need to do is go home and get some sleep.”
“Or you could call in and check up on Spike.”
“Why would I need to check up on him? He’s OK.”
“But how do you know? He might be ill, or - or, doing something evil. ”
“What, with the chip working?”
“Well, he could still be out robbing someone or breaking in to a shop to get money or whisky or blood.”
“Then he won’t be in his crypt, will he!”
Buffy kicked her heels against the headstone, then stopped guiltily as it rocked under her strength. “Sorry, Cyril Buckmaster the Third,” she said. ‘Didn’t mean to give you a headache!’
She wondered vaguely who Cyril had been. His name rang a memory somewhere in her head, but she couldn’t place him. There had been so many bodies. She didn’t think he’d come back as a vamp, but to be honest, she couldn’t be sure. They rose, she staked them, they dusted. Night after night, month after month, year after year.
Once she’d enjoyed herself. Being the Slayer had been difficult, dangerous, even deadly, but she’d had a purpose in life. Since Willow and the others had brought her back from the dead, that purpose had vanished, to be replaced with a longing for something - someone. She wasn’t sure. She just felt she was waiting for one chapter to end and another to begin.
If only she could stop feeling angry all the time. She woke angry, bottling it up all day she would often catch sight of herself in a mirror and see it all there, bubbling away behind her cheerful smile, her happy voice.
From far away in town, a clock bell was tolling. Midnight! Where was Spike? She pouted. She hadn’t seen him for four or five days now - since Sweet the dancing demon had pirouetted into their lives and although she didn’t - of course - miss him in any way, there was a silly sort of aching inside her that she knew only he could get rid of.
It was odd, but lately Buffy had realised that she’d carried this strange pain deep inside her for over a year now. It was like a great bruise, but not one you could touch.
Sometimes it was very faint and she could ignore it; other times, like tonight, it hurt so much that if she hadn’t known she was the Slayer with increased healing powers in built, she would have been worried that some battle had hurt her internally around her heart.
Looking back she knew the ache had been there through all the trouble with Glory, had been there on the day she died, and even when Willow had brought her back, it had been one of the first things she’d noticed.
Oh, she’d had the torn knuckles and the mind that was going loopy, what with the being dragged out of heaven bit, but as well as all that, inside her the ache went on.
The oddest thing of all was that when she was with Spike, even if they were fighting or arguing, the pain went away. Buffy wondered if it was the result of some sort of demon poison that he’d given her at some point in their rocky relationship, although she couldn’t remember him ever getting that close to her.
Of course recently they’d kissed. They’d been close then and no mistake. She could still remember the taste of his mouth, the smell of him - whisky, cigarette smoke, the faint iron tang of blood. She could feel leather under her hands, the belt buckle digging in her waist.
Buffy hadn’t meant to kiss him and, of course, had explained later that she’d been feeling miserable due to the singing demon and letting her friends know they’d dragged her out of heaven, back to this hell called Sunnydale.
What was it she’d sung that strange evening? Give me something to sing about? Well, no one had answered her plea yet. Perhaps they never would.
The others were moving on. Willow and Tara, living rent free in her house - and yes, fine, that was because they’d been looking after Dawnie while she was dead, but hey, now some money would come in useful.
They were happy, planning a life together surrounded by magic. OK, they seemed to have argued about something recently, but Buffy knew their love for each other would overcome any petty worries.
Xander and Anya - Giles, even Dawn, growing up, moving on with her life. It was only her life that was set in stone, in a pattern that would never change: slaying, looking after Dawn, worrying about money, slaying, looking after Dawn, worrying about money, for ever and ever and.....
She kicked Cyril Buckmaster III again, but it didn’t make the anger go away.
She wasn’t even sure why she’d let Spike kiss her the other night after Sweet had vanished, and was even less sure about why she’d kissed him back so long and so thoroughly.
Even now she could feel the tingling sensation on her tongue that his kiss had caused. She could remember the dreadful desire she’d had to pull off his T shirt and rub herself against him, to pull down his zip and let herself -
She kicked the tombstone hard again and swayed as it rocked to and fro. Yes, tonight there was the added problem that she was feeling sexy and doing it to yourself in the shower was OK, but -
Well, sometimes in the dead of night -and, to be brutally honest, even during the day if she let it - when her brain was not fully under control - she wondered what it would be like if it was Spike running his fingers down her breasts, playing with her nipples, then plunging his fingers inside her, whispering in her ear, “Come for me, Buffy, oh God, that’s right, come harder and harder and - ’
She almost fell off the tomb when the voice she’d been imagining in her mind said in her ear, “At a loose end, Slayer? Or just slumming?”
“God Spike, why do you always have to creep up on me?”
The vampire stood, platinum head on one side, gazing at her, his daytime sapphire eyes as dark as a midnight sky in the overcast night. “Sorry,” he said briefly.
Buffy waited for the rest of the sarcastic remark, then realised a long silence was taking place.
“Sorry? Is that all you can say?”
Spike sighed. “Very sorry, then, how about that? Now, Slayer, is there something you want? Li’l Bit okay? Not gone missing again?”
“No, she’s fine. She has a crush on a boy at school - ”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of a crush?”
“Oh don’t worry. They don’t actually speak! As far as I can tell, she and her best friend Janice just stand and giggle whenever he walks past and there isn’t a square inch of her notebook covers that doesn’t have his name written on it in various colored inks.”
“And that name is?” Spike inquired silkily.
“Collin. But, honestly, Spike, he’s okay. Dawn doesn’t have a hoop sticking out of her head so he isn’t interested.” She sighed at the look of bewilderment that crossed the vampire’s face. “Basketball. You know, guys running around throwing big balls through little metal rings?”
“I’ve tried getting her interested in football - proper football, what you lot call soccer,“ Spike said gloomily. “But all she did was buy a poster of bloody Thierry Henri to stick up in me crypt and he plays for Arsenal! As if I’d sit looking at a sodding Gunner. And a sodding French Gunner at that!”
Buffy let all this sail over her head. She’d always found that a sensible way of dealing with guys and sport be they dead or alive. You smiled sweetly, said yes and no in shocked tones at various intervals and made sure you didn’t wear the wrong colour sweater on match days.
“So, can I come in?” she said at last, breaking into his thoughts and comments about England's chances in the next World Cup.
Spike came closer and she shivered and rocked the tombstone back and forwards.
“What for?”
“What?”
“Bleeding hell, Slayer, it’s a fairly straight forward question. What do you want to come into my home for?”
“Your home?”
Spike raised his eyebrows and sighed. “Like talking to a parrot tonight. Concentrate, pet. That large stone building behind us is a crypt, right? It’s also my home. Where I live - where I drink my blood and watch telly. Where I sleep - oh!” He took another step closer to her. “Is that what this is all about? You’ve come over for a bit more kissing, eh? Or do you want to take the next step? I know lots of things we could do to pass the time till morning.”
“What? No. Jeez, Spike, get your mind out of your trousers. I’ve told you, that kiss was just a - momentary lapse. I just thought I’d...call round....see how you’re doing...check up on.... Oh, you’re impossible. I’m going home!”
She leapt off the tombstone and turned to go, but he reached out and grabbed her arm. “Not so fast, Slayer. What the hell’s going on with you and me? What do you want?”
She shivered at the feel of his cool fingers on her skin. She tugged her arm away, growing angry now. She hated being at a disadvantage to anyone, especially Spike.
“Nothing’s going on between us, Spike and nothing ever will,” she snapped. “I was trying to be friendly, that’s all, but obviously you’d rather I wasn’t.”
“Is that what you want from me, Buffy? Friendship? Don’t you have enough people in Sunnydale to give you that already? Oh no, come to think of it, you don’t. Red has her witchy friend. Xander has his demon girl. Two very odd couples, but couples all the same. Lots of lust and love and sex going on all round you, eh. Makes you feel left out, does it? Got all the urges and itches and no one to scratch them for you? Perhaps none of them has time for you these days. Is that it? Mind you, there’s always dear old Rupert, although sometimes I wonder exactly what sort of feelings he really has for you! Just friendship?”
Buffy gasped. Effortlessly he’d brought out every concern she had about her place in the Scooby group. Things that she’d only vaguely worried about were now in plain view. “Pig! Double pig! Everything you say or do is evil, Spike. Nasty, dirty and evil!”
She swung her hand and slapped him hard on the cheek. With a growl he slapped her back and she flung herself full length at him, fists flying. Punching and yelling, they rolled over and over, tangled up in Spike’s leather coat, each trying to land a blow that would hurt.
Suddenly, Spike pulled back, his face a picture of astonishment. Suffering hell, he could hit her without the chip going off in his head! What in heaven’s name - “Buffy - the chip - ” he started to say, but she was on top of him again, raining down blows onto his face, not listening, trying to get all the anger and despair and loneliness out of her by punching him, hurting him....
Spike found himself jammed up against the bronze tombstone. He couldn’t move, could feel blood running down his chin from a split lip. He tried to jerk his head to one side and his shoulder caught the headstone and it rocked. The letters above his head swung dizzily around Buffy’s flying fists.
Spike tried to grab her hands, she was crying now, out of control, the dam that had been holding back all the pain and betrayal and anguish had finally broken, just as he’d hoped it would. Only problem was, he was right in its path.
The name ‘Cyril Buckmaster III ’rocked down towards him and away again. Again her fist thudded into his face and all he could think of now was why was that name so familiar, why did he have this picture in his head of him and Buffy standing in this graveyard together, watching as the tombstone was put into place? Laughing about the made up name.
He’d contributed Cyril and she’d come up with Buckmaster because....because it was nearly rude but not quite! She’d said every time she read it she’d remember how he’d - remember what?
Why could he feel their clasped hands linking together and then slipping apart?
‘Buffy! Stop it! For god’s sake, listen to me for once in your life.” But she wouldn’t and he didn’t understand why his wife was doing this...... Sodding hell! His wife!
He tried to swing his arm up and Buffy fell sideways. Her weight was the last straw for Cyril Buckmaster III. The bronze tombstone toppled backwards, pulling its plinth from the earth and revealing a bright orange and purple portal in the ground beneath .
Buffy was still rolling over and as she clutched at Spike, they both fell through the flashing, pulsating circle of light. And in that split second, before they disappeared from view, she realised that the empty bruised space she’d been carrying inside her for so long was now completely filled.
to be continued
Author’s note: Okay, for those of you who asked so nicely, and for those of you who might care to join the fun, this is the sequel to my story With This Ring. Buffy and Spike returned to Sunnydale from the alternate universe where they are husband and wife at the beginning of Season Five. We are now in Season Six and this takes place a few days after Once More, With Feeling.
Chapter One - The Song Begins
The oldest graveyard in Sunnydale was full of drifting mist, the light breeze doing no more than rustle the leaves in the grass and send them scuttering a few inches to build up in piles against the various tombstones.
Buffy Summers was sitting on a bronze plinth dedicated to Cyril Buckmaster III, staring at the great stone door of Spike’s crypt, arguing with herself, even though she knew in advance which of the selfs was going to win.
‘What you need to do is go home and get some sleep.”
“Or you could call in and check up on Spike.”
“Why would I need to check up on him? He’s OK.”
“But how do you know? He might be ill, or - or, doing something evil. ”
“What, with the chip working?”
“Well, he could still be out robbing someone or breaking in to a shop to get money or whisky or blood.”
“Then he won’t be in his crypt, will he!”
Buffy kicked her heels against the headstone, then stopped guiltily as it rocked under her strength. “Sorry, Cyril Buckmaster the Third,” she said. ‘Didn’t mean to give you a headache!’
She wondered vaguely who Cyril had been. His name rang a memory somewhere in her head, but she couldn’t place him. There had been so many bodies. She didn’t think he’d come back as a vamp, but to be honest, she couldn’t be sure. They rose, she staked them, they dusted. Night after night, month after month, year after year.
Once she’d enjoyed herself. Being the Slayer had been difficult, dangerous, even deadly, but she’d had a purpose in life. Since Willow and the others had brought her back from the dead, that purpose had vanished, to be replaced with a longing for something - someone. She wasn’t sure. She just felt she was waiting for one chapter to end and another to begin.
If only she could stop feeling angry all the time. She woke angry, bottling it up all day she would often catch sight of herself in a mirror and see it all there, bubbling away behind her cheerful smile, her happy voice.
From far away in town, a clock bell was tolling. Midnight! Where was Spike? She pouted. She hadn’t seen him for four or five days now - since Sweet the dancing demon had pirouetted into their lives and although she didn’t - of course - miss him in any way, there was a silly sort of aching inside her that she knew only he could get rid of.
It was odd, but lately Buffy had realised that she’d carried this strange pain deep inside her for over a year now. It was like a great bruise, but not one you could touch.
Sometimes it was very faint and she could ignore it; other times, like tonight, it hurt so much that if she hadn’t known she was the Slayer with increased healing powers in built, she would have been worried that some battle had hurt her internally around her heart.
Looking back she knew the ache had been there through all the trouble with Glory, had been there on the day she died, and even when Willow had brought her back, it had been one of the first things she’d noticed.
Oh, she’d had the torn knuckles and the mind that was going loopy, what with the being dragged out of heaven bit, but as well as all that, inside her the ache went on.
The oddest thing of all was that when she was with Spike, even if they were fighting or arguing, the pain went away. Buffy wondered if it was the result of some sort of demon poison that he’d given her at some point in their rocky relationship, although she couldn’t remember him ever getting that close to her.
Of course recently they’d kissed. They’d been close then and no mistake. She could still remember the taste of his mouth, the smell of him - whisky, cigarette smoke, the faint iron tang of blood. She could feel leather under her hands, the belt buckle digging in her waist.
Buffy hadn’t meant to kiss him and, of course, had explained later that she’d been feeling miserable due to the singing demon and letting her friends know they’d dragged her out of heaven, back to this hell called Sunnydale.
What was it she’d sung that strange evening? Give me something to sing about? Well, no one had answered her plea yet. Perhaps they never would.
The others were moving on. Willow and Tara, living rent free in her house - and yes, fine, that was because they’d been looking after Dawnie while she was dead, but hey, now some money would come in useful.
They were happy, planning a life together surrounded by magic. OK, they seemed to have argued about something recently, but Buffy knew their love for each other would overcome any petty worries.
Xander and Anya - Giles, even Dawn, growing up, moving on with her life. It was only her life that was set in stone, in a pattern that would never change: slaying, looking after Dawn, worrying about money, slaying, looking after Dawn, worrying about money, for ever and ever and.....
She kicked Cyril Buckmaster III again, but it didn’t make the anger go away.
She wasn’t even sure why she’d let Spike kiss her the other night after Sweet had vanished, and was even less sure about why she’d kissed him back so long and so thoroughly.
Even now she could feel the tingling sensation on her tongue that his kiss had caused. She could remember the dreadful desire she’d had to pull off his T shirt and rub herself against him, to pull down his zip and let herself -
She kicked the tombstone hard again and swayed as it rocked to and fro. Yes, tonight there was the added problem that she was feeling sexy and doing it to yourself in the shower was OK, but -
Well, sometimes in the dead of night -and, to be brutally honest, even during the day if she let it - when her brain was not fully under control - she wondered what it would be like if it was Spike running his fingers down her breasts, playing with her nipples, then plunging his fingers inside her, whispering in her ear, “Come for me, Buffy, oh God, that’s right, come harder and harder and - ’
She almost fell off the tomb when the voice she’d been imagining in her mind said in her ear, “At a loose end, Slayer? Or just slumming?”
“God Spike, why do you always have to creep up on me?”
The vampire stood, platinum head on one side, gazing at her, his daytime sapphire eyes as dark as a midnight sky in the overcast night. “Sorry,” he said briefly.
Buffy waited for the rest of the sarcastic remark, then realised a long silence was taking place.
“Sorry? Is that all you can say?”
Spike sighed. “Very sorry, then, how about that? Now, Slayer, is there something you want? Li’l Bit okay? Not gone missing again?”
“No, she’s fine. She has a crush on a boy at school - ”
Spike’s eyes narrowed. “What sort of a crush?”
“Oh don’t worry. They don’t actually speak! As far as I can tell, she and her best friend Janice just stand and giggle whenever he walks past and there isn’t a square inch of her notebook covers that doesn’t have his name written on it in various colored inks.”
“And that name is?” Spike inquired silkily.
“Collin. But, honestly, Spike, he’s okay. Dawn doesn’t have a hoop sticking out of her head so he isn’t interested.” She sighed at the look of bewilderment that crossed the vampire’s face. “Basketball. You know, guys running around throwing big balls through little metal rings?”
“I’ve tried getting her interested in football - proper football, what you lot call soccer,“ Spike said gloomily. “But all she did was buy a poster of bloody Thierry Henri to stick up in me crypt and he plays for Arsenal! As if I’d sit looking at a sodding Gunner. And a sodding French Gunner at that!”
Buffy let all this sail over her head. She’d always found that a sensible way of dealing with guys and sport be they dead or alive. You smiled sweetly, said yes and no in shocked tones at various intervals and made sure you didn’t wear the wrong colour sweater on match days.
“So, can I come in?” she said at last, breaking into his thoughts and comments about England's chances in the next World Cup.
Spike came closer and she shivered and rocked the tombstone back and forwards.
“What for?”
“What?”
“Bleeding hell, Slayer, it’s a fairly straight forward question. What do you want to come into my home for?”
“Your home?”
Spike raised his eyebrows and sighed. “Like talking to a parrot tonight. Concentrate, pet. That large stone building behind us is a crypt, right? It’s also my home. Where I live - where I drink my blood and watch telly. Where I sleep - oh!” He took another step closer to her. “Is that what this is all about? You’ve come over for a bit more kissing, eh? Or do you want to take the next step? I know lots of things we could do to pass the time till morning.”
“What? No. Jeez, Spike, get your mind out of your trousers. I’ve told you, that kiss was just a - momentary lapse. I just thought I’d...call round....see how you’re doing...check up on.... Oh, you’re impossible. I’m going home!”
She leapt off the tombstone and turned to go, but he reached out and grabbed her arm. “Not so fast, Slayer. What the hell’s going on with you and me? What do you want?”
She shivered at the feel of his cool fingers on her skin. She tugged her arm away, growing angry now. She hated being at a disadvantage to anyone, especially Spike.
“Nothing’s going on between us, Spike and nothing ever will,” she snapped. “I was trying to be friendly, that’s all, but obviously you’d rather I wasn’t.”
“Is that what you want from me, Buffy? Friendship? Don’t you have enough people in Sunnydale to give you that already? Oh no, come to think of it, you don’t. Red has her witchy friend. Xander has his demon girl. Two very odd couples, but couples all the same. Lots of lust and love and sex going on all round you, eh. Makes you feel left out, does it? Got all the urges and itches and no one to scratch them for you? Perhaps none of them has time for you these days. Is that it? Mind you, there’s always dear old Rupert, although sometimes I wonder exactly what sort of feelings he really has for you! Just friendship?”
Buffy gasped. Effortlessly he’d brought out every concern she had about her place in the Scooby group. Things that she’d only vaguely worried about were now in plain view. “Pig! Double pig! Everything you say or do is evil, Spike. Nasty, dirty and evil!”
She swung her hand and slapped him hard on the cheek. With a growl he slapped her back and she flung herself full length at him, fists flying. Punching and yelling, they rolled over and over, tangled up in Spike’s leather coat, each trying to land a blow that would hurt.
Suddenly, Spike pulled back, his face a picture of astonishment. Suffering hell, he could hit her without the chip going off in his head! What in heaven’s name - “Buffy - the chip - ” he started to say, but she was on top of him again, raining down blows onto his face, not listening, trying to get all the anger and despair and loneliness out of her by punching him, hurting him....
Spike found himself jammed up against the bronze tombstone. He couldn’t move, could feel blood running down his chin from a split lip. He tried to jerk his head to one side and his shoulder caught the headstone and it rocked. The letters above his head swung dizzily around Buffy’s flying fists.
Spike tried to grab her hands, she was crying now, out of control, the dam that had been holding back all the pain and betrayal and anguish had finally broken, just as he’d hoped it would. Only problem was, he was right in its path.
The name ‘Cyril Buckmaster III ’rocked down towards him and away again. Again her fist thudded into his face and all he could think of now was why was that name so familiar, why did he have this picture in his head of him and Buffy standing in this graveyard together, watching as the tombstone was put into place? Laughing about the made up name.
He’d contributed Cyril and she’d come up with Buckmaster because....because it was nearly rude but not quite! She’d said every time she read it she’d remember how he’d - remember what?
Why could he feel their clasped hands linking together and then slipping apart?
‘Buffy! Stop it! For god’s sake, listen to me for once in your life.” But she wouldn’t and he didn’t understand why his wife was doing this...... Sodding hell! His wife!
He tried to swing his arm up and Buffy fell sideways. Her weight was the last straw for Cyril Buckmaster III. The bronze tombstone toppled backwards, pulling its plinth from the earth and revealing a bright orange and purple portal in the ground beneath .
Buffy was still rolling over and as she clutched at Spike, they both fell through the flashing, pulsating circle of light. And in that split second, before they disappeared from view, she realised that the empty bruised space she’d been carrying inside her for so long was now completely filled.
to be continued
Chp 2 Welcome Back
Something to Sing About by Lilachigh
Chapter Two : Welcome Back
Author’s note: For those of you who haven‘t read With This Ring... here is a quick explanation of the characters in the alternate Sunnydale. When they first went through the portal at the time of Something Blue, Buffy and Spike called the people they met Willow Two and Xander Two, etc. but that was shortened to WillT and XanT, etc.
WillT lived with OzT, XanT, the town drunk, had a girlfriend TaraT . AnyaT was the battered wife of ParkerT and worked behind the bar at the Bronze. CordyT was forced to leave town at end of With This Ring after her vampire boyfriend AngelT was staked by XanT.
For ease of reading, I’m dropping the T from now on. Just remember this isn’t Kansas, Toto.
With a tremendous thud, two bodies came hurtling through the purple and orange flashing portal between the two Sunnydales and crashed onto the kitchen floor of Revello Drive, sending the plastic bucket that covered the entrance in this world flying across the room.
For a long minute or two, neither moved. Buffy was lying on top of Spike, her head pillowed on his black T shirt. His hands were tangled in her hair and one leg was pressed possessively between hers, scrunching up her skirt and pushing hard against her bright red thong.
Finally she squirmed to increase the pressure of denim against silk enjoying the sensations that flooded through her. Then she was aware that something else was flooding and two very blue eyes blinked open above her.
“Bloody hell!”
“I don’t approve of you swearing, but yes, bloody hell seems to sum it up pretty well.”
Reluctantly, Spike rolled off her and stood up in one lithe, graceful movement. “We’re back in the other Sunnydale, aren’t we?”
“You remember?”
“The second we came through the portal.” He reached down and pulled her to her feet. “Last time we were here, Xan staked Angel, Will and Oz were a couple and Cordy and Harm had gone to the bad! There’s quite a lot to remember.”
Buffy stared at him. “You’re forgetting the most important part.”
Spike raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Oh, you mean the fact that we’re husband and wife! No, I think I’ve always remembered that, somewhere in the back of my brain and definitely in other parts of my body! What about you, pet? You were the one who wanted to go back to not remembering the last time we were here.”
Buffy made a show of brushing herself down. The kitchen floor seemed to be incredibly dirty. “I seemed to have so much more important work to do back there than here. And Mom was in Sunnydale but here she was living with my aunt. I wonder - ” She gazed round apprehensively. “Why is it so dark, Spike?”
The vampire frowned and moved to the window. Cautiously he pulled back the curtain but the familiar street lights and lamps in neighbours’ windows failed to cut through the gloom. “Power failure?” he muttered and flicked the light switch up and down. Nothing happened.
Buffy crossed to the fridge. The door was propped open and the inside was empty. Swiftly she opened and shut a few more doors then turned to Spike. “It’s weird. The house seems deserted.” She ran a finger along one of the work surfaces. “And it’s filthy. No one’s cleaned in here for ages, Spike. That means - I suppose Mom is dead in this world, too.” Her voice shook with repeated anguish.
Spike went to her swiftly and pulled her into his arms, his hand tenderly cupping the back of her neck. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Slayer. She may just have gone to live with your aunt permanently. She was spending months at a time with her when we were last here, remember?”
Buffy sighed and pushed herself away from the comfort of his hug. She had to stay strong and relying on Spike for support was not the best way of doing that. “So do we stay or do we go home?” she asked, gazing across the kitchen to where the purple and orange portal was whirling and blinking in the corner.
Spike frowned. The memories were coming back thick and fast. In this world, Buffy had ended up refusing to believe she loved him. She’d always been convinced that, no matter what her heart told her, it was Willow’s spell, forcing them to marry, that made her feel the way she did.
He, on the other hand, had no doubts at all. He loved her in both worlds and was only relieved that whatever magical powers had made the portal between the two universes, they had been kind enough not to let him remember their marriage back in the other Sunnydale.
If he’d had to live through these past months, through Buffy’s death when she jumped off the tower, knowing that they were officially married but he couldn’t tell anyone, he thought he would probably have gone completely off his bloody head.
“Do you want to go back?” he asked softly. “Without checking up on what’s been happening here first? Aren’t you the tiniest bit interested, pet?”
Buffy crossed to the window and gazed out. It was so very dark, not even a flicker of starlight broke the blackness of the sky above. Home - a world that was all hard and bright and angry. Back to trying to bring up Dawn with little or no money; the Scoobies’ pleased faces she’d returned from the dead. And now, after the demon Sweet’s arrival on the scene and her confession about being pulled out of heaven, she would have to deal with Willow’s guilt, Xander’s forced cheerfulness, Tara and Anya trying to say the right things and failing. Giles leaving to go back to England.
And, most of all, she would be returning to struggle against an attraction to Spike that was weird and worrying. Here - well, at least the attraction had some foundation. Here they were married. She felt his hands clasp her shoulders and leant back against him. Peace. Rest. A sense of coming home. All these feelings flooded through her.
Okay, it wasn’t love, she told herself firmly, because she had already explained to herself, over and over again, that those emotions were false, engendered by Willow’s spell, years ago.
But being with Spike made her feel things she couldn’t with other people. Colours were brighter, all her sensations heightened. The moon was bigger, ice cream colder. And she knew that there was someone there, guarding her back, who would never let her down.
Wasn’t that what she had sung to the demon - Give me Something to Sing About. That was what she wanted in her life. To feel again. So, as long as she remembered that it wasn’t love she felt for Spike, she thought sensibly, she could remain in control. But whatever it was she felt, she needed it at the moment. So perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to spend a day or two here in this Sunnydale, just to escape from all her worries for a little while.
Like a little holiday, she reasoned. Two days out. She’d recharge her batteries then return through the portal, ready to face everything that the first Sunnydale could throw at her.
“Okay,” she said. “We’ll stay for a while. I must admit I’d like to check in with Will and Oz. See how they’re doing.”
Spike gave her a hard hug. He could feel her tense in his arms and rejected the idea of inviting her upstairs to where their bed awaited. “That’s my girl. OK, let’s get going. Nice and dark out. We can be at Will’s house in five minutes.”
The street seemed deserted outside. Buffy shivered as they walked, hand in hand. along the sidewalk. There were no lights in any of the houses - no cars driving along the road.
“Jeez, this is mega odd, Spike,”’ she said at last. “No street lights, nothing. There must have been a massive power black-out.”
Spike frowned uneasily, his sharp gaze flicking to where bushes on the other side of the street were moving ominously. Whatever was behind them had been following them since they left Revello Drive. “Slayer - ?”
“I know, I can hear them,” she replied softly. “Vampires?”
Spike shook his head, his fingers tightening over hers. “No, but there’s something wrong, pet. They stink of blood.”
Just then the bushes parted and a gang of six or seven creatures lurched out to surround them. Men and women, clothes hanging in filthy rags, hands and arms so thin they were almost walking skeletons. Great sores had broken out on their faces which were contorted with pain. Their hair - what remained of it - was thick with dirt and grease and they drooled from toothless mouths that made deep baying sounds, like a pack of hungry wolves.
Buffy stared in disgust and horror, pulling a stake from her belt, automatically turning back to back with Spike, feeling him vamp into game face. Then she hesitated and put the stake away. “Spike, I can’t fight them! They’re human. I thought demons, but they’re not.”
“Bloody hell, Slayer. Whatever they are, they seem anxious to have us for a little light refreshment,” Spike growled, kicking out as one of the men made a rush at him. His boot caught the man on the knee and he wheeled away, howling.
As if that was a signal, the others shrieked and ran at Buffy, hands outstretched, fingers like claws, what teeth they had left in their mouths, gleaming with blood. Buffy punched two swiftly as Spike fought off the rest. “Spike, don’t kill them! I think they’re sick!” she yelled. “Make a run for Will’s house. Go! Now!”
She lashed out with her foot, tossing a woman aside into a front yard. It broke the circle and together she and Spike raced down the road, their Slayer/Vampire speed taking them clear of the baying mob. But even as they ran, one thought blazed through her brain. In this world, Spike’s chip wasn’t working!
Round the next corner, Will’s house stood, dark and unwelcoming. Spike hurtled up the path and crashed through the front door. Buffy followed into the dark hallway, spinning round to help Spike slam the door shut and barricade it with the heavy oak chest that had once belonged to Will’s grandmother.
The screaming gang could still be heard outside, but after a few minutes, the sounds diminished into the distance.
“Great welcoming committee, pet,” Spike drawled, digging out his cigarette lighter and flicking it on. In the light of the yellow flame, Buffy could see his eyes sparkling, a smear of blood down one cheek.
“Who on earth were they?” she asked, bemused.
“Don’t you know? They’re here because of you!” A familiar voice made them both turn, the flame flaring higher as Spike lifted it up to shed more light.
Will stood on the stairs, a wooden baseball bat clutched in her hand, raised as a weapon. Her red hair was longer, greasily tied back with a green ribbon. She looked weary and pale and her face was streaked with dirt. She was wearing red and green checked trousers and a black shirt that Buffy’s guessed belonged to Oz because it hung on her slight frame.
“Willow!” Buffy exclaimed and held out her hand, thrilled to see this version of her friend again.
To her surprise, Will ignored the gesture. “Why have you come back, Buffy?” she asked hoarsely. “Haven’t you done enough damage, you and your vampire? Is life so boring in your other world that you need to come and gloat over how bad ours is now?”
“Will, I don’t understand - ” Buffy began.
“Just get out of my house, Buffy! Get out! I don’t want you here. You left us to manage on our own. You didn’t care what happened to us. So get out. I don’t want to have to look at your traitorous faces any longer!”
to be continued.
Chapter Two : Welcome Back
Author’s note: For those of you who haven‘t read With This Ring... here is a quick explanation of the characters in the alternate Sunnydale. When they first went through the portal at the time of Something Blue, Buffy and Spike called the people they met Willow Two and Xander Two, etc. but that was shortened to WillT and XanT, etc.
WillT lived with OzT, XanT, the town drunk, had a girlfriend TaraT . AnyaT was the battered wife of ParkerT and worked behind the bar at the Bronze. CordyT was forced to leave town at end of With This Ring after her vampire boyfriend AngelT was staked by XanT.
For ease of reading, I’m dropping the T from now on. Just remember this isn’t Kansas, Toto.
With a tremendous thud, two bodies came hurtling through the purple and orange flashing portal between the two Sunnydales and crashed onto the kitchen floor of Revello Drive, sending the plastic bucket that covered the entrance in this world flying across the room.
For a long minute or two, neither moved. Buffy was lying on top of Spike, her head pillowed on his black T shirt. His hands were tangled in her hair and one leg was pressed possessively between hers, scrunching up her skirt and pushing hard against her bright red thong.
Finally she squirmed to increase the pressure of denim against silk enjoying the sensations that flooded through her. Then she was aware that something else was flooding and two very blue eyes blinked open above her.
“Bloody hell!”
“I don’t approve of you swearing, but yes, bloody hell seems to sum it up pretty well.”
Reluctantly, Spike rolled off her and stood up in one lithe, graceful movement. “We’re back in the other Sunnydale, aren’t we?”
“You remember?”
“The second we came through the portal.” He reached down and pulled her to her feet. “Last time we were here, Xan staked Angel, Will and Oz were a couple and Cordy and Harm had gone to the bad! There’s quite a lot to remember.”
Buffy stared at him. “You’re forgetting the most important part.”
Spike raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Oh, you mean the fact that we’re husband and wife! No, I think I’ve always remembered that, somewhere in the back of my brain and definitely in other parts of my body! What about you, pet? You were the one who wanted to go back to not remembering the last time we were here.”
Buffy made a show of brushing herself down. The kitchen floor seemed to be incredibly dirty. “I seemed to have so much more important work to do back there than here. And Mom was in Sunnydale but here she was living with my aunt. I wonder - ” She gazed round apprehensively. “Why is it so dark, Spike?”
The vampire frowned and moved to the window. Cautiously he pulled back the curtain but the familiar street lights and lamps in neighbours’ windows failed to cut through the gloom. “Power failure?” he muttered and flicked the light switch up and down. Nothing happened.
Buffy crossed to the fridge. The door was propped open and the inside was empty. Swiftly she opened and shut a few more doors then turned to Spike. “It’s weird. The house seems deserted.” She ran a finger along one of the work surfaces. “And it’s filthy. No one’s cleaned in here for ages, Spike. That means - I suppose Mom is dead in this world, too.” Her voice shook with repeated anguish.
Spike went to her swiftly and pulled her into his arms, his hand tenderly cupping the back of her neck. “Don’t jump to conclusions, Slayer. She may just have gone to live with your aunt permanently. She was spending months at a time with her when we were last here, remember?”
Buffy sighed and pushed herself away from the comfort of his hug. She had to stay strong and relying on Spike for support was not the best way of doing that. “So do we stay or do we go home?” she asked, gazing across the kitchen to where the purple and orange portal was whirling and blinking in the corner.
Spike frowned. The memories were coming back thick and fast. In this world, Buffy had ended up refusing to believe she loved him. She’d always been convinced that, no matter what her heart told her, it was Willow’s spell, forcing them to marry, that made her feel the way she did.
He, on the other hand, had no doubts at all. He loved her in both worlds and was only relieved that whatever magical powers had made the portal between the two universes, they had been kind enough not to let him remember their marriage back in the other Sunnydale.
If he’d had to live through these past months, through Buffy’s death when she jumped off the tower, knowing that they were officially married but he couldn’t tell anyone, he thought he would probably have gone completely off his bloody head.
“Do you want to go back?” he asked softly. “Without checking up on what’s been happening here first? Aren’t you the tiniest bit interested, pet?”
Buffy crossed to the window and gazed out. It was so very dark, not even a flicker of starlight broke the blackness of the sky above. Home - a world that was all hard and bright and angry. Back to trying to bring up Dawn with little or no money; the Scoobies’ pleased faces she’d returned from the dead. And now, after the demon Sweet’s arrival on the scene and her confession about being pulled out of heaven, she would have to deal with Willow’s guilt, Xander’s forced cheerfulness, Tara and Anya trying to say the right things and failing. Giles leaving to go back to England.
And, most of all, she would be returning to struggle against an attraction to Spike that was weird and worrying. Here - well, at least the attraction had some foundation. Here they were married. She felt his hands clasp her shoulders and leant back against him. Peace. Rest. A sense of coming home. All these feelings flooded through her.
Okay, it wasn’t love, she told herself firmly, because she had already explained to herself, over and over again, that those emotions were false, engendered by Willow’s spell, years ago.
But being with Spike made her feel things she couldn’t with other people. Colours were brighter, all her sensations heightened. The moon was bigger, ice cream colder. And she knew that there was someone there, guarding her back, who would never let her down.
Wasn’t that what she had sung to the demon - Give me Something to Sing About. That was what she wanted in her life. To feel again. So, as long as she remembered that it wasn’t love she felt for Spike, she thought sensibly, she could remain in control. But whatever it was she felt, she needed it at the moment. So perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to spend a day or two here in this Sunnydale, just to escape from all her worries for a little while.
Like a little holiday, she reasoned. Two days out. She’d recharge her batteries then return through the portal, ready to face everything that the first Sunnydale could throw at her.
“Okay,” she said. “We’ll stay for a while. I must admit I’d like to check in with Will and Oz. See how they’re doing.”
Spike gave her a hard hug. He could feel her tense in his arms and rejected the idea of inviting her upstairs to where their bed awaited. “That’s my girl. OK, let’s get going. Nice and dark out. We can be at Will’s house in five minutes.”
The street seemed deserted outside. Buffy shivered as they walked, hand in hand. along the sidewalk. There were no lights in any of the houses - no cars driving along the road.
“Jeez, this is mega odd, Spike,”’ she said at last. “No street lights, nothing. There must have been a massive power black-out.”
Spike frowned uneasily, his sharp gaze flicking to where bushes on the other side of the street were moving ominously. Whatever was behind them had been following them since they left Revello Drive. “Slayer - ?”
“I know, I can hear them,” she replied softly. “Vampires?”
Spike shook his head, his fingers tightening over hers. “No, but there’s something wrong, pet. They stink of blood.”
Just then the bushes parted and a gang of six or seven creatures lurched out to surround them. Men and women, clothes hanging in filthy rags, hands and arms so thin they were almost walking skeletons. Great sores had broken out on their faces which were contorted with pain. Their hair - what remained of it - was thick with dirt and grease and they drooled from toothless mouths that made deep baying sounds, like a pack of hungry wolves.
Buffy stared in disgust and horror, pulling a stake from her belt, automatically turning back to back with Spike, feeling him vamp into game face. Then she hesitated and put the stake away. “Spike, I can’t fight them! They’re human. I thought demons, but they’re not.”
“Bloody hell, Slayer. Whatever they are, they seem anxious to have us for a little light refreshment,” Spike growled, kicking out as one of the men made a rush at him. His boot caught the man on the knee and he wheeled away, howling.
As if that was a signal, the others shrieked and ran at Buffy, hands outstretched, fingers like claws, what teeth they had left in their mouths, gleaming with blood. Buffy punched two swiftly as Spike fought off the rest. “Spike, don’t kill them! I think they’re sick!” she yelled. “Make a run for Will’s house. Go! Now!”
She lashed out with her foot, tossing a woman aside into a front yard. It broke the circle and together she and Spike raced down the road, their Slayer/Vampire speed taking them clear of the baying mob. But even as they ran, one thought blazed through her brain. In this world, Spike’s chip wasn’t working!
Round the next corner, Will’s house stood, dark and unwelcoming. Spike hurtled up the path and crashed through the front door. Buffy followed into the dark hallway, spinning round to help Spike slam the door shut and barricade it with the heavy oak chest that had once belonged to Will’s grandmother.
The screaming gang could still be heard outside, but after a few minutes, the sounds diminished into the distance.
“Great welcoming committee, pet,” Spike drawled, digging out his cigarette lighter and flicking it on. In the light of the yellow flame, Buffy could see his eyes sparkling, a smear of blood down one cheek.
“Who on earth were they?” she asked, bemused.
“Don’t you know? They’re here because of you!” A familiar voice made them both turn, the flame flaring higher as Spike lifted it up to shed more light.
Will stood on the stairs, a wooden baseball bat clutched in her hand, raised as a weapon. Her red hair was longer, greasily tied back with a green ribbon. She looked weary and pale and her face was streaked with dirt. She was wearing red and green checked trousers and a black shirt that Buffy’s guessed belonged to Oz because it hung on her slight frame.
“Willow!” Buffy exclaimed and held out her hand, thrilled to see this version of her friend again.
To her surprise, Will ignored the gesture. “Why have you come back, Buffy?” she asked hoarsely. “Haven’t you done enough damage, you and your vampire? Is life so boring in your other world that you need to come and gloat over how bad ours is now?”
“Will, I don’t understand - ” Buffy began.
“Just get out of my house, Buffy! Get out! I don’t want you here. You left us to manage on our own. You didn’t care what happened to us. So get out. I don’t want to have to look at your traitorous faces any longer!”
to be continued.
Chp 3 All Over Again
Something to Sing About by Lilachigh
Chapter 3 All Over Again
“Listen, Red, whatever you think Buffy has done, you’re wrong,” Spike said sharply and moving with frightening speed, took the baseball bat from the witch’s hand.
She didn’t try to stop him, just stood looking at the two of them with what Buffy thought could almost be called hatred in her eyes.
‘Willow, I truly don’t understand,” she said. “Explain it to us. What the heck happened here? No electricity and all those weird, sick people wandering around.”
The red-head shrugged. “I suppose you’d better hear it all. I can’t believe you don’t know already, but I’ll play along with your little game if it makes you feel better.”
Buffy and Spike exchanged looks and followed her into the kitchen. A couple of candles were flickering on the table, and Buffy saw that the refrigerator door was ajar, the shelves empty. She shivered; the air seemed chill and damp, as if the windows were open to the cold night air. But she could see they were tightly shut with the blinds down fast.
“Sorry I can‘t offer you a cup of coffee or even a mug of warm blood,” Willow said. “But, hey, no electricity.” She smiled with a bright, false grin that made Buffy shudder.
“Willow, stop - just stop!” Buffy sat at the table, aware of Spike leaning against the wall behind her, automatically guarding her back. But who from? Her best friend? She felt she’d strayed into a nightmare.
“Start at the beginning. We - left. I thought I was needed more back in the other Sunnydale.”
“And were you?”
Buffy’s mind raced back over all that had happened - her mother dying, Dawn, Glory, being in heaven, and the other Willow bringing her back to life again.
“The Slayer saved the world,” Spike put in from the shadows.
“But not ours!” Another voice came from the living-room doorway. Buffy spun round. Xan and Tara were standing there, looking thin and weary. And the sight of a skinny Xander was more alarming than anything Buffy had seen that night.
His dark eyes looked like black holes in a paper white face. “Hello, Buffy. Spike. Back to do your Slayer to the rescue routine, are you? It’s a bit too late for lots of people. Too late for Oz.”
“What! Willow - no, oh, please don’t say - ”
“He was killed last year,” Will said softly, almost to herself.
“A vampire?” Spike’s voice was harsh. He’d liked Oz in this world.
Willow laughed and Buffy winced at the sound. Glass being dragged across her throat couldn’t have caused a worse noise. “Oh, Spike, if we only had vampires to worry about, we’d be rolling in puppies and kittens.”
Tara moved into the room and sat down opposite Buffy. “For a while after you and Spike - went - things were fine. Life just carried on. You mother moved away to live with her sister. There were a few vampires and demons around, but some of us patrolled in the evenings and kept them a bit in check. Then - we realised something - someone - had arrived in town and was causing mayhem.”
With a sinking heart, Buffy stared at the other girl, the shadows from the candle flickering across her face. “I’m guessing it was a woman - a beautiful woman called Glory?”
Tara frowned. “No, it was a young man. Very good-looking guy. His name’s Ben. But he isn’t a man.”
Xan pulled out a chair and flung himself into it. “We don’t know what he is. Oz thought he was a vampire, but he can’t be killed. He’s too strong, physically and mentally. Even Willow’s magic doesn’t touch him.”
“What did he do?” Spike asked quietly.
“It was slow at first. People - changed. They fell sick. Stayed away from work or left town. Businesses closed down. Public transport stopped. But even then, we didn’t really connect Ben with what was happening.”
“And you weren’t here to help!” Xan put in.
“Ok, Sweetie. Let me tell,” Tara said reaching out to take his hand. “Then we realised that no one and nothing was coming into Sunnydale. No food, no gas, the shops began to empty. There were riots for bottled water when the taps began to dry up, but the police vanished, one by one. Then a couple of weeks ago, the power went down.”
“But Oz - ?”
Will spoke again. “Oz was sure Ben was a vamp or a demon. Nothing else made sense to him. I told him he wasn’t, that I was going to try every spell I knew to overcome him, even if it killed me. He got angry - said it was his job to protect me, not mine to keep him safe. Then he told us he had a plan to kill Ben. But he wouldn’t say what it was. Even so, we never thought he’d try to tackle him on his own, but - he did.” Her voice broke and Buffy’s heart lurched at the pain she heard.
“So, you see, Oz is dead, Buffy. And who should I blame? Ben? Whatever he is, he’s just doing what he’s born to do. But you aren’t. You’re the Slayer and you left us! You left us alone!”
She stepped forward, arm raised and in a flash, Spike was there at Buffy’s side, fangs glinting as he vamped into game face.
Buffy stood up and touched his shoulder. “Wait, Spike.”
Glaring yellow eyes turned to gaze down at her. “You died, Buffy! You died to save the world. You were needed. You chose, our world was saved and Glory died. It’s not your fault if she arrived here as well.”
“Spike - it’s Willow. She’s lost Oz. How would you feel if it was me?”
Spike’s face shimmered and reverted to human shape. “I know how I’d feel, Buffy. But I’m wondering, how would you if it was me?”
Buffy’s fingers bit deep into his arm. His words cut right through her, to a well of emotion she refused to look into. Deep, vivid, swirling emotion that would one day consume her if she let it. Then she would no longer be in control, she would be floating, free, lost in love and that was terrifying.
“Will, listen. I’m not going to apologise. But believe me, I do know a little of what you feel. I lost my Mom in my other world. I’m just so pleased she’s still alive in this one. And I fought Ben in my world and - and I died doing it.”
“But you’re alive now,” Xan said.
“Yes, I am,” Buffy said simply .
Will had sunk into a chair and buried her head in her arms. “I miss Oz so much,” she whispered. “I just want the pain to go away.”
“It will,” Buffy said. “Not today, not even tomorrow, but it will get better, Will, I promise.”
“So what is Ben if he isn’t a vampire or a demon?” asked Tara.
“He’s a god,” Spike said. “In the other world, he arrived as a sodding skanky blonde calling herself Glory. She was from another evil demon dimension and was searching for a Key, a form of energy to get back to it. Has this guy been looking for something - someone?”
Xan wearily shook his head. “Not that I know of. He’s holed up in the High School with a pack of creatures. Whatever he’s doing in there, your guess is as good as mine. Anyone who goes anywhere near the place falls sick. Then they die. It isn’t pretty.”
He stood up. “I’m going to bed. Me and Tara have been staying here with Will since - well, since Oz went. She shouldn’t be on her own. Come on, sweetheart. Bed. We can all talk again in the morning.”
Tara smiled sweetly, murmured her goodnights and they left the room, arms round each other’s waist. Buffy watched them go, her face tense and strained. She turned to speak to Will, to find Spike standing behind the witch, his finger to his lips.
The red-head was obviously fast asleep, head still pillowed on her arms. With a strange tenderness, Spike lifted her effortlessly into his arms and disappeared upstairs. A minute or two later he was back. “She’s out flat - exhausted, I reckon,” he said. ‘Bloody hell, Slayer, what a hell of a mess.”
One of the candles guttered and went out. Buffy flung herself down on the sofa and held out her arms. Spike extinguished the other flame and joined her, easing her into his embrace, pillowing her head on his shoulder.
He held her in silence for a long while, wondering about the tension that he could feel in her slim body. The darkness settled round them like a cloak but with his night vision he could pick out the shape of the windows, see the gold of her hair against his black T-shirt.
“What’s the matter, pet?” he asked at last. “Are you upset about Oz?”
“Yes, of course, but it isn’t that. And anyway, how do you know I’m upset about anything?”
Spike chuckled and she could hear the sound echoing through his chest. “Know you too well, Buffy, in both worlds. You have a certain muscle in the back of your neck that goes as hard as iron when you’re worried or upset or angry. And as I reckon I haven’t done too much to piss you off recently, then I guess you’re upset.”
Buffy grumbled wordlessly, rubbing her cheek against the taut black cotton, wishing she could slip her hands under it to feel his cool skin. He knew her too well. In one way it made her feel safe, secure, loved. In another the very intimacy of his knowledge was scary. She knew he loved her, too much, probably, and not too wisely.
And with Spike it was always of the moment. He never looked ahead. The moment was all that counted, never tomorrow. She supposed that when you had lived as long as he had, tomorrow was not worth bothering about.
Which was why she knew he hadn’t realised what was blindingly obvious to her about the whole set up here in SunnydaleT.
‘Spike,” she said, half sitting up.
“Slayer?” He pulled her further up his body so his mouth was close to hers.
‘Don’t you see,” she said, suddenly desperate for his support. “There was only one way to defeat Glory - ”
She felt his body freeze into stillness beneath her as he worked out at last what she’d accepted at the first mention of Ben. “Buffy - ”
“We have to face facts, Spike. I may have to die all over again!”
to be continued
Chapter 3 All Over Again
“Listen, Red, whatever you think Buffy has done, you’re wrong,” Spike said sharply and moving with frightening speed, took the baseball bat from the witch’s hand.
She didn’t try to stop him, just stood looking at the two of them with what Buffy thought could almost be called hatred in her eyes.
‘Willow, I truly don’t understand,” she said. “Explain it to us. What the heck happened here? No electricity and all those weird, sick people wandering around.”
The red-head shrugged. “I suppose you’d better hear it all. I can’t believe you don’t know already, but I’ll play along with your little game if it makes you feel better.”
Buffy and Spike exchanged looks and followed her into the kitchen. A couple of candles were flickering on the table, and Buffy saw that the refrigerator door was ajar, the shelves empty. She shivered; the air seemed chill and damp, as if the windows were open to the cold night air. But she could see they were tightly shut with the blinds down fast.
“Sorry I can‘t offer you a cup of coffee or even a mug of warm blood,” Willow said. “But, hey, no electricity.” She smiled with a bright, false grin that made Buffy shudder.
“Willow, stop - just stop!” Buffy sat at the table, aware of Spike leaning against the wall behind her, automatically guarding her back. But who from? Her best friend? She felt she’d strayed into a nightmare.
“Start at the beginning. We - left. I thought I was needed more back in the other Sunnydale.”
“And were you?”
Buffy’s mind raced back over all that had happened - her mother dying, Dawn, Glory, being in heaven, and the other Willow bringing her back to life again.
“The Slayer saved the world,” Spike put in from the shadows.
“But not ours!” Another voice came from the living-room doorway. Buffy spun round. Xan and Tara were standing there, looking thin and weary. And the sight of a skinny Xander was more alarming than anything Buffy had seen that night.
His dark eyes looked like black holes in a paper white face. “Hello, Buffy. Spike. Back to do your Slayer to the rescue routine, are you? It’s a bit too late for lots of people. Too late for Oz.”
“What! Willow - no, oh, please don’t say - ”
“He was killed last year,” Will said softly, almost to herself.
“A vampire?” Spike’s voice was harsh. He’d liked Oz in this world.
Willow laughed and Buffy winced at the sound. Glass being dragged across her throat couldn’t have caused a worse noise. “Oh, Spike, if we only had vampires to worry about, we’d be rolling in puppies and kittens.”
Tara moved into the room and sat down opposite Buffy. “For a while after you and Spike - went - things were fine. Life just carried on. You mother moved away to live with her sister. There were a few vampires and demons around, but some of us patrolled in the evenings and kept them a bit in check. Then - we realised something - someone - had arrived in town and was causing mayhem.”
With a sinking heart, Buffy stared at the other girl, the shadows from the candle flickering across her face. “I’m guessing it was a woman - a beautiful woman called Glory?”
Tara frowned. “No, it was a young man. Very good-looking guy. His name’s Ben. But he isn’t a man.”
Xan pulled out a chair and flung himself into it. “We don’t know what he is. Oz thought he was a vampire, but he can’t be killed. He’s too strong, physically and mentally. Even Willow’s magic doesn’t touch him.”
“What did he do?” Spike asked quietly.
“It was slow at first. People - changed. They fell sick. Stayed away from work or left town. Businesses closed down. Public transport stopped. But even then, we didn’t really connect Ben with what was happening.”
“And you weren’t here to help!” Xan put in.
“Ok, Sweetie. Let me tell,” Tara said reaching out to take his hand. “Then we realised that no one and nothing was coming into Sunnydale. No food, no gas, the shops began to empty. There were riots for bottled water when the taps began to dry up, but the police vanished, one by one. Then a couple of weeks ago, the power went down.”
“But Oz - ?”
Will spoke again. “Oz was sure Ben was a vamp or a demon. Nothing else made sense to him. I told him he wasn’t, that I was going to try every spell I knew to overcome him, even if it killed me. He got angry - said it was his job to protect me, not mine to keep him safe. Then he told us he had a plan to kill Ben. But he wouldn’t say what it was. Even so, we never thought he’d try to tackle him on his own, but - he did.” Her voice broke and Buffy’s heart lurched at the pain she heard.
“So, you see, Oz is dead, Buffy. And who should I blame? Ben? Whatever he is, he’s just doing what he’s born to do. But you aren’t. You’re the Slayer and you left us! You left us alone!”
She stepped forward, arm raised and in a flash, Spike was there at Buffy’s side, fangs glinting as he vamped into game face.
Buffy stood up and touched his shoulder. “Wait, Spike.”
Glaring yellow eyes turned to gaze down at her. “You died, Buffy! You died to save the world. You were needed. You chose, our world was saved and Glory died. It’s not your fault if she arrived here as well.”
“Spike - it’s Willow. She’s lost Oz. How would you feel if it was me?”
Spike’s face shimmered and reverted to human shape. “I know how I’d feel, Buffy. But I’m wondering, how would you if it was me?”
Buffy’s fingers bit deep into his arm. His words cut right through her, to a well of emotion she refused to look into. Deep, vivid, swirling emotion that would one day consume her if she let it. Then she would no longer be in control, she would be floating, free, lost in love and that was terrifying.
“Will, listen. I’m not going to apologise. But believe me, I do know a little of what you feel. I lost my Mom in my other world. I’m just so pleased she’s still alive in this one. And I fought Ben in my world and - and I died doing it.”
“But you’re alive now,” Xan said.
“Yes, I am,” Buffy said simply .
Will had sunk into a chair and buried her head in her arms. “I miss Oz so much,” she whispered. “I just want the pain to go away.”
“It will,” Buffy said. “Not today, not even tomorrow, but it will get better, Will, I promise.”
“So what is Ben if he isn’t a vampire or a demon?” asked Tara.
“He’s a god,” Spike said. “In the other world, he arrived as a sodding skanky blonde calling herself Glory. She was from another evil demon dimension and was searching for a Key, a form of energy to get back to it. Has this guy been looking for something - someone?”
Xan wearily shook his head. “Not that I know of. He’s holed up in the High School with a pack of creatures. Whatever he’s doing in there, your guess is as good as mine. Anyone who goes anywhere near the place falls sick. Then they die. It isn’t pretty.”
He stood up. “I’m going to bed. Me and Tara have been staying here with Will since - well, since Oz went. She shouldn’t be on her own. Come on, sweetheart. Bed. We can all talk again in the morning.”
Tara smiled sweetly, murmured her goodnights and they left the room, arms round each other’s waist. Buffy watched them go, her face tense and strained. She turned to speak to Will, to find Spike standing behind the witch, his finger to his lips.
The red-head was obviously fast asleep, head still pillowed on her arms. With a strange tenderness, Spike lifted her effortlessly into his arms and disappeared upstairs. A minute or two later he was back. “She’s out flat - exhausted, I reckon,” he said. ‘Bloody hell, Slayer, what a hell of a mess.”
One of the candles guttered and went out. Buffy flung herself down on the sofa and held out her arms. Spike extinguished the other flame and joined her, easing her into his embrace, pillowing her head on his shoulder.
He held her in silence for a long while, wondering about the tension that he could feel in her slim body. The darkness settled round them like a cloak but with his night vision he could pick out the shape of the windows, see the gold of her hair against his black T-shirt.
“What’s the matter, pet?” he asked at last. “Are you upset about Oz?”
“Yes, of course, but it isn’t that. And anyway, how do you know I’m upset about anything?”
Spike chuckled and she could hear the sound echoing through his chest. “Know you too well, Buffy, in both worlds. You have a certain muscle in the back of your neck that goes as hard as iron when you’re worried or upset or angry. And as I reckon I haven’t done too much to piss you off recently, then I guess you’re upset.”
Buffy grumbled wordlessly, rubbing her cheek against the taut black cotton, wishing she could slip her hands under it to feel his cool skin. He knew her too well. In one way it made her feel safe, secure, loved. In another the very intimacy of his knowledge was scary. She knew he loved her, too much, probably, and not too wisely.
And with Spike it was always of the moment. He never looked ahead. The moment was all that counted, never tomorrow. She supposed that when you had lived as long as he had, tomorrow was not worth bothering about.
Which was why she knew he hadn’t realised what was blindingly obvious to her about the whole set up here in SunnydaleT.
‘Spike,” she said, half sitting up.
“Slayer?” He pulled her further up his body so his mouth was close to hers.
‘Don’t you see,” she said, suddenly desperate for his support. “There was only one way to defeat Glory - ”
She felt his body freeze into stillness beneath her as he worked out at last what she’d accepted at the first mention of Ben. “Buffy - ”
“We have to face facts, Spike. I may have to die all over again!”
to be continued
Chp 4 “I’ll tear it Downâ€
Something to Sing About by Lilachigh
Chapter 4 “I’ll tear it down!”
In the darkness, Buffy felt rather than saw Spike vamp into game face. Every muscle in his body tightened, ready for action, to kill, maim, destroy.
“No!” he hissed. “Forget it. You’ll not sacrifice yourself again for another world. I won’t let you, Slayer.”
‘Ssh. Ssh! You’ll wake Willow and the others,” Buffy said, reaching up to stroke his bumpy face, feeling it soften and return to human under her exploring fingertips. “That’s just the problem, Spike. I am still the Slayer. Here, there, wherever I go. I’ll never be anyone else. You know that.”
He pulled her so tight that his arms seemed to crush her. Even with Slayer strength she thought she could hear her ribs creak in protest. But she kept silent. She could feel his anguish and was beginning, she realised, to know exactly how much he loved her.
Long minutes passed, then his grip eased and she wriggled free. “Look, Spike, I’m not going looking for death!” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “Far from it. Been there, had the coffin, all pretty white satin and hey, here I am again! Can’t keep bobbing backwards and forwards into the after life. I’ll get dizzy.”
“OK, just remember that I’m going to be watching your back the whole time, Slayer and this time you’re my wife, don’t forget. So if I see you near any poxy tower, I’ll tear it down before I let you climb it!” She could feel tremors running through his body. “I couldn’t bear it again, Buffy.You’ve no idea what it was like. If I lost you again, then I’d dust myself as well.”
Buffy shivered in the dark at the passion in his voice. She was remembering clearly now so much of her time in this universe. Marrying Spike, finding Xan, watching Angel die. In the other Sunnydale it had seemed like a dream, something that had happened to someone else. But now it was only too real.
She felt the walls she’d constructed so carefully against Spike falling away, brick by brick. Here she could be herself, show him exactly how she felt about him. Here, there was no one to be shocked or surprised at her love for the vampire and that realisation flowed over her like a raging tide.
Buffy lifted herself up, climbing over him to straddle his hips. Her mouth searched for his and took possession, demanding, cajoling, insisting on the response that flared beneath her lips.
She felt him reach up and pull her hair free from its ties. it cascaded down across his face, then they were slipping and sliding off the sofa onto the floor in a welter of cushions and discarded clothes as they fought to feel skin against skin, warm against cold, steely hardness against silky softness.
And Willow, tossing and turning restlessly, unhappily, in her bed, was unaware of the tears of loss that trickled down her face as her body tuned in to the overpowering ripples of desire and love that surged throughout the house as Slayer and Vampire consummated a love they would never ever be able to deny.
Buffy woke the next morning to find herself still held tight in Spike’s arms, as if he’d been scared that while he slept she would somehow escape.
She wriggled free and pulled on her clothes, wrinkling her nose at the grimy state of yesterday’s jeans and T-shirt. She pushed her panties into a pocket. They hadn’t survived Spike’s onslaught from the night before.
She sighed and wished she’d bought shares in some underwear company. She got through more thongs and panties than anyone else she knew.
“Good job we’re not together in the same world back home,” she grumbled to herself. “I’d never be able to explain to Dawn why I bought so many!”
She padded across the room and peered out round the edge of the tightly drawn curtains. But she needn’t have worried about bright sunlight. The street outside lay grey and sullen under a heavy grey sky. She pulled the curtain back and heard Spike stretching as he woke. “Buffy?” His voice was tight with sudden anxiety.
“Over here,” she said, resuming her inspection of Sunnydale. Reassured that nothing was moving outside, she turned and grinned at him raising her eyebrows at the naked vampire. “Far be it for me to sound like a wife and nag, Spike, but I think it might be a good idea if you put your jeans on! If Willow comes down and catches you like that - ”
A wolfish smile iced across the room at her. “Take it you had a good look while I was asleep, pet.”
Buffy tossed her head. “No big deal, mister. Seen it all before!”
The smile grew lazier and sexier and she felt her legs begin to tremble. “Well, if you don’t think this is a ‘big’ deal, come over here and I’ll show you in greater detail, Slayer!”
“Later!” she hissed as footsteps sounded on the stairs and Will appeared, wearing jeans and what had probably been one of Oz’s sweaters. She looked pale and washed out, her red hair scragged back from her face into a severe knot, her collar bones showing harshly through the pale skin where the sweater fell away from her thin body.
Buffy frowned. Her best friend looked ill, exhausted, as if she couldn’t have cared less if she lived or died.
‘Buffy. Spike. Hope you got some sleep. There’s water coming out of the taps this morning. It tastes OK. There’s still no power, so no hot water and no coffee, I’m afraid. I think there might be a carton of orange juice left, if Xander and Tara didn’t drink it yesterday.”
“Willow, come and sit down,” Buffy urged. “We’ve got to discuss what we’re going to do.”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it,” It was Xan speaking as he came into the room, shrugging into his shirt. “Now you’re back, you can do the Slayer thingy and kill this Ben guy. Then everything will go back to normal.”
Tara followed him into the room, her long honey-blonde hair braided around her head like a crown, a dark green skirt sweeping the floor. “Sweetie, I don’t see that it can be that simple. Buffy, how did you defeat the god person in the other Sunnydale?”
“Well, I - ”
“There was a bloody big battle,” broke in Spike, determined that his wife was not going to announce that her death had been the only way to get rid of Glory. “Loads of blood and bodies and death.”
“Yes, you said last night that you died and came back. But you got rid of her?” Xan insisted. “Otherwise you wouldn’t both be here, I suppose.”
Buffy’s mind raced back to that dreadful night on the tower. Dawn with blood dripping from her body, the heavens opening into Hell, knowing that by jumping she could stop it all - and, what was even more important - she could finally rest.
And now she was faced with the prospect of dealing with an unbeatable god all over again. ‘But you don’t have to,’ a little voice mocked in her brain. “The portal is there - open and waiting. All you have to do is tell Spike and jump through it. You’ll be home - your proper home, where you truly belong.’
She realised Xan was still waiting for her reply, his dark eyes shadowed in a face that was thin and pale, so unlike the Xander Harris she’d left behind only yesterday.
“It was - complicated,” she said slowly. “I don’t expect things to be exactly the same here as they were there.”
“Can you kill this Ben creature or not?” Xan snapped, and to Buffy’s astonishment, he crossed to a shelf on the far side of the room and poured himself a hefty shot of whisky.
“Sweetie, it’s very early - ” Tara started to say, but then stopped, shrugging wearily as if she’d given up trying to stop him a long time ago.
So Xan is still drinking, Buffy thought bitterly. Rescuing him from Angel didn’t bring him to his senses after all.
“Back off, Xander,” Spike said. “Buffy will do what’s right. You can rely on that.”
“What’s right for her or what’s right for us?”
“I’ll do what’s right for everyone in this Sunnydale, in this world,” Buffy said firmly, scooping up a piece of ribbon from the floor where she’d thrown in last night and tying her hair back in a pony-tail.
Xan looked as if he was going to argue some more, but took a long swallow of Scotch and flung himself down on the sofa next to Will who was just sitting, gazing into space.
“Willow, did your magic have no effect on Ben at all?” Buffy asked, hoping to nudge her friend out of her depression.
“What?” The red-headed witch looked up, her eyes dark and dull. “Oh, well, some, Buffy. I’ve been trying really hard to control the water coming into Sunnydale. I think that’s probably why we’ve got some this morning. I magic the reservoir gates open and Ben magics them shut again. At the moment, I’m winning so we can all drink. But then I get tired and he turns the water off again until I built up my reserves. But I can’t do the water and the power at the same time. That’s beyond me.”
“But it’s interesting that you can make some difference. He isn’t all powerful, then, is he?“
“No, but Buffy, he’s getting stronger every day. Soon Sunnydale will be a ghost town. We can’t stay here much longer,” Tara said softly. “We would have left ages ago, but Willow felt Oz would have died for nothing if she gave in to Ben and ran away.”
“We need more information, pet,” Spike said, pulling on his leather duster. “How many of those sodding ugly minions he has? And if he’s searching for a Key in this dimension, too.”
“And if he is, who is it?” Buffy agreed quietly. For that was one of the odd things about this universe. There was no Dawn and it was as if part of her was missing, even though her sister had never existed here.
They moved away from the others and Buffy lowered her voice even more so they couldn’t hear. “Right. First things first. Where are we going to get the low down on this Ben and his gang? Who in the whole of Sunnydale will know what’s going on?”
She stared up into the brilliant blue eyes she loved so much and wondered fleetingly why she could think that in this world and not admit it in the other.
Then, simultaneously, they said, “Willie!”
to be continued
Chapter 4 “I’ll tear it down!”
In the darkness, Buffy felt rather than saw Spike vamp into game face. Every muscle in his body tightened, ready for action, to kill, maim, destroy.
“No!” he hissed. “Forget it. You’ll not sacrifice yourself again for another world. I won’t let you, Slayer.”
‘Ssh. Ssh! You’ll wake Willow and the others,” Buffy said, reaching up to stroke his bumpy face, feeling it soften and return to human under her exploring fingertips. “That’s just the problem, Spike. I am still the Slayer. Here, there, wherever I go. I’ll never be anyone else. You know that.”
He pulled her so tight that his arms seemed to crush her. Even with Slayer strength she thought she could hear her ribs creak in protest. But she kept silent. She could feel his anguish and was beginning, she realised, to know exactly how much he loved her.
Long minutes passed, then his grip eased and she wriggled free. “Look, Spike, I’m not going looking for death!” she said, trying to sound cheerful. “Far from it. Been there, had the coffin, all pretty white satin and hey, here I am again! Can’t keep bobbing backwards and forwards into the after life. I’ll get dizzy.”
“OK, just remember that I’m going to be watching your back the whole time, Slayer and this time you’re my wife, don’t forget. So if I see you near any poxy tower, I’ll tear it down before I let you climb it!” She could feel tremors running through his body. “I couldn’t bear it again, Buffy.You’ve no idea what it was like. If I lost you again, then I’d dust myself as well.”
Buffy shivered in the dark at the passion in his voice. She was remembering clearly now so much of her time in this universe. Marrying Spike, finding Xan, watching Angel die. In the other Sunnydale it had seemed like a dream, something that had happened to someone else. But now it was only too real.
She felt the walls she’d constructed so carefully against Spike falling away, brick by brick. Here she could be herself, show him exactly how she felt about him. Here, there was no one to be shocked or surprised at her love for the vampire and that realisation flowed over her like a raging tide.
Buffy lifted herself up, climbing over him to straddle his hips. Her mouth searched for his and took possession, demanding, cajoling, insisting on the response that flared beneath her lips.
She felt him reach up and pull her hair free from its ties. it cascaded down across his face, then they were slipping and sliding off the sofa onto the floor in a welter of cushions and discarded clothes as they fought to feel skin against skin, warm against cold, steely hardness against silky softness.
And Willow, tossing and turning restlessly, unhappily, in her bed, was unaware of the tears of loss that trickled down her face as her body tuned in to the overpowering ripples of desire and love that surged throughout the house as Slayer and Vampire consummated a love they would never ever be able to deny.
Buffy woke the next morning to find herself still held tight in Spike’s arms, as if he’d been scared that while he slept she would somehow escape.
She wriggled free and pulled on her clothes, wrinkling her nose at the grimy state of yesterday’s jeans and T-shirt. She pushed her panties into a pocket. They hadn’t survived Spike’s onslaught from the night before.
She sighed and wished she’d bought shares in some underwear company. She got through more thongs and panties than anyone else she knew.
“Good job we’re not together in the same world back home,” she grumbled to herself. “I’d never be able to explain to Dawn why I bought so many!”
She padded across the room and peered out round the edge of the tightly drawn curtains. But she needn’t have worried about bright sunlight. The street outside lay grey and sullen under a heavy grey sky. She pulled the curtain back and heard Spike stretching as he woke. “Buffy?” His voice was tight with sudden anxiety.
“Over here,” she said, resuming her inspection of Sunnydale. Reassured that nothing was moving outside, she turned and grinned at him raising her eyebrows at the naked vampire. “Far be it for me to sound like a wife and nag, Spike, but I think it might be a good idea if you put your jeans on! If Willow comes down and catches you like that - ”
A wolfish smile iced across the room at her. “Take it you had a good look while I was asleep, pet.”
Buffy tossed her head. “No big deal, mister. Seen it all before!”
The smile grew lazier and sexier and she felt her legs begin to tremble. “Well, if you don’t think this is a ‘big’ deal, come over here and I’ll show you in greater detail, Slayer!”
“Later!” she hissed as footsteps sounded on the stairs and Will appeared, wearing jeans and what had probably been one of Oz’s sweaters. She looked pale and washed out, her red hair scragged back from her face into a severe knot, her collar bones showing harshly through the pale skin where the sweater fell away from her thin body.
Buffy frowned. Her best friend looked ill, exhausted, as if she couldn’t have cared less if she lived or died.
‘Buffy. Spike. Hope you got some sleep. There’s water coming out of the taps this morning. It tastes OK. There’s still no power, so no hot water and no coffee, I’m afraid. I think there might be a carton of orange juice left, if Xander and Tara didn’t drink it yesterday.”
“Willow, come and sit down,” Buffy urged. “We’ve got to discuss what we’re going to do.”
“It’s obvious, isn’t it,” It was Xan speaking as he came into the room, shrugging into his shirt. “Now you’re back, you can do the Slayer thingy and kill this Ben guy. Then everything will go back to normal.”
Tara followed him into the room, her long honey-blonde hair braided around her head like a crown, a dark green skirt sweeping the floor. “Sweetie, I don’t see that it can be that simple. Buffy, how did you defeat the god person in the other Sunnydale?”
“Well, I - ”
“There was a bloody big battle,” broke in Spike, determined that his wife was not going to announce that her death had been the only way to get rid of Glory. “Loads of blood and bodies and death.”
“Yes, you said last night that you died and came back. But you got rid of her?” Xan insisted. “Otherwise you wouldn’t both be here, I suppose.”
Buffy’s mind raced back to that dreadful night on the tower. Dawn with blood dripping from her body, the heavens opening into Hell, knowing that by jumping she could stop it all - and, what was even more important - she could finally rest.
And now she was faced with the prospect of dealing with an unbeatable god all over again. ‘But you don’t have to,’ a little voice mocked in her brain. “The portal is there - open and waiting. All you have to do is tell Spike and jump through it. You’ll be home - your proper home, where you truly belong.’
She realised Xan was still waiting for her reply, his dark eyes shadowed in a face that was thin and pale, so unlike the Xander Harris she’d left behind only yesterday.
“It was - complicated,” she said slowly. “I don’t expect things to be exactly the same here as they were there.”
“Can you kill this Ben creature or not?” Xan snapped, and to Buffy’s astonishment, he crossed to a shelf on the far side of the room and poured himself a hefty shot of whisky.
“Sweetie, it’s very early - ” Tara started to say, but then stopped, shrugging wearily as if she’d given up trying to stop him a long time ago.
So Xan is still drinking, Buffy thought bitterly. Rescuing him from Angel didn’t bring him to his senses after all.
“Back off, Xander,” Spike said. “Buffy will do what’s right. You can rely on that.”
“What’s right for her or what’s right for us?”
“I’ll do what’s right for everyone in this Sunnydale, in this world,” Buffy said firmly, scooping up a piece of ribbon from the floor where she’d thrown in last night and tying her hair back in a pony-tail.
Xan looked as if he was going to argue some more, but took a long swallow of Scotch and flung himself down on the sofa next to Will who was just sitting, gazing into space.
“Willow, did your magic have no effect on Ben at all?” Buffy asked, hoping to nudge her friend out of her depression.
“What?” The red-headed witch looked up, her eyes dark and dull. “Oh, well, some, Buffy. I’ve been trying really hard to control the water coming into Sunnydale. I think that’s probably why we’ve got some this morning. I magic the reservoir gates open and Ben magics them shut again. At the moment, I’m winning so we can all drink. But then I get tired and he turns the water off again until I built up my reserves. But I can’t do the water and the power at the same time. That’s beyond me.”
“But it’s interesting that you can make some difference. He isn’t all powerful, then, is he?“
“No, but Buffy, he’s getting stronger every day. Soon Sunnydale will be a ghost town. We can’t stay here much longer,” Tara said softly. “We would have left ages ago, but Willow felt Oz would have died for nothing if she gave in to Ben and ran away.”
“We need more information, pet,” Spike said, pulling on his leather duster. “How many of those sodding ugly minions he has? And if he’s searching for a Key in this dimension, too.”
“And if he is, who is it?” Buffy agreed quietly. For that was one of the odd things about this universe. There was no Dawn and it was as if part of her was missing, even though her sister had never existed here.
They moved away from the others and Buffy lowered her voice even more so they couldn’t hear. “Right. First things first. Where are we going to get the low down on this Ben and his gang? Who in the whole of Sunnydale will know what’s going on?”
She stared up into the brilliant blue eyes she loved so much and wondered fleetingly why she could think that in this world and not admit it in the other.
Then, simultaneously, they said, “Willie!”
to be continued
Chp 5 Taking Over
Something to Sing About by Lilachigh
Chapter 5 Taking Over
Hand in hand, Spike and Buffy strode along the dark, gloomy streets. Spike had glanced up at the sullen sky and reckoned he‘d be safe enough. It didn’t look as if the sun would ever shine in this world again.
“Which is fine for me, but not for the rest of Sunnydale, pet,” he’d said dryly.
Their boots rang in unison on the filthy sidewalk that had obviously not been swept for weeks. Rubbish and dirt littered their path. Leaves had fallen from the trees but not in beautiful heaps of gold and red but brown and wrinkled and dead. The black branches that remained held skeletal fingers against the iron grey sky.
They were the only people out . The streets were deserted - just the occasional glimmer of a candle in a window showed that a few humans were still trying to carry on living in town.
Buffy shuddered and Spike slipped his arm round her shoulders. “Cold, luv?”
“No, not exactly. Just spooked by the whole place. I can’t believe Ben - Glory - whatever the god fiend is calling itself here - has got to be sorted out all over again. But look at this place, Spike. Our Sunnydale never looked like this even when Glory was opening the Hellmouth. It seems - defeated!”
“I suppose they’ve had much longer to cope with the problem than we did. But this Ben doesn’t seem to be quite as strong as Glory, does he? If Willow can match him as she says at the magics for some of the time without it killing her, then we must have a good chance of destroying him.”
Buffy sighed. “Do you really believe that, Spike? Or are you just making nice with the ‘let’s cheer up the Slayer’ speech?”
The vampire’s arm tightened round her slim shoulders. “Just one of life’s little optimists, that’s me, pet.”
Buffy felt herself smile, almost against her will. He always had the ability to shake her out of any depression she fell into. “And anyway, bleach boy, how do you know the way to Willie’s Bar in this Sunnydale? Did you sneak off there sometimes for a beer when I wasn’t looking? ‘Fess up, husband mine. ”
“All in the pursuit of research, my sweet. I like to know what’s cooking in the demon world - whichever Sunnydale I’m in. And let’s face, it, if you want good gossip, Willie’s is the place to go.”
The wide streets of houses had given way now to narrower roads of shops and warehouses. Spike turned right abruptly and pulled Buffy with him down an alleyway that ran between two derelict buildings. At the far end was a small, wooden building. A candle glowed in the window and in the sullen light, Buffy could see the word “Willie’s” cut into a sign that hung crookedly above the door.
Buffy pulled herself out of Spike’s supporting embrace and marched inside. Eyes of all different colours flashed in her direction - orange, green, yellow, red. There was a furtive scurrying from one or two tables as a couple of vampires made themselves scarce out of the back door.
But most of the customers stayed where they were, gazing sullenly at the Slayer and her mate. Buffy could feel the hatred rise up against her, almost see it pulsating towards them.
Behind the bar, a familiar face and voice. “Buffy! Spike! Well, long time no see. You back in town to stay? Or are you just passing through? Not to stick my nose in where it’s not wanted, of course, but my advice would be to keep on going. Sunnydale’s not much fun at the moment.”
Without breaking stride, Buffy reached forward and grabbing Willie by the front of his shirt, pulled him halfway back across the bar. Glasses and bottles were flying, smashing and crashing in all directions.
A couple of demons leapt to their paws, growling angrily.
‘“Sorry, folks. Didn’t mean to spoil your drinking time,” Spike drawled, leaning against the bar and rescuing a bottle of beer as it slid down the wooden surface towards him. He flipped off the top and drank deeply, his gaze knifing round the room, his deceptive attitude causing the angry stirrings to fade away.
Something flabby with tentacles lurched towards him. With a swift flash of his arm, Spike smashed the bottle against the bar and thrust the jagged end into the demon’s face. It shrieked and cowered back, muttering thickly, dabbing its tentacles at the foul smelling ooze that dripped to the floor.
“Waste of beer,” Spike sighed. “OK, I know you Yanks don’t make good beer, but even that bottled piss water was better than nothing. Now I’ve got nothing and that makes me very, very irritated.”
Buffy shook Willie gently until his teeth rattled. “Do you hear that, Willie. Spike’s getting irritated. If you don’t cooperate, I might just let him take over the questioning.”
“Now, Slayer, why would you do that? Have I ever not - ever not - ” he gurgled as Buffy’s grip tightened, “cooperated with you. Always helped. Right? Tell Spike - ”
“I’m telling you, Willie,” Buffy snapped. She dropped him back on his side of the bar. “Right, now, this Ben guy. This god thingy. Where does he hang out and what’s he up to? Speak now, Willie, or start loosing the parts of your body you’re most fond of!”
“OK, OK. ” Willie rubbed his throat and glancing round at the staring demons.
Spike clicked his lighter on and off and glared at the bar-keeper over the little flame. “We’re waiting!”
“Ben isn’t a demon or a vampire - he’s - ”
“A god. Yes, yahda yahda yahda, we know that,”’ Buffy said impatiently.
“He’s living in the big hotel down town, close to the airport. He’s got a whole gang of minders around him at all times and I’ve heard there’s some sort of magic barrier round the hotel as well.”
“But what exactly does he want in Sunnydale?” Buffy asked. “I mean, he’s been here for some time now, hasn’t he. And apart from killing people and making everyone else’s lives unbearable, what has he done? Is he - ” she stopped, memories flooding her mind - Glory desperate to find the Key to send her home, Dawn’s face when she learnt she wasn’t really Buffy’s sister, her mother’s plea for Buffy to look after her - always. Giving her life to save the world. Spike’s face when she returned.
Willie shook his head, his ingratiating smile vanishing. “No one knows, Slayer. At first there were rumours - you know how they spread amongst demons - ” he nodded towards Spike - “Ben was going to take over the town, then the country, then the world.”
“But he hasn’t yet,” Spike put in slowly.
“No. We’re all waiting to find out. People are falling sick and each day, more demons and vamps are arriving every hour and still Ben just sits up there in the hotel.”
“And that’s all you know?” Buffy said wearily. This was no help at all. She and Spike had learnt the same things about Glory in their own world.
Willie rubbed his hand across his mouth and glanced round warily, but most of his customers had gone back to their drinks now they’d realised the Slayer wasn’t in a killing mood.
He leant back across the bar and spoke in a whisper, so low that Buffy could only just hear him. “There was a demon girl in here last week - scared witless. She’d been working in the hotel but wanted to get out of town. Said she’d seen and done a lot of bad things in her time but this was...well, she said Ben was waiting for the baby.”
Buffy felt a cold chill run through her body. “What baby?”
“Ssshh. Not so loud, Slayer. Walls have ears - and in this bar that’s not just a saying, believe me. I don’t know what baby. Just that he’s waiting for the baby. Maybe it’s some demon prince or something, or has magical powers. We don’t know. But a word of warning, this Ben is like no other demon I’ve ever seen. You’re not going to see him off with a stake or a bottle of holy water!“
“What happened to the girl?” Spike asked.
Willie glanced round again, scared to be overheard, then drew a finger sharply across his throat.
Buffy and Spike left the bar and stood outside in the chill air. She breathed in deeply. Even the smell of rotting rubbish in the gutters was better than the stink inside Willie’s.
“So sweetheart, do you reckon this baby is the Key in this world? A sort of baby Dawn?”
Buffy stared into his eyes, knowing that the anxiety she felt was mirrored there. “If the Key was already here, then Ben would have made a move for it. He’d have opened up the devil dimension and this Sunnydale would have ceased to exist. So perhaps this time the monks have got their timing wrong and they’ve sent the Key in the form of a baby. A baby which hasn’t been born yet.”
Spike shrugged. “Makes sense, I suppose. They sent the Key to you as Dawn, but don’t forget, you weren’t here when all this went down. You were back kicking Glory’s butt in our Sunnydale - and then being dead. So they couldn’t send the Key to the Slayer. Otherwise, the same rules would have applied. Ben would have grabbed the kid, blooded it and - wham - no more Sunnydale.”
Buffy linked her arm through his as they walked back along the deserted streets towards Willow’s house. “Spike this is gross. Making the energy into a teenager was bad enough, but an innocent baby! Ben wants to take the blood from an infant. And surely most girls who were pregnant would have been the first to have gotten out of town when things began to go bad?”
Spike kicked a stone and sent it rattling against a mail-box. “Well, apparently Ben’s still waiting, so either the baby’s mother is here or someone’s coming to town carrying it.”
“Oh great. That’s going to be a fun meeting for us. I can just hear the conversation, can’t you? ‘Hi, welcome to Sunnydale. I’m Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Congratulations - you think you’re pregnant with a normal baby, but hey, really you’re carrying abnormal energy that’s been given you by some stinky old monks and will turn into a Key to an alternate devil universe. There’s a god guy wanting to tear your child apart when it’s born to get its blood. But apart from that, how did you enjoy the play, Mrs Lincoln? And Spike, my dying won’t help this time. I won’t be related to the baby. How can we ask a mother to give up her child to save the world?”
He didn’t reply and she was just about to go on when he stopped and held up his hand. Then in a flash he pulled her into the shadow of a clump of dead bushes by the side of the road as a gang of the zombie like creatures they’d seen when they first arrived came shambling round the corner.Hair matted, their eyes vacant, clothes filthy, but the weapons they carried were obviously sharp and deadly.
Buffy shuddered. These were humans; people she vaguely recognised as neighbours, the lady from the dry-cleaning shop, the guy from the garage, the boy who delivered the newspapers. All had the same angry, confused, insane air about them.
Spike tightened his grip and muttered in her ear. “Stay still, Slayer, unless you want to start staking humans. They’re out hunting.”
Slowly the gang passed by but Buffy still stood there, her head buried against Spike’s chest. She didn’t want to look at him, because suddenly she was confused.
She’d realised that this was her life; she’d been standing, hiding from a pack of maniacs, cold and hungry, sharp thorny twigs digging in her hair. She’d been standing with her arms wound tightly round the waist of a man she loved to the very depths of her soul, wondering how to defeat a Hell God, when she’d realised what she was feeling.
Despite all the trouble and death surrounding her, just knowing that she and Spike were together made her feel ecstatically, overwhelmingly, joyfully happy.
to be continued
Chapter 5 Taking Over
Hand in hand, Spike and Buffy strode along the dark, gloomy streets. Spike had glanced up at the sullen sky and reckoned he‘d be safe enough. It didn’t look as if the sun would ever shine in this world again.
“Which is fine for me, but not for the rest of Sunnydale, pet,” he’d said dryly.
Their boots rang in unison on the filthy sidewalk that had obviously not been swept for weeks. Rubbish and dirt littered their path. Leaves had fallen from the trees but not in beautiful heaps of gold and red but brown and wrinkled and dead. The black branches that remained held skeletal fingers against the iron grey sky.
They were the only people out . The streets were deserted - just the occasional glimmer of a candle in a window showed that a few humans were still trying to carry on living in town.
Buffy shuddered and Spike slipped his arm round her shoulders. “Cold, luv?”
“No, not exactly. Just spooked by the whole place. I can’t believe Ben - Glory - whatever the god fiend is calling itself here - has got to be sorted out all over again. But look at this place, Spike. Our Sunnydale never looked like this even when Glory was opening the Hellmouth. It seems - defeated!”
“I suppose they’ve had much longer to cope with the problem than we did. But this Ben doesn’t seem to be quite as strong as Glory, does he? If Willow can match him as she says at the magics for some of the time without it killing her, then we must have a good chance of destroying him.”
Buffy sighed. “Do you really believe that, Spike? Or are you just making nice with the ‘let’s cheer up the Slayer’ speech?”
The vampire’s arm tightened round her slim shoulders. “Just one of life’s little optimists, that’s me, pet.”
Buffy felt herself smile, almost against her will. He always had the ability to shake her out of any depression she fell into. “And anyway, bleach boy, how do you know the way to Willie’s Bar in this Sunnydale? Did you sneak off there sometimes for a beer when I wasn’t looking? ‘Fess up, husband mine. ”
“All in the pursuit of research, my sweet. I like to know what’s cooking in the demon world - whichever Sunnydale I’m in. And let’s face, it, if you want good gossip, Willie’s is the place to go.”
The wide streets of houses had given way now to narrower roads of shops and warehouses. Spike turned right abruptly and pulled Buffy with him down an alleyway that ran between two derelict buildings. At the far end was a small, wooden building. A candle glowed in the window and in the sullen light, Buffy could see the word “Willie’s” cut into a sign that hung crookedly above the door.
Buffy pulled herself out of Spike’s supporting embrace and marched inside. Eyes of all different colours flashed in her direction - orange, green, yellow, red. There was a furtive scurrying from one or two tables as a couple of vampires made themselves scarce out of the back door.
But most of the customers stayed where they were, gazing sullenly at the Slayer and her mate. Buffy could feel the hatred rise up against her, almost see it pulsating towards them.
Behind the bar, a familiar face and voice. “Buffy! Spike! Well, long time no see. You back in town to stay? Or are you just passing through? Not to stick my nose in where it’s not wanted, of course, but my advice would be to keep on going. Sunnydale’s not much fun at the moment.”
Without breaking stride, Buffy reached forward and grabbing Willie by the front of his shirt, pulled him halfway back across the bar. Glasses and bottles were flying, smashing and crashing in all directions.
A couple of demons leapt to their paws, growling angrily.
‘“Sorry, folks. Didn’t mean to spoil your drinking time,” Spike drawled, leaning against the bar and rescuing a bottle of beer as it slid down the wooden surface towards him. He flipped off the top and drank deeply, his gaze knifing round the room, his deceptive attitude causing the angry stirrings to fade away.
Something flabby with tentacles lurched towards him. With a swift flash of his arm, Spike smashed the bottle against the bar and thrust the jagged end into the demon’s face. It shrieked and cowered back, muttering thickly, dabbing its tentacles at the foul smelling ooze that dripped to the floor.
“Waste of beer,” Spike sighed. “OK, I know you Yanks don’t make good beer, but even that bottled piss water was better than nothing. Now I’ve got nothing and that makes me very, very irritated.”
Buffy shook Willie gently until his teeth rattled. “Do you hear that, Willie. Spike’s getting irritated. If you don’t cooperate, I might just let him take over the questioning.”
“Now, Slayer, why would you do that? Have I ever not - ever not - ” he gurgled as Buffy’s grip tightened, “cooperated with you. Always helped. Right? Tell Spike - ”
“I’m telling you, Willie,” Buffy snapped. She dropped him back on his side of the bar. “Right, now, this Ben guy. This god thingy. Where does he hang out and what’s he up to? Speak now, Willie, or start loosing the parts of your body you’re most fond of!”
“OK, OK. ” Willie rubbed his throat and glancing round at the staring demons.
Spike clicked his lighter on and off and glared at the bar-keeper over the little flame. “We’re waiting!”
“Ben isn’t a demon or a vampire - he’s - ”
“A god. Yes, yahda yahda yahda, we know that,”’ Buffy said impatiently.
“He’s living in the big hotel down town, close to the airport. He’s got a whole gang of minders around him at all times and I’ve heard there’s some sort of magic barrier round the hotel as well.”
“But what exactly does he want in Sunnydale?” Buffy asked. “I mean, he’s been here for some time now, hasn’t he. And apart from killing people and making everyone else’s lives unbearable, what has he done? Is he - ” she stopped, memories flooding her mind - Glory desperate to find the Key to send her home, Dawn’s face when she learnt she wasn’t really Buffy’s sister, her mother’s plea for Buffy to look after her - always. Giving her life to save the world. Spike’s face when she returned.
Willie shook his head, his ingratiating smile vanishing. “No one knows, Slayer. At first there were rumours - you know how they spread amongst demons - ” he nodded towards Spike - “Ben was going to take over the town, then the country, then the world.”
“But he hasn’t yet,” Spike put in slowly.
“No. We’re all waiting to find out. People are falling sick and each day, more demons and vamps are arriving every hour and still Ben just sits up there in the hotel.”
“And that’s all you know?” Buffy said wearily. This was no help at all. She and Spike had learnt the same things about Glory in their own world.
Willie rubbed his hand across his mouth and glanced round warily, but most of his customers had gone back to their drinks now they’d realised the Slayer wasn’t in a killing mood.
He leant back across the bar and spoke in a whisper, so low that Buffy could only just hear him. “There was a demon girl in here last week - scared witless. She’d been working in the hotel but wanted to get out of town. Said she’d seen and done a lot of bad things in her time but this was...well, she said Ben was waiting for the baby.”
Buffy felt a cold chill run through her body. “What baby?”
“Ssshh. Not so loud, Slayer. Walls have ears - and in this bar that’s not just a saying, believe me. I don’t know what baby. Just that he’s waiting for the baby. Maybe it’s some demon prince or something, or has magical powers. We don’t know. But a word of warning, this Ben is like no other demon I’ve ever seen. You’re not going to see him off with a stake or a bottle of holy water!“
“What happened to the girl?” Spike asked.
Willie glanced round again, scared to be overheard, then drew a finger sharply across his throat.
Buffy and Spike left the bar and stood outside in the chill air. She breathed in deeply. Even the smell of rotting rubbish in the gutters was better than the stink inside Willie’s.
“So sweetheart, do you reckon this baby is the Key in this world? A sort of baby Dawn?”
Buffy stared into his eyes, knowing that the anxiety she felt was mirrored there. “If the Key was already here, then Ben would have made a move for it. He’d have opened up the devil dimension and this Sunnydale would have ceased to exist. So perhaps this time the monks have got their timing wrong and they’ve sent the Key in the form of a baby. A baby which hasn’t been born yet.”
Spike shrugged. “Makes sense, I suppose. They sent the Key to you as Dawn, but don’t forget, you weren’t here when all this went down. You were back kicking Glory’s butt in our Sunnydale - and then being dead. So they couldn’t send the Key to the Slayer. Otherwise, the same rules would have applied. Ben would have grabbed the kid, blooded it and - wham - no more Sunnydale.”
Buffy linked her arm through his as they walked back along the deserted streets towards Willow’s house. “Spike this is gross. Making the energy into a teenager was bad enough, but an innocent baby! Ben wants to take the blood from an infant. And surely most girls who were pregnant would have been the first to have gotten out of town when things began to go bad?”
Spike kicked a stone and sent it rattling against a mail-box. “Well, apparently Ben’s still waiting, so either the baby’s mother is here or someone’s coming to town carrying it.”
“Oh great. That’s going to be a fun meeting for us. I can just hear the conversation, can’t you? ‘Hi, welcome to Sunnydale. I’m Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Congratulations - you think you’re pregnant with a normal baby, but hey, really you’re carrying abnormal energy that’s been given you by some stinky old monks and will turn into a Key to an alternate devil universe. There’s a god guy wanting to tear your child apart when it’s born to get its blood. But apart from that, how did you enjoy the play, Mrs Lincoln? And Spike, my dying won’t help this time. I won’t be related to the baby. How can we ask a mother to give up her child to save the world?”
He didn’t reply and she was just about to go on when he stopped and held up his hand. Then in a flash he pulled her into the shadow of a clump of dead bushes by the side of the road as a gang of the zombie like creatures they’d seen when they first arrived came shambling round the corner.Hair matted, their eyes vacant, clothes filthy, but the weapons they carried were obviously sharp and deadly.
Buffy shuddered. These were humans; people she vaguely recognised as neighbours, the lady from the dry-cleaning shop, the guy from the garage, the boy who delivered the newspapers. All had the same angry, confused, insane air about them.
Spike tightened his grip and muttered in her ear. “Stay still, Slayer, unless you want to start staking humans. They’re out hunting.”
Slowly the gang passed by but Buffy still stood there, her head buried against Spike’s chest. She didn’t want to look at him, because suddenly she was confused.
She’d realised that this was her life; she’d been standing, hiding from a pack of maniacs, cold and hungry, sharp thorny twigs digging in her hair. She’d been standing with her arms wound tightly round the waist of a man she loved to the very depths of her soul, wondering how to defeat a Hell God, when she’d realised what she was feeling.
Despite all the trouble and death surrounding her, just knowing that she and Spike were together made her feel ecstatically, overwhelmingly, joyfully happy.
to be continued
Chp 6 Hotel California
Something to Sing About by Lilachigh
Chp 6 Hotel California
The gloomy bulk of the Hotel California where Ben had made his headquarters lay hidden behind a tangle of trees and bushes at the far end of a winding driveway. Only half a mile away, the small Sunnydale airport stood silent and deserted, the only sign of life a skinny prowling cat.
An hour ago, as Buffy had watched the shambling things that had once been humans pass the place where she and Spike were hiding, she’d known she had no choice. Any one of these could have been Willow or Xander or any of her friends. Whatever it took, she had to stop Ben in this world, just as she had stopped Glory in the other.
Whoever was having the baby whose blood Ben needed so badly to open his hell dimension, she and Spike would be there to protect her and the infant.
Her decision to investigate the hotel where Ben had his headquarters had got Spike’s full approval, apart from moaning that it was a long way to walk. They’d started out across town, cutting through back alleyways and empty yards. Spike had been desperate to use a motorbike he found abandoned in a garage, but Buffy had insisted that their first approach be made with a little more stealth than bravado.
“We’re not going to accomplish much spying if we roar up to the front door on a bike!”
Spike reluctantly agreed, but he had an expression on his face like a small boy who’d been deprived of his Christmas presents and Buffy had the strong sensation that given half a chance, he’d go back for the metal monster as he kept muttering “but it was a Harley!” under his breath.
Now they were silently stalking through the undergrowth. The gates across the drive had been locked shut, but there were no guards and it had only taken them seconds to vault over the top.
“Can you sense any of those same ugly creatures Glory had around her?” Buffy whispered, peering through the dead, twisted branches to where faint lights glimmered inside the hotel.
Spike tilted his head and scented the air. “There’s one standing over there – by that flight of steps. Stay here, pet. Leave him to me.”
“No noise!”
“Oh don’t worry, sweetheart. I can do the bloody James Bond bit as well as anyone.”
She strained her ears as he vanished from her side and suddenly there was a slight, violent rustle and a sound that could have been a croak or a neck breaking.
Then just as silently, he was back at her side, shimmering out of game face, wiping blood off his mouth. She stared at him in horror. She’d forgotten that in this world Spike wasn’t chipped. He didn’t kill because he had his demon under control in a way she didn’t understand, but he could kill and eat and did when he had to.
“What?”
“Nothing – it’s just – I’d forgotten you kill and eat in this world.”
“Only demons or monsters, pet. You know that.” She could hear the hurt in his voice. “Would you rather I was chipped, like back home?”
She hesitated, glad that the dark hid her expression, then realised that with his vampire vision he could see her quite clearly. “No, of course I wouldn’t want you chipped! I need you able to fight, not be on a leash.”
“You don’t seem to mind in our other world.”
Buffy bit her lip. There it was again – the other world making a difference to how they acted in this one. “Things are – different there.”
“Well, let’s see, you’ve just come back from the dead, you’ve got a kid sister who is green energy that opens a hell universe, we’re not married and you say you don’t love me – so yes, top marks, Slayer. Things are very different. I wonder if I didn’t have the chip back home, would you trust me like you do here?”
She winced at the pain in his voice. “Spike – ” she paused. There was too much to say and too little time to say it. “We so can’t get into this now. We’ve got to find out what Ben‘s doing. What he’s planning. Our problems will just have to wait. Please.”
In the darkness, a cool hand found her face and cupped her cheek. Lips hovered over hers, brushing them with a feather kiss that sent ripples of desire through her body. She could taste demon blood and shuddered, her stomach curling in sudden sickness.
“OK, Slayer. You win — for now. We’ll go sort out another soddin’ hell god, save this Sunnydale and everyone in it, hand out pizza and chocolate shakes and probably discover Elvis is still alive and kicking in this Gracelands, because that’s what we do. Perhaps then we’ll have some time for ourselves!”
She squeezed his hand, then turned and crept up to the hotel entrance.
“Welcome to the Hotel California,” Spike hummed the Eagles hit under his breath. “No lights on the ground floor,” he muttered. “Plenty higher up. Looks like they’ve cornered the candle market.”
Buffy gazed at the wall in front of her. It was covered with the dead tendrils of what had once been some type of creeper. A few feet to one side of its trunk, the balcony to a wide-open window beckoned invitingly.
Without words, Spike bent, took one of her feet in both hands and with one smooth thrust, sent her soaring into the air. He watched as she clung to the vine, then swung to the side, hand hands just catching the bottom edge of the balcony.
His own leap took him almost as high and with a sweep of her arm, their hands met, gripped and she swung him up beside her.
“Bleedin’ hell, pet, perhaps we should give up the slaying lark and join a circus,” he muttered in her ear. “You’d look great in one of those little bra and shorts efforts, all tight satin and sequins.”
Buffy glared at him, then found her lips twitching. She had a sudden picture of Spike standing on a trapeze, wearing nothing but tight white Lycra trousers. Hey, she could live with that. Perhaps his idea wasn’t as crazy as it seemed!
She pulled the window open a little more and peered inside. The room was empty. A candle stood flickering on a table, but she could hear talking nearby and the door into the corridor stood wide open.
With Spike at her shoulder, she sidled silently across the room and padded down the passageway. There was chanting now, lots of voices in a mad cacophony of sound. The passage turned a corner and Buffy stopped abruptly, hearing Spike hiss as he cannoned into her.
“Sorry!” She beckoned him forward. They were standing behind a heavy purple velvet curtain that covered the end of the passage. One side had broken away from the hooks holding it up and she could see they had come out onto a railed gallery that ran round a vast hall.
Obviously at some time in the past this had been the hotel’s ballroom. The walls were lined with mirrors and they reflected endlessly the highly polished floor and the hundreds of candles that were blazing in holders everywhere Buffy looked.
She felt Spike’s hand close tightly over hers as they gazed down at the centre of the room. Fifty or sixty brown robed, hooded demons were standing, chanting, holding out their arms in supplication to a figure sitting in a throne in the middle of the circle.
Buffy had no difficulty in recognising him. He was wearing a richly patterned, blue and red robe; there were gold chains around his neck and a diamond stud in one ear. But the face, the hair, the air of innocent good humour. All were the same. It was Ben.
“Too many to fight, pet.” Spike’s words were a whispered whisper and she knew he was right. She was certain that they could account for a lot of them, but if Ben were like Glory in this world, then she would need a lot more firepower.
“What’s all the chanting for? she muttered. “Don’t remember Glory‘s boys doing a whole lot of umming and omming.”
“Some weird L.A. new-age bonding thing, perhaps?” Spike said sarcastically. “Pity we sent Cordelia packing last time we were here. She’d have been the girl to know about this load of shite.”
“No sign of a baby anyway, so that’s all for the good.” Buffy gazed down at Ben. He looked so innocuous; it was almost impossible to believe what he was, what he was capable of doing. She had never discovered how Ben had died – because, hey, too busy dying herself. She know Ben had been Glory and Glory was Ben, and someone had killed him, but who -?
Suddenly, the chanting stopped and Buffy froze, her hand holding the curtain almost closed in front of them. She could just see Ben standing up, holding up his hand and then his voice rang out - “My time is nearly here. The day I return to my kingdom is almost upon us. You have all been patient but soon you will reap your rewards, as I promised. The Key is here. The Key has arrived in this world.”
Buffy choked back a gasp and felt Spike shimmer into game face. The baby was in Sunnydale. Oh god, she had to find it, save it from Ben. But how?
One of the robed demons stepped forward and timidly asked, “If a grovelling fool such as I dare ask such a omnipotent personage as the Great Ben, where is the Key, Sire? When did it arrive? Is it safely kept? Who has the baby? Who owns your Key?”
Ben threw back his head and laughed. “Oh the key is being very well kept. In fact, it couldn’t have a better protector. The Slayer herself is carrying The Key! And when I rip it from her body, it’s blood will open every gate to hell I desire.”
To be continued
Chp 6 Hotel California
The gloomy bulk of the Hotel California where Ben had made his headquarters lay hidden behind a tangle of trees and bushes at the far end of a winding driveway. Only half a mile away, the small Sunnydale airport stood silent and deserted, the only sign of life a skinny prowling cat.
An hour ago, as Buffy had watched the shambling things that had once been humans pass the place where she and Spike were hiding, she’d known she had no choice. Any one of these could have been Willow or Xander or any of her friends. Whatever it took, she had to stop Ben in this world, just as she had stopped Glory in the other.
Whoever was having the baby whose blood Ben needed so badly to open his hell dimension, she and Spike would be there to protect her and the infant.
Her decision to investigate the hotel where Ben had his headquarters had got Spike’s full approval, apart from moaning that it was a long way to walk. They’d started out across town, cutting through back alleyways and empty yards. Spike had been desperate to use a motorbike he found abandoned in a garage, but Buffy had insisted that their first approach be made with a little more stealth than bravado.
“We’re not going to accomplish much spying if we roar up to the front door on a bike!”
Spike reluctantly agreed, but he had an expression on his face like a small boy who’d been deprived of his Christmas presents and Buffy had the strong sensation that given half a chance, he’d go back for the metal monster as he kept muttering “but it was a Harley!” under his breath.
Now they were silently stalking through the undergrowth. The gates across the drive had been locked shut, but there were no guards and it had only taken them seconds to vault over the top.
“Can you sense any of those same ugly creatures Glory had around her?” Buffy whispered, peering through the dead, twisted branches to where faint lights glimmered inside the hotel.
Spike tilted his head and scented the air. “There’s one standing over there – by that flight of steps. Stay here, pet. Leave him to me.”
“No noise!”
“Oh don’t worry, sweetheart. I can do the bloody James Bond bit as well as anyone.”
She strained her ears as he vanished from her side and suddenly there was a slight, violent rustle and a sound that could have been a croak or a neck breaking.
Then just as silently, he was back at her side, shimmering out of game face, wiping blood off his mouth. She stared at him in horror. She’d forgotten that in this world Spike wasn’t chipped. He didn’t kill because he had his demon under control in a way she didn’t understand, but he could kill and eat and did when he had to.
“What?”
“Nothing – it’s just – I’d forgotten you kill and eat in this world.”
“Only demons or monsters, pet. You know that.” She could hear the hurt in his voice. “Would you rather I was chipped, like back home?”
She hesitated, glad that the dark hid her expression, then realised that with his vampire vision he could see her quite clearly. “No, of course I wouldn’t want you chipped! I need you able to fight, not be on a leash.”
“You don’t seem to mind in our other world.”
Buffy bit her lip. There it was again – the other world making a difference to how they acted in this one. “Things are – different there.”
“Well, let’s see, you’ve just come back from the dead, you’ve got a kid sister who is green energy that opens a hell universe, we’re not married and you say you don’t love me – so yes, top marks, Slayer. Things are very different. I wonder if I didn’t have the chip back home, would you trust me like you do here?”
She winced at the pain in his voice. “Spike – ” she paused. There was too much to say and too little time to say it. “We so can’t get into this now. We’ve got to find out what Ben‘s doing. What he’s planning. Our problems will just have to wait. Please.”
In the darkness, a cool hand found her face and cupped her cheek. Lips hovered over hers, brushing them with a feather kiss that sent ripples of desire through her body. She could taste demon blood and shuddered, her stomach curling in sudden sickness.
“OK, Slayer. You win — for now. We’ll go sort out another soddin’ hell god, save this Sunnydale and everyone in it, hand out pizza and chocolate shakes and probably discover Elvis is still alive and kicking in this Gracelands, because that’s what we do. Perhaps then we’ll have some time for ourselves!”
She squeezed his hand, then turned and crept up to the hotel entrance.
“Welcome to the Hotel California,” Spike hummed the Eagles hit under his breath. “No lights on the ground floor,” he muttered. “Plenty higher up. Looks like they’ve cornered the candle market.”
Buffy gazed at the wall in front of her. It was covered with the dead tendrils of what had once been some type of creeper. A few feet to one side of its trunk, the balcony to a wide-open window beckoned invitingly.
Without words, Spike bent, took one of her feet in both hands and with one smooth thrust, sent her soaring into the air. He watched as she clung to the vine, then swung to the side, hand hands just catching the bottom edge of the balcony.
His own leap took him almost as high and with a sweep of her arm, their hands met, gripped and she swung him up beside her.
“Bleedin’ hell, pet, perhaps we should give up the slaying lark and join a circus,” he muttered in her ear. “You’d look great in one of those little bra and shorts efforts, all tight satin and sequins.”
Buffy glared at him, then found her lips twitching. She had a sudden picture of Spike standing on a trapeze, wearing nothing but tight white Lycra trousers. Hey, she could live with that. Perhaps his idea wasn’t as crazy as it seemed!
She pulled the window open a little more and peered inside. The room was empty. A candle stood flickering on a table, but she could hear talking nearby and the door into the corridor stood wide open.
With Spike at her shoulder, she sidled silently across the room and padded down the passageway. There was chanting now, lots of voices in a mad cacophony of sound. The passage turned a corner and Buffy stopped abruptly, hearing Spike hiss as he cannoned into her.
“Sorry!” She beckoned him forward. They were standing behind a heavy purple velvet curtain that covered the end of the passage. One side had broken away from the hooks holding it up and she could see they had come out onto a railed gallery that ran round a vast hall.
Obviously at some time in the past this had been the hotel’s ballroom. The walls were lined with mirrors and they reflected endlessly the highly polished floor and the hundreds of candles that were blazing in holders everywhere Buffy looked.
She felt Spike’s hand close tightly over hers as they gazed down at the centre of the room. Fifty or sixty brown robed, hooded demons were standing, chanting, holding out their arms in supplication to a figure sitting in a throne in the middle of the circle.
Buffy had no difficulty in recognising him. He was wearing a richly patterned, blue and red robe; there were gold chains around his neck and a diamond stud in one ear. But the face, the hair, the air of innocent good humour. All were the same. It was Ben.
“Too many to fight, pet.” Spike’s words were a whispered whisper and she knew he was right. She was certain that they could account for a lot of them, but if Ben were like Glory in this world, then she would need a lot more firepower.
“What’s all the chanting for? she muttered. “Don’t remember Glory‘s boys doing a whole lot of umming and omming.”
“Some weird L.A. new-age bonding thing, perhaps?” Spike said sarcastically. “Pity we sent Cordelia packing last time we were here. She’d have been the girl to know about this load of shite.”
“No sign of a baby anyway, so that’s all for the good.” Buffy gazed down at Ben. He looked so innocuous; it was almost impossible to believe what he was, what he was capable of doing. She had never discovered how Ben had died – because, hey, too busy dying herself. She know Ben had been Glory and Glory was Ben, and someone had killed him, but who -?
Suddenly, the chanting stopped and Buffy froze, her hand holding the curtain almost closed in front of them. She could just see Ben standing up, holding up his hand and then his voice rang out - “My time is nearly here. The day I return to my kingdom is almost upon us. You have all been patient but soon you will reap your rewards, as I promised. The Key is here. The Key has arrived in this world.”
Buffy choked back a gasp and felt Spike shimmer into game face. The baby was in Sunnydale. Oh god, she had to find it, save it from Ben. But how?
One of the robed demons stepped forward and timidly asked, “If a grovelling fool such as I dare ask such a omnipotent personage as the Great Ben, where is the Key, Sire? When did it arrive? Is it safely kept? Who has the baby? Who owns your Key?”
Ben threw back his head and laughed. “Oh the key is being very well kept. In fact, it couldn’t have a better protector. The Slayer herself is carrying The Key! And when I rip it from her body, it’s blood will open every gate to hell I desire.”
To be continued
Chp 7 You Will Not Die!
Something to Sing About by Lilachigh
Chp 7 You Will Not Die!
Buffy was running – she couldn’t remember how she’d got there, vaguely recalled leaping from a high window ledge, the jarring thud as she landed – but now she was running at top speed through the dirty dark streets of Sunnydale, her breath tearing in her throat.
Somewhere behind her she could hear footsteps and a voice shouting her name. But she refused to stop! If she could just keep running, then somehow, somewhere she would find safety, her Mom would be there to wake her up, tell her what she was hearing and feeling was all a dreadful nightmare and that it was time for school and did she want pancakes?
“Buffy! Stop!” The voice came again, closer this time. And it was a voice she loved, but she still couldn’t stop. There was a gate; she knew instinctively where it led – into a graveyard.
She could feel grass under her feet now and she was tripping and getting up and running again until she reached a granite walled crypt and flung herself on the ground, tearing at her stomach, hitting herself, over and over again.
Cold hands of steel reached for hers, holding her as she screamed, stopping her frantic clawing, then pulling her close, closer still, to a hard sanctuary locked in black leather arms that would never let anyone hurt her.
The shuddering sobs faded slowly as the world rocked back on its axis. She felt a hand soothing her hair, and Spike’s voice murmuring nonsense in her ear.
She lay for a few minutes, fighting for control, calling on years of discipline, of being in charge, the one who everybody relied on. Buffy knew that once she pulled herself away from Spike’s arms, she could not give in to the distress that was tearing at her very soul.
She lifted her head from the only place she ever felt safe, squared her shoulders and stopped being Buffy. She was the Slayer as much in this universe as the other.
Spike watched as his wife’s face changed. The overwhelming grief – that he still didn’t fully understand – was being wiped away, second by second: forced inward by will-power alone. And it terrified him. No one should have to be this strong. “Buffy, sweetheart – listen – ”
Buffy pushed her tangled hair back behind her ears and stood up. “Sorry, Spike. That was stupid. I’m OK now. So, I’m carrying the Key. Do you reckon it’ll be all glowy and green or will it be an actual baby. A baby Dawn, perhaps?”
Spike winced at the brittle tone of her voice. “Stop it, Slayer!” he hissed, his anger almost making him vamp out. “Stop hiding from me.”
“Not hiding, Spike. Right here, unfortunately. Feel!” She leant forward and pinched his hand, forcing herself to smile. She’d freaked out when she heard what Ben had said – that she was pregnant, carrying the Key that would unlock the devil dimension he was trying to return to once again.
She knew Spike thought it was because she was wigged about carrying some devil spawn, and of course she was. But – she felt another cold shudder run through her body – it wasn’t just that.
When she’d heard Ben’s words, she’d realised in a flash that what she wanted more than anything in the world – and what she would never, ever have – was Spike’s child. The reality of their situation had never been so clear to her before. Oh, she’d always known that being the Slayer probably meant she wouldn’t even be alive long enough to have and raise a child. There was no way she could have anyone’s baby if she was likely to die at any moment.
No, what had upset her so dreadfully was that she and Spike would never share that between them. She was pregnant with some devil thing when she should have been carrying William’s baby. And she could never tell him because she didn’t have the words.
“So, what do you suggest we do now?” she said, brushing the earth and grass off her jeans. She touched the denim stretched across her stomach. Was there a slight curve there now? How fast would the Key grow inside her? Nine months, two weeks, one day? Would it be human, or have claws or just glow?
Spike studied her face, feeling uneasy. He’d have been far happier if she’d been screaming and yelling. He could understand that sort of passion. This cold withdrawal, the tunnel vision of coping with the mission and nothing else, freaked him out.
“Well, pet, we’ve only got wanker Ben’s word for it. He could have been lying to his bloody minions.”
“Why would he do that?”
Spike shrugged and pulled Buffy’s arm through his. He was scared to let her go. He felt that if he didn’t hold on to her, she would vanish. “Pride, pet. Trying to keep them in line, perhaps. If he’s promised them all a free pass into some sodding devil universe and can’t produce the Key to open the door, then, perhaps he’d lose their loyalty.”
“So, if I go home – back to the other Sunnydale – will this –this Key thingy inside me just vanish?” She tried to keep the hope out of her voice.
“Could do.”
“If I’m not here, then Ben will know he isn’t getting his Key, so he’ll, well, he’ll – ”
“Head for Hawaii for a quick holiday? I don’t think so, pet.”
Buffy stopped and stared around at the wind-swept graveyard. Back home the cemeteries were usually well-kept, neat graves with flowers and sometimes little messages, toy birds and butterflies. But here everything was dirty and overgrown. The tree branches rattled together like bony arms and the moon sulked behind thick clouds.
The whole town was being suffocated under Ben’s influence and if she ran away, nothing would change. Ben would probably just decide to live here forever, spreading his miasma of hatred and despair until it covered the whole state, the whole country and maybe the whole world.
“So I’ve got to get rid of this Key, then get rid of Ben,” she said, squaring her shoulders as if carrying a heavy burden. “No problem! What do I do in the afternoon?”
“You could use the word ‘we’ if you tried, pet,” Spike muttered, almost under his breath.
Buffy flinched. She knew she was hurting him and couldn’t stop. “Well, I suppose as a last resort, I can always do what I did before,” she said sharply. “I haven’t seen any rickety old tower being built in town yet, but I so reckon it won’t be long now Ben knows the Key is on its way. Perhaps it’s Fate. That I’m always supposed to save the world by dying, whichever world I’m in.”
Spike grabbed her arms and pulled her round to face him. “Stop it, Buffy! Stop this now!”
She looked away, unable to meet the blazing blue of his frightened eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’ve told you before, I’m not going to let you jump off some bloody tower and sacrifice yourself again, so just forget it! I don’t believe in soddin’ Fate. We’ll find some other way of killing Ben. Look at me, Buffy. Look at me, pet!”
Slowly Buffy raised her head and gazed into the face that she loved, even if she couldn’t admit it. She was fighting back the tears she refused to shed.
“You’ve got to trust me, Slayer. If you’ve never trusted me in the past, if you ever trust me ever again in the future, okay. But right now, you’ve got to believe me. We’ll fight this together this time. And you will not die!”
tbc.
Chp 7 You Will Not Die!
Buffy was running – she couldn’t remember how she’d got there, vaguely recalled leaping from a high window ledge, the jarring thud as she landed – but now she was running at top speed through the dirty dark streets of Sunnydale, her breath tearing in her throat.
Somewhere behind her she could hear footsteps and a voice shouting her name. But she refused to stop! If she could just keep running, then somehow, somewhere she would find safety, her Mom would be there to wake her up, tell her what she was hearing and feeling was all a dreadful nightmare and that it was time for school and did she want pancakes?
“Buffy! Stop!” The voice came again, closer this time. And it was a voice she loved, but she still couldn’t stop. There was a gate; she knew instinctively where it led – into a graveyard.
She could feel grass under her feet now and she was tripping and getting up and running again until she reached a granite walled crypt and flung herself on the ground, tearing at her stomach, hitting herself, over and over again.
Cold hands of steel reached for hers, holding her as she screamed, stopping her frantic clawing, then pulling her close, closer still, to a hard sanctuary locked in black leather arms that would never let anyone hurt her.
The shuddering sobs faded slowly as the world rocked back on its axis. She felt a hand soothing her hair, and Spike’s voice murmuring nonsense in her ear.
She lay for a few minutes, fighting for control, calling on years of discipline, of being in charge, the one who everybody relied on. Buffy knew that once she pulled herself away from Spike’s arms, she could not give in to the distress that was tearing at her very soul.
She lifted her head from the only place she ever felt safe, squared her shoulders and stopped being Buffy. She was the Slayer as much in this universe as the other.
Spike watched as his wife’s face changed. The overwhelming grief – that he still didn’t fully understand – was being wiped away, second by second: forced inward by will-power alone. And it terrified him. No one should have to be this strong. “Buffy, sweetheart – listen – ”
Buffy pushed her tangled hair back behind her ears and stood up. “Sorry, Spike. That was stupid. I’m OK now. So, I’m carrying the Key. Do you reckon it’ll be all glowy and green or will it be an actual baby. A baby Dawn, perhaps?”
Spike winced at the brittle tone of her voice. “Stop it, Slayer!” he hissed, his anger almost making him vamp out. “Stop hiding from me.”
“Not hiding, Spike. Right here, unfortunately. Feel!” She leant forward and pinched his hand, forcing herself to smile. She’d freaked out when she heard what Ben had said – that she was pregnant, carrying the Key that would unlock the devil dimension he was trying to return to once again.
She knew Spike thought it was because she was wigged about carrying some devil spawn, and of course she was. But – she felt another cold shudder run through her body – it wasn’t just that.
When she’d heard Ben’s words, she’d realised in a flash that what she wanted more than anything in the world – and what she would never, ever have – was Spike’s child. The reality of their situation had never been so clear to her before. Oh, she’d always known that being the Slayer probably meant she wouldn’t even be alive long enough to have and raise a child. There was no way she could have anyone’s baby if she was likely to die at any moment.
No, what had upset her so dreadfully was that she and Spike would never share that between them. She was pregnant with some devil thing when she should have been carrying William’s baby. And she could never tell him because she didn’t have the words.
“So, what do you suggest we do now?” she said, brushing the earth and grass off her jeans. She touched the denim stretched across her stomach. Was there a slight curve there now? How fast would the Key grow inside her? Nine months, two weeks, one day? Would it be human, or have claws or just glow?
Spike studied her face, feeling uneasy. He’d have been far happier if she’d been screaming and yelling. He could understand that sort of passion. This cold withdrawal, the tunnel vision of coping with the mission and nothing else, freaked him out.
“Well, pet, we’ve only got wanker Ben’s word for it. He could have been lying to his bloody minions.”
“Why would he do that?”
Spike shrugged and pulled Buffy’s arm through his. He was scared to let her go. He felt that if he didn’t hold on to her, she would vanish. “Pride, pet. Trying to keep them in line, perhaps. If he’s promised them all a free pass into some sodding devil universe and can’t produce the Key to open the door, then, perhaps he’d lose their loyalty.”
“So, if I go home – back to the other Sunnydale – will this –this Key thingy inside me just vanish?” She tried to keep the hope out of her voice.
“Could do.”
“If I’m not here, then Ben will know he isn’t getting his Key, so he’ll, well, he’ll – ”
“Head for Hawaii for a quick holiday? I don’t think so, pet.”
Buffy stopped and stared around at the wind-swept graveyard. Back home the cemeteries were usually well-kept, neat graves with flowers and sometimes little messages, toy birds and butterflies. But here everything was dirty and overgrown. The tree branches rattled together like bony arms and the moon sulked behind thick clouds.
The whole town was being suffocated under Ben’s influence and if she ran away, nothing would change. Ben would probably just decide to live here forever, spreading his miasma of hatred and despair until it covered the whole state, the whole country and maybe the whole world.
“So I’ve got to get rid of this Key, then get rid of Ben,” she said, squaring her shoulders as if carrying a heavy burden. “No problem! What do I do in the afternoon?”
“You could use the word ‘we’ if you tried, pet,” Spike muttered, almost under his breath.
Buffy flinched. She knew she was hurting him and couldn’t stop. “Well, I suppose as a last resort, I can always do what I did before,” she said sharply. “I haven’t seen any rickety old tower being built in town yet, but I so reckon it won’t be long now Ben knows the Key is on its way. Perhaps it’s Fate. That I’m always supposed to save the world by dying, whichever world I’m in.”
Spike grabbed her arms and pulled her round to face him. “Stop it, Buffy! Stop this now!”
She looked away, unable to meet the blazing blue of his frightened eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’ve told you before, I’m not going to let you jump off some bloody tower and sacrifice yourself again, so just forget it! I don’t believe in soddin’ Fate. We’ll find some other way of killing Ben. Look at me, Buffy. Look at me, pet!”
Slowly Buffy raised her head and gazed into the face that she loved, even if she couldn’t admit it. She was fighting back the tears she refused to shed.
“You’ve got to trust me, Slayer. If you’ve never trusted me in the past, if you ever trust me ever again in the future, okay. But right now, you’ve got to believe me. We’ll fight this together this time. And you will not die!”
tbc.
Chp 8 “Where were you when I died?â€
Something to Sing About by Lilachigh
Chapter 8 “Where were you when I died?”
2nd WARNING: Some discussion about terminating a pregnancy in this chpt.
The walk home to Revello Drive through the dark, dirty streets of the other Sunnydale, was made in silence. Spike kept Buffy’s hand firmly locked in his, as if he was scared to let her go, even for an instant. He had the feeling that if she started to run again, he wouldn’t catch her a second time.
Buffy was eager to get indoors. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed, pull the covers over her head and sleep for a million, zillion years. The temptation to leap through the portal that was still whirling and blinking in the corner of the kitchen was over-whelming.
Buffy guessed that the second she arrived back in the first Sunnydale, the Key baby she was carrying would vanish. But that was the big, mind-shattering problem - if she did go back, then this Sunnydale would fall to Ben’s demonic power. He would have no way of returning to his own hell dimension, so would stay here, terrorising and killing and converting everyone he could to his brand of evil.
She didn’t – as was so often the case – have any choice. She had to find some way of defeating Ben while at the same time stopping him getting hold of the Key. Well, one way, of course, was to get rid of the Key before it even arrived in this world.
She felt a wave of nausea rise in her throat. Oh yes, it was great being the Slayer! In one world she’d had to die, in this one she had to kill the child she was carrying. No wonder not many Slayers lived past their middle twenties. She reckoned they were probably begging to be slain if they had to face up to this sort of torment too often.
“Are you going to tell Willow and Xander about the baby?” Spike asked when they were safely indoors with the door locked.
Buffy shook her head, trying to drag her mind back to the present. “Not yet. Don’t forget, we’ve had ages to get used to Dawn being the Key and our memories being altered by those grungy monks. Willow in this world looks as if she’s right on the edge as it is. Something like this could push her over. And we know Xander drinks heavily. It’s not fair putting this on him. Oh god, Spike – “ she slumped onto the sofa - “Nothing’s good here, is it?”
The vampire threw himself down next to his wife. “We’re married, sweetheart. That’s a plus. And so far, whatever magic the monks are using, it hasn’t played with our memories. Hey, does this baby Key mean I’m going to be a Daddy?”
Buffy felt tears well up in her eyes and fought them back. How could he joke about this? Why didn’t he realise that she was so upset because she’d suddenly realised she would never carry Spike’s child. No matter how much she loved him in this world, or pretended not to in the other, she would never, ever have his baby.
“Spike – ” She frowned, doing the automatic counting in her head that every girl could do. “I can’t stay here for what, another eight months? Dawn will be frantic. And our Willow and Xander. And Giles. They’ll try and discover where we’ve gone. What if they succeed? They might find the portal and come through – then – ”
She stared at him, her eyes round with worry.
“Well, we know that we exist in either one place or the other but not both. That there’s only one of us,” Spike said, frowning, trying to get his brain to work. He raked his fingers through his hair and wished to god he smoked in this world. He would have given ten years of his unlife for a ciggie.
“But Oz came through the portal to bring us a message from Willow last time. He obviously existed in both worlds, so I wouldn’t worry too much about the others. I think the only problem would be if they met up!”
Spike leapt up and prowled round the room. “Perhaps it was because Oz was human? Vampire, Slayer, maybe there’s a difference.”
Buffy pulled off her boots, wriggling her toes in relief. “Willow’s original spell was created for us. I expect that’s got something to do with it. But, I’m past the thinking stage. Big no to thinking anymore. Big yes to going to sleep.”
“Are you ill? Do you feel OK, pet?” Spike was by her side, his eyes anxious.
Buffy moved away from his touch. She didn’t want his sympathy; she just wanted to go to bed. “I’m pregnant, not sick, Spike. You’ve got eight months to do the caring, sharing routine. I so don’t need it tonight.”
“You intend having this baby, then? If you get rid of it - ?” In the dark shadows of the living-room, she couldn’t see his face, but she could hear the hurt in his voice and hated herself.
He was trying to help her, she knew that, but at the end of the day, help just made her weaker. At every turn in her life, whenever the final hand had to be played, she’d always had just one person to rely on – herself. She couldn’t see that this situation was going to be any different.
“If I thought getting rid of the Key would help Sunnydale, save this world, then – yes, I’d do that,” she said, her voice suddenly hoarse. “But I don’t reckon glowing green energy will be that easy to shift. And how exactly would I do it? Have you thought about that, because, believe me, I have!”
She bit her lip so hard blood appeared in small pinpricks and Spike fought back an automatic growl of unassuaged hunger. “Face it, Spike, I’d need a demon doctor and – look, don’t let‘s even go there! I’ll think about it tomorrow. We’ve got to find a way of defeating Ben – and soon.”
She rolled herself onto the sofa and pulled the dusty comforter over her shoulders. She was too tired to climb the stairs to bed and anyway, there were far too many memories tied to that room. She could still feel the passion that she and Spike had shared there.
Buffy shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep. She heard her husband clatter down the stairs into the basement and knew he was checking that the house was secure. Her husband – it sounded odd, it sounded right, it sounded impossible.
‘Give me something to sing about’, she remembered singing that only days ago to Sweet, the dancing demon. What was the old saying she’d heard Giles use once, “Never wish for something – it might come true!”
Well, someone had obviously taken her at her word. The difference between this life and the one she had back home was so great that she realised now how lucky she was there.
OK, not a lot of money but alive with a sister, friends, a town that was free of a power-crazed god. It sounded marvellous compared to living in an evil ridden Sunnydale, pregnant with some mystical baby, thinking about termination and having to fight the same hell-god in a different guise.
But no vampire husband, a voice whispered inside her head, and just then she felt his weight on the sofa next to her and his arms holding her tight.
“You don’t have to face this alone, Buffy.” The voice close to her ear was rough and low. “Don’t shut me out.”
She tried to pull free, but the arms that had been holding her so tenderly only seconds earlier, turned into steel bands that held her fast.
“No! Listen for once in your life, Slayer! We’re in one hell of a mess. I know that. But you don’t have to cope with it on your own.”
“But I had to deal with Glory on my own. I had to die to save Dawn, to save the world. Where were you then? Where were you when I had to jump?” The words were out, slashing and burning, before she could call them back and a bitter blister of hurt she hadn’t even realised she still carried inside her, burst wide open.
She heard the hiss of breath, felt the shudder run through his body, as if she’d stuck a knife between his ribs.
“I didn’t save you, pet. I live with that every day, every night. But this isn’t the same as Glory, pet. It’s different. We’re together now. We weren’t then.”
For long seconds Buffy strained against his arms, desperate to escape. She knew that flight was how she’d always dealt with emotion, grief and loss all her life. A Slayer was always on her own. There was never anyone she could totally rely on, even those closest to her, those she loved.
And she did love Spike, in this universe and the other as well but he was asking for more than her love, he was asking for her trust – and slowly, inch by inch, she began to relax back into his arms.
To be continued
Chapter 8 “Where were you when I died?”
2nd WARNING: Some discussion about terminating a pregnancy in this chpt.
The walk home to Revello Drive through the dark, dirty streets of the other Sunnydale, was made in silence. Spike kept Buffy’s hand firmly locked in his, as if he was scared to let her go, even for an instant. He had the feeling that if she started to run again, he wouldn’t catch her a second time.
Buffy was eager to get indoors. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed, pull the covers over her head and sleep for a million, zillion years. The temptation to leap through the portal that was still whirling and blinking in the corner of the kitchen was over-whelming.
Buffy guessed that the second she arrived back in the first Sunnydale, the Key baby she was carrying would vanish. But that was the big, mind-shattering problem - if she did go back, then this Sunnydale would fall to Ben’s demonic power. He would have no way of returning to his own hell dimension, so would stay here, terrorising and killing and converting everyone he could to his brand of evil.
She didn’t – as was so often the case – have any choice. She had to find some way of defeating Ben while at the same time stopping him getting hold of the Key. Well, one way, of course, was to get rid of the Key before it even arrived in this world.
She felt a wave of nausea rise in her throat. Oh yes, it was great being the Slayer! In one world she’d had to die, in this one she had to kill the child she was carrying. No wonder not many Slayers lived past their middle twenties. She reckoned they were probably begging to be slain if they had to face up to this sort of torment too often.
“Are you going to tell Willow and Xander about the baby?” Spike asked when they were safely indoors with the door locked.
Buffy shook her head, trying to drag her mind back to the present. “Not yet. Don’t forget, we’ve had ages to get used to Dawn being the Key and our memories being altered by those grungy monks. Willow in this world looks as if she’s right on the edge as it is. Something like this could push her over. And we know Xander drinks heavily. It’s not fair putting this on him. Oh god, Spike – “ she slumped onto the sofa - “Nothing’s good here, is it?”
The vampire threw himself down next to his wife. “We’re married, sweetheart. That’s a plus. And so far, whatever magic the monks are using, it hasn’t played with our memories. Hey, does this baby Key mean I’m going to be a Daddy?”
Buffy felt tears well up in her eyes and fought them back. How could he joke about this? Why didn’t he realise that she was so upset because she’d suddenly realised she would never carry Spike’s child. No matter how much she loved him in this world, or pretended not to in the other, she would never, ever have his baby.
“Spike – ” She frowned, doing the automatic counting in her head that every girl could do. “I can’t stay here for what, another eight months? Dawn will be frantic. And our Willow and Xander. And Giles. They’ll try and discover where we’ve gone. What if they succeed? They might find the portal and come through – then – ”
She stared at him, her eyes round with worry.
“Well, we know that we exist in either one place or the other but not both. That there’s only one of us,” Spike said, frowning, trying to get his brain to work. He raked his fingers through his hair and wished to god he smoked in this world. He would have given ten years of his unlife for a ciggie.
“But Oz came through the portal to bring us a message from Willow last time. He obviously existed in both worlds, so I wouldn’t worry too much about the others. I think the only problem would be if they met up!”
Spike leapt up and prowled round the room. “Perhaps it was because Oz was human? Vampire, Slayer, maybe there’s a difference.”
Buffy pulled off her boots, wriggling her toes in relief. “Willow’s original spell was created for us. I expect that’s got something to do with it. But, I’m past the thinking stage. Big no to thinking anymore. Big yes to going to sleep.”
“Are you ill? Do you feel OK, pet?” Spike was by her side, his eyes anxious.
Buffy moved away from his touch. She didn’t want his sympathy; she just wanted to go to bed. “I’m pregnant, not sick, Spike. You’ve got eight months to do the caring, sharing routine. I so don’t need it tonight.”
“You intend having this baby, then? If you get rid of it - ?” In the dark shadows of the living-room, she couldn’t see his face, but she could hear the hurt in his voice and hated herself.
He was trying to help her, she knew that, but at the end of the day, help just made her weaker. At every turn in her life, whenever the final hand had to be played, she’d always had just one person to rely on – herself. She couldn’t see that this situation was going to be any different.
“If I thought getting rid of the Key would help Sunnydale, save this world, then – yes, I’d do that,” she said, her voice suddenly hoarse. “But I don’t reckon glowing green energy will be that easy to shift. And how exactly would I do it? Have you thought about that, because, believe me, I have!”
She bit her lip so hard blood appeared in small pinpricks and Spike fought back an automatic growl of unassuaged hunger. “Face it, Spike, I’d need a demon doctor and – look, don’t let‘s even go there! I’ll think about it tomorrow. We’ve got to find a way of defeating Ben – and soon.”
She rolled herself onto the sofa and pulled the dusty comforter over her shoulders. She was too tired to climb the stairs to bed and anyway, there were far too many memories tied to that room. She could still feel the passion that she and Spike had shared there.
Buffy shut her eyes and pretended to be asleep. She heard her husband clatter down the stairs into the basement and knew he was checking that the house was secure. Her husband – it sounded odd, it sounded right, it sounded impossible.
‘Give me something to sing about’, she remembered singing that only days ago to Sweet, the dancing demon. What was the old saying she’d heard Giles use once, “Never wish for something – it might come true!”
Well, someone had obviously taken her at her word. The difference between this life and the one she had back home was so great that she realised now how lucky she was there.
OK, not a lot of money but alive with a sister, friends, a town that was free of a power-crazed god. It sounded marvellous compared to living in an evil ridden Sunnydale, pregnant with some mystical baby, thinking about termination and having to fight the same hell-god in a different guise.
But no vampire husband, a voice whispered inside her head, and just then she felt his weight on the sofa next to her and his arms holding her tight.
“You don’t have to face this alone, Buffy.” The voice close to her ear was rough and low. “Don’t shut me out.”
She tried to pull free, but the arms that had been holding her so tenderly only seconds earlier, turned into steel bands that held her fast.
“No! Listen for once in your life, Slayer! We’re in one hell of a mess. I know that. But you don’t have to cope with it on your own.”
“But I had to deal with Glory on my own. I had to die to save Dawn, to save the world. Where were you then? Where were you when I had to jump?” The words were out, slashing and burning, before she could call them back and a bitter blister of hurt she hadn’t even realised she still carried inside her, burst wide open.
She heard the hiss of breath, felt the shudder run through his body, as if she’d stuck a knife between his ribs.
“I didn’t save you, pet. I live with that every day, every night. But this isn’t the same as Glory, pet. It’s different. We’re together now. We weren’t then.”
For long seconds Buffy strained against his arms, desperate to escape. She knew that flight was how she’d always dealt with emotion, grief and loss all her life. A Slayer was always on her own. There was never anyone she could totally rely on, even those closest to her, those she loved.
And she did love Spike, in this universe and the other as well but he was asking for more than her love, he was asking for her trust – and slowly, inch by inch, she began to relax back into his arms.
To be continued
Chp 9 What Sacrifice?
Something to Sing About by Lilachigh
Chp 9 What sacrifice?
Buffy woke to the sound of someone hammering on the front door. Spike’s head was pillowed on her breasts and he grumbled in his sleep as she pushed him to one side. Then she grinned as he rolled off the sofa and fell on the floor.
“That will so teach you to wake up quicker!“ she jeered as the cussing and swearing reached inventive new heights.
She reached the door, checking automatically to make sure that Spike was nowhere near. Daylight flooded in as she opened it. Admittedly it was the dreary grey daylight that she was now used to in this Sunnydale, but still enough to fry her husband.
Outside stood Willow, Tara and Xander: hurrying in, Buffy slammed the door shut behind them. Willow looked awful; pale and ill. Her face was all eyes, her cheekbones pushed through dull skin and there was a defeated air about her. The belligerence she’d shown when she’d first seen Buffy on her return had vanished.
So was this what losing someone you loved so deeply could do to you? Buffy shivered. She tried to imagine what would happen if the other Willow lost Tara. Oh, not just from the silly quarrel they were having at the moment about doing too much magic. But if something dreadful happened and Tara died. Would Willow go to pieces like this? She shook her head. No, that was a silly thought. Nothing was going to happen to Tara.
Xander threw himself into a chair and nodded a greeting at Spike. Buffy smiled inwardly. It still struck her as odd that in this world the two men were friends. But – she wrinkled her nose – even at this early hour she could smell booze on his breath.
“What’s up, Will?” she asked. “Is it Ben?”
The witch nodded, her fingers plucking at a loose thread on her sweater. “Something weird’s happening, Buffy. Early this morning, all the zombie people in town started walking towards the hotel. They’re moaning and muttering more than usual. It’s almost as if they’re being drawn to him.”
“We felt you and Spike ought to know,” Tara added.
“I can feel the power building,” Willow whispered, her eyes darkening. “I can‘t fight it, but I can feel it. He’s pulling it in from the air, from the ground, from these poor people. Buffy, I don’t know what he‘s planning, but believe me, it’s going to happen very soon.”
Buffy shuddered. She ran her hand lightly over her stomach, aware that Spike was watching her. What Ben was after, what he needed to put his plan into action was right here in this room, inside her. The blood of the mystical baby she was carrying would open the portal to the devil dimension that Ben longed for.
It all came rushing back to her – the choice she had to make. She could go back though the portal with Spike; leave this Sunnydale to its own devices. Ben would carry on with his evil domination but at least the world would be safe and untold horrors would not arrive to take over the earth.
Or she could stay here, get rid of the baby and fight Ben. Find some way of defeating him. She’d done it once. But the last time you did it, you had to die, a little voice whispered in her head. Are you prepared to do that again?
She was aware of Spike pulling on his boots, gazing up at her from under frowning dark brows. Things were complicated here by their relationship. Before, when she’d been forced to jump off the tower to save Dawn, she and Spike hadn’t been together.
Now – well, now he was her husband and as such had said he wouldn’t let her sacrifice herself a second time. Of course, being the Slayer, he couldn’t physically stop her, but –
“So Buffy, what are you going to do?” Xander’s voice was thick with fear. “Are you going to help us?”
“Did you find out anything from Willie?” Tara asked. “You were heading there when we last saw you.”
“I don’t think Buffy’s interested,” Willow said suddenly, gazing at her friend’s pale, tense face. “You want to go back, don’t you?” She sounded angry and her hands clenched into fists. “You’re going to leave us to Ben and his cronies. My Oz died for nothing! You don’t care, do you? Admit it? You don’t care at all!”
“Red!” Spike’s voice cracked like a whip but Buffy held out a hand to stop him as he strode forward.
“It’s OK. Will, I’m not going anywhere until this has been dealt with.” She was suddenly calm. She hadn’t even known what she was going to say before she said it, but of course, in the long run whatever she wanted to do, she had a responsibility to this world, just as much as she had to the other.
She was the Slayer. It wasn’t that difficult to do the math. Slayer equals mission equals putting your life before everyone else, no matter what you personally want.
“Buffy?” Spike reached out to touch her and for an instant she linked her fingers with his, then gently pulled away.
“We need to get back to the hotel,” she said briskly. “Will, I know this sounds stupid, but have they started building anything in town – like –? ”
“Like a soddin’ great rickety tower!” Spike put in.
Willow frowned, looked at the others and then shook her head. “No. Nothing like that. Is that what happens next? What’s it for?”
Buffy shrugged. God she needed a cup of coffee but – she flinched - even if there had been power, caffeine and babies were very non-mixy things in any universe. “Hopefully, you’ll never need to know.”
“Do you want us to come with?” Xander asked.
Buffy hesitated. Xander in the other world wouldn’t have asked. He’d have accepted he was going until told otherwise. Then he’d have complained bitterly at being sidelined. This Xander didn’t want to tackle Ben. That was so obvious. She felt a wave of pity flood over her and wished there was some way she could show one of her dearest friends that he could lead a great life without looking at it through the bottom of a bottle.
She glanced round at Willow and Tara. There was no way either was fit to take on Ben or his minions in a fight. The red head looked as if every ounce of strength had been drained out of her and Tara just seemed bewildered.
“No, me and Spike’ll cope. If we need reinforcements we know where to come. Will, I hate to ask, but if you could concentrate on over-riding the control Ben has over the power lines, that would help. Keep some of his mind occupied elsewhere.”
Willow nodded. “I’ll try. It’s either that or the water.” Then she tugged her friend to one side. “Buffy, I’m sorry! I’ve been so horrible to you since you got back.”
Buffy ran her fingers through her hair, longing to wash it and knowing there was no way. “Don’t worry. No biggie. You’ve had a lot to deal with.”
“But I haven’t been dealing, that’s the point! No dealing! Oz dying like that, so pointlessly, being brave, being stupid. I told him -!” She stopped as the memories crowded down on top of her. “All I could think of when you came back was that somewhere, in your other world, Oz is still alive. And that Willow, doesn’t even want him, does she?”
“How did you –?” Buffy stopped, wincing at the pain in her friends eyes, knowing that somehow she’d magiced herself to the other universe to see “Will, that’s there. OK, the people look the same, but you’re not. You’re all different. You might not even have loved the Oz in that world.”
“You and Spike aren’t different.”
“But we don’t exist in both Sunnydales,” Buffy explained. “We can only live in one world at a time. I don’t know why. The other Willow’s spell that made the portal in the first place must have something to do with it.”
The redhead sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “You’re lucky, then. I can tell you it’s major weird knowing that there’s another Willow who doesn’t want her Oz.”
She glanced at Buffy, her eyes sharper for a minute. “Are you and Spike the same in that world? Married and all?”
Buffy shook her head. “No, we’re not – together. Things are different.”
“But you still love each other, right?”
There was a long pause. Buffy stared across the room to where the blond vampire and Xander were sitting, talking quietly together. She wondered what they were discussing. It looked like a normal conversation between two guys who were friends.
Spike was smiling; that smile that was no more that a twitch of his lips and a raise of his eyebrows. But it made his face softer, happier.
“Yes, we love each other,” Buffy whispered and knew, with absolute certainty that what she had just said was the truth. She loved him in both worlds and now she’d admitted it, even to herself.
Spike’s head turned sharply towards her and she felt herself colouring. Vampire hearing! She’d forgotten he could hear a whisper from the other side of the room.
She watched as an expression of pure blazing joy spread over his face. Someone given a glimpse of heaven couldn’t have looked happier. He swung towards her, eyes glinting. “Right, pet. Off to save the world again, are we?”
A single look flashed between them – a question asked and answered – and then she nodded. “OK, sounds like a plan. We’ll have to go through the tunnels, Spike. Can’t afford to watch you doing your famous impersonation of a piece of toast!”
“We’ll go home,” Tara said. “Take care, Buffy. And listen – take care now you’re – ” she stopped, hesitating, puzzled. Buffy was glaring at her; almost as if she was terrified she was going to say more.
“We’ll take care of each other,” Buffy said firmly and followed Spike down the stairs into the dark basement.
A scratch of a match and the flicker of a candle gave her enough light to follow him into the tunnel system. Natural light filtered in through various vents and gratings in the roads above.
“So you love me then, Slayer,” Spike’s voice hummed with satisfaction.
“You know I do.”
“Only in this world, pet. You said both. As in two. As in here and there. As in – ”
“Enough Asing! Yes, I love you, stupid vampire. In this world and the other. Is that what you wanted me to say?”
He spun round in the narrow passage, black coat flying and pulled her into his arms. His mouth crashed down on hers, then suddenly the passion faded and the kiss became tender, deep and loving. He tried to put into his lips all his brain refused to put into words – that he’d loved her in both Sunnydales, had found her, lost her, found her again. That every atom of his being was tuned to her and if he had to die for her, then he would, gladly, willingly.
When they finally broke for the air she still needed, he ran his fingers up into her hair and wrapped it around his hand. Then he sighed. “I expect you’ll forget when we get home.”
Buffy shook her head, glad of the tugging pain from where the hair was caught between his fingers. “No, I won’t. I don’t think I ever completely forgot. I think that was why I could never commit to Riley all the way. Some part of me remembered we were married and in love.”
Spike growled. “A lot’s happened since then, pet.”
“And a lot’s still to come.” She freed herself gently and tied her hair back with a scrap of ribbon from her jacket pocket. “Nothing changes, Spike. We’ve still got Ben to deal with and the mystical baby.”
“You’re keeping it then?”
Buffy turned her face towards the darkness at the end of the tunnel. She had no idea what awaited them, but at least she knew now that, yes, she was going to keep this Key baby. Like Dawn it was being made from her blood. How could she possibly get rid of it?
But as she followed Spike down the tunnel towards the Hotel, she was possessed by one thought. She’d died to save Dawn and the world. What sacrifice would she make to save her own child?
To be continued
Chp 9 What sacrifice?
Buffy woke to the sound of someone hammering on the front door. Spike’s head was pillowed on her breasts and he grumbled in his sleep as she pushed him to one side. Then she grinned as he rolled off the sofa and fell on the floor.
“That will so teach you to wake up quicker!“ she jeered as the cussing and swearing reached inventive new heights.
She reached the door, checking automatically to make sure that Spike was nowhere near. Daylight flooded in as she opened it. Admittedly it was the dreary grey daylight that she was now used to in this Sunnydale, but still enough to fry her husband.
Outside stood Willow, Tara and Xander: hurrying in, Buffy slammed the door shut behind them. Willow looked awful; pale and ill. Her face was all eyes, her cheekbones pushed through dull skin and there was a defeated air about her. The belligerence she’d shown when she’d first seen Buffy on her return had vanished.
So was this what losing someone you loved so deeply could do to you? Buffy shivered. She tried to imagine what would happen if the other Willow lost Tara. Oh, not just from the silly quarrel they were having at the moment about doing too much magic. But if something dreadful happened and Tara died. Would Willow go to pieces like this? She shook her head. No, that was a silly thought. Nothing was going to happen to Tara.
Xander threw himself into a chair and nodded a greeting at Spike. Buffy smiled inwardly. It still struck her as odd that in this world the two men were friends. But – she wrinkled her nose – even at this early hour she could smell booze on his breath.
“What’s up, Will?” she asked. “Is it Ben?”
The witch nodded, her fingers plucking at a loose thread on her sweater. “Something weird’s happening, Buffy. Early this morning, all the zombie people in town started walking towards the hotel. They’re moaning and muttering more than usual. It’s almost as if they’re being drawn to him.”
“We felt you and Spike ought to know,” Tara added.
“I can feel the power building,” Willow whispered, her eyes darkening. “I can‘t fight it, but I can feel it. He’s pulling it in from the air, from the ground, from these poor people. Buffy, I don’t know what he‘s planning, but believe me, it’s going to happen very soon.”
Buffy shuddered. She ran her hand lightly over her stomach, aware that Spike was watching her. What Ben was after, what he needed to put his plan into action was right here in this room, inside her. The blood of the mystical baby she was carrying would open the portal to the devil dimension that Ben longed for.
It all came rushing back to her – the choice she had to make. She could go back though the portal with Spike; leave this Sunnydale to its own devices. Ben would carry on with his evil domination but at least the world would be safe and untold horrors would not arrive to take over the earth.
Or she could stay here, get rid of the baby and fight Ben. Find some way of defeating him. She’d done it once. But the last time you did it, you had to die, a little voice whispered in her head. Are you prepared to do that again?
She was aware of Spike pulling on his boots, gazing up at her from under frowning dark brows. Things were complicated here by their relationship. Before, when she’d been forced to jump off the tower to save Dawn, she and Spike hadn’t been together.
Now – well, now he was her husband and as such had said he wouldn’t let her sacrifice herself a second time. Of course, being the Slayer, he couldn’t physically stop her, but –
“So Buffy, what are you going to do?” Xander’s voice was thick with fear. “Are you going to help us?”
“Did you find out anything from Willie?” Tara asked. “You were heading there when we last saw you.”
“I don’t think Buffy’s interested,” Willow said suddenly, gazing at her friend’s pale, tense face. “You want to go back, don’t you?” She sounded angry and her hands clenched into fists. “You’re going to leave us to Ben and his cronies. My Oz died for nothing! You don’t care, do you? Admit it? You don’t care at all!”
“Red!” Spike’s voice cracked like a whip but Buffy held out a hand to stop him as he strode forward.
“It’s OK. Will, I’m not going anywhere until this has been dealt with.” She was suddenly calm. She hadn’t even known what she was going to say before she said it, but of course, in the long run whatever she wanted to do, she had a responsibility to this world, just as much as she had to the other.
She was the Slayer. It wasn’t that difficult to do the math. Slayer equals mission equals putting your life before everyone else, no matter what you personally want.
“Buffy?” Spike reached out to touch her and for an instant she linked her fingers with his, then gently pulled away.
“We need to get back to the hotel,” she said briskly. “Will, I know this sounds stupid, but have they started building anything in town – like –? ”
“Like a soddin’ great rickety tower!” Spike put in.
Willow frowned, looked at the others and then shook her head. “No. Nothing like that. Is that what happens next? What’s it for?”
Buffy shrugged. God she needed a cup of coffee but – she flinched - even if there had been power, caffeine and babies were very non-mixy things in any universe. “Hopefully, you’ll never need to know.”
“Do you want us to come with?” Xander asked.
Buffy hesitated. Xander in the other world wouldn’t have asked. He’d have accepted he was going until told otherwise. Then he’d have complained bitterly at being sidelined. This Xander didn’t want to tackle Ben. That was so obvious. She felt a wave of pity flood over her and wished there was some way she could show one of her dearest friends that he could lead a great life without looking at it through the bottom of a bottle.
She glanced round at Willow and Tara. There was no way either was fit to take on Ben or his minions in a fight. The red head looked as if every ounce of strength had been drained out of her and Tara just seemed bewildered.
“No, me and Spike’ll cope. If we need reinforcements we know where to come. Will, I hate to ask, but if you could concentrate on over-riding the control Ben has over the power lines, that would help. Keep some of his mind occupied elsewhere.”
Willow nodded. “I’ll try. It’s either that or the water.” Then she tugged her friend to one side. “Buffy, I’m sorry! I’ve been so horrible to you since you got back.”
Buffy ran her fingers through her hair, longing to wash it and knowing there was no way. “Don’t worry. No biggie. You’ve had a lot to deal with.”
“But I haven’t been dealing, that’s the point! No dealing! Oz dying like that, so pointlessly, being brave, being stupid. I told him -!” She stopped as the memories crowded down on top of her. “All I could think of when you came back was that somewhere, in your other world, Oz is still alive. And that Willow, doesn’t even want him, does she?”
“How did you –?” Buffy stopped, wincing at the pain in her friends eyes, knowing that somehow she’d magiced herself to the other universe to see “Will, that’s there. OK, the people look the same, but you’re not. You’re all different. You might not even have loved the Oz in that world.”
“You and Spike aren’t different.”
“But we don’t exist in both Sunnydales,” Buffy explained. “We can only live in one world at a time. I don’t know why. The other Willow’s spell that made the portal in the first place must have something to do with it.”
The redhead sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “You’re lucky, then. I can tell you it’s major weird knowing that there’s another Willow who doesn’t want her Oz.”
She glanced at Buffy, her eyes sharper for a minute. “Are you and Spike the same in that world? Married and all?”
Buffy shook her head. “No, we’re not – together. Things are different.”
“But you still love each other, right?”
There was a long pause. Buffy stared across the room to where the blond vampire and Xander were sitting, talking quietly together. She wondered what they were discussing. It looked like a normal conversation between two guys who were friends.
Spike was smiling; that smile that was no more that a twitch of his lips and a raise of his eyebrows. But it made his face softer, happier.
“Yes, we love each other,” Buffy whispered and knew, with absolute certainty that what she had just said was the truth. She loved him in both worlds and now she’d admitted it, even to herself.
Spike’s head turned sharply towards her and she felt herself colouring. Vampire hearing! She’d forgotten he could hear a whisper from the other side of the room.
She watched as an expression of pure blazing joy spread over his face. Someone given a glimpse of heaven couldn’t have looked happier. He swung towards her, eyes glinting. “Right, pet. Off to save the world again, are we?”
A single look flashed between them – a question asked and answered – and then she nodded. “OK, sounds like a plan. We’ll have to go through the tunnels, Spike. Can’t afford to watch you doing your famous impersonation of a piece of toast!”
“We’ll go home,” Tara said. “Take care, Buffy. And listen – take care now you’re – ” she stopped, hesitating, puzzled. Buffy was glaring at her; almost as if she was terrified she was going to say more.
“We’ll take care of each other,” Buffy said firmly and followed Spike down the stairs into the dark basement.
A scratch of a match and the flicker of a candle gave her enough light to follow him into the tunnel system. Natural light filtered in through various vents and gratings in the roads above.
“So you love me then, Slayer,” Spike’s voice hummed with satisfaction.
“You know I do.”
“Only in this world, pet. You said both. As in two. As in here and there. As in – ”
“Enough Asing! Yes, I love you, stupid vampire. In this world and the other. Is that what you wanted me to say?”
He spun round in the narrow passage, black coat flying and pulled her into his arms. His mouth crashed down on hers, then suddenly the passion faded and the kiss became tender, deep and loving. He tried to put into his lips all his brain refused to put into words – that he’d loved her in both Sunnydales, had found her, lost her, found her again. That every atom of his being was tuned to her and if he had to die for her, then he would, gladly, willingly.
When they finally broke for the air she still needed, he ran his fingers up into her hair and wrapped it around his hand. Then he sighed. “I expect you’ll forget when we get home.”
Buffy shook her head, glad of the tugging pain from where the hair was caught between his fingers. “No, I won’t. I don’t think I ever completely forgot. I think that was why I could never commit to Riley all the way. Some part of me remembered we were married and in love.”
Spike growled. “A lot’s happened since then, pet.”
“And a lot’s still to come.” She freed herself gently and tied her hair back with a scrap of ribbon from her jacket pocket. “Nothing changes, Spike. We’ve still got Ben to deal with and the mystical baby.”
“You’re keeping it then?”
Buffy turned her face towards the darkness at the end of the tunnel. She had no idea what awaited them, but at least she knew now that, yes, she was going to keep this Key baby. Like Dawn it was being made from her blood. How could she possibly get rid of it?
But as she followed Spike down the tunnel towards the Hotel, she was possessed by one thought. She’d died to save Dawn and the world. What sacrifice would she make to save her own child?
To be continued
Chp 10 The First Row
Something to Sing About by Lilachigh
Chp 10 The First Row
The tunnel ended abruptly and only Spike’s outflung hand stopped Buffy from walking into a stone wall. “Mind junior,” he said, his smile a flash of white in the gloom. “Don’t go bumping him.”
She couldn’t reply. The baby she was carrying was still just an idea, not a real person. How could it be? Glowing green energy was probably floating around inside her at this very minute, forming itself into a key child. Boy or girl? She voted for girl. Another Dawn, that seemed fairly obvious. Although hopefully not quite as irritating.
‘And you’ll love her just as much,’ a voice in her head said quietly, fiercely.
“Spike, you do realise I’ve got to fight Ben to the death,” she said, suddenly wondering exactly where this protective manner could lead. “It’s going to be hard enough as it is without you leaping in front of me every few seconds to check that I’m OK.”
There was a long silence. She couldn’t see the vampire’s expression in the dark of the tunnel but suddenly the air seemed cold and heavy between them.
“I’ve always got your back, pet,” he said softly at last. “In this world and the other.”
She took a deep breath. “I know and I appreciate it. But I can’t fight well if I feel you’re going to be all over-protective guy.”
His response was fast and angry. “I love you, Slayer. That includes the baby you’re carrying. I can’t help that. I won’t get in your way, but I bloody well won’t allow you get beaten up or killed if I can possibly help it. You’re my wife. You can’t expect me to stand back and let that happen.”
Buffy sighed and wearily eased her shoulders, wriggling to relieve the tension that held them in iron bands. Why wouldn’t he understand? This wasn’t about him or them or the baby; this was about killing Ben without getting slaughtered in return.
“Of course I want you to guard my back,” she said. “You’ve always been the best fighting machine I’ve ever known. I trust you not to get yourself killed. I let you do your own thing, and you know I’ll do mine.”
She turned away to push at a small wooden door that she hoped led into the basement of the Hotel California. But a grasp like iron on her arm stopped her. “Wait a minute, pet. Let’s get this straight once and for all.”
Buffy sighed. “Spike, this isn’t the time or place for discussions about who needs to look after who. Let’s just get on with killing Ben and bringing this Sunnydale back to normality.”
The grip didn’t loosen. “No, stop running away from me, Buffy. This is more than you getting your knickers in a twist about fighting. Stop making excuses for not dealing with the situation between us. Ben will wait for ten minutes. Bloody hell, I don’t expect he’s going to end the world before lunch!”
“He might.” And she had to admit to herself that her remark sounded childish!
“Well, let’s give him the benefit of the doubt, shall we?” Spike’s voice was at its silky English best. Buffy groaned to herself. Her mate could outdo Giles for slippery sarcasm when it suited him.
“Back there, you told me you loved me,” he went on, his fingers leaving her arm to explore gently across her cheek. “You know I love you. That makes it a partnership now, Slayer, not just Spike being love‘s bitch all over again. A partnership as in soddin’ well equal in the caring and sharing. Every time we get close, you back off, mentally, physically, emotionally. I can feel you slipping away again, pet. And I don’t understand why. So this time, just tell me!”
For a long second she stood there, lulled by the gentle pressure of his cool fingers on her hot skin. How easy it would be to give in to that persuasive argument that they were equals, that they could go off to fight Ben, save this Sunnydale together. But they weren’t equal. At the end of the day, every day, forever, she was the Slayer and Spike was a vampire.
Oh yes, the most brilliant, savage fighter she’d ever come across, but still a vampire and an opponent would only need, in Spike’s own words, ‘one good day’ to drive a stake through his heart or push him into an innocuous patch of sunlight and he’d be dust.
Where would her protection be then if she relied on him? Buffy had learnt the hard way that she must rely on herself first and foremost. “I’m the Slayer – ” she began.
“Fucking hell!” His savage words were made worse by being said softly, the intensity sounding painful in the cool dark tunnel. “If I had five quid for every time I’ve heard that, I’d retire and go and live in Hawaii!”
“Don’t be silly, too much sunlight,” Buffy said automatically.
“Agreed! Bloody silly, which is what starting your explanation with the words, ‘I’m the Slayer – ’ is as well. I know you’re the Slayer. I’ve lived with that knowledge for years now. I know about the sodding mission, the prophecies, that you’re stronger than me – just. But you’re still a human being, Buffy. Why do we have to have this stupid rigmarole about being the Slayer every time you want to slide away from commitment in some shape or form? It’s just an excuse.”
“Stop it!” Buffy swung her hand to smack him on the nose, but in the dark his vision was better than hers and he caught her fist in mid swing.
“It isn’t an excuse, Spike,” she hissed, feeling her own temper rising. How dare he get all righteous about her behaviour? “Being the Slayer colours every single thing I do. I thought you of all people might understand, but no, you’re like so many guys, everything has to be about them!”
This time the silence was more than icy; it was as frozen as the Arctic. Spike dropped her fist and Buffy sensed, rather than saw, him plunge his hands into his duster pockets.
She was desperate to take back those last words; she didn’t even mean them. He wasn’t like other guys. She knew that. She’d just wanted to hurt him and she didn’t even know why, except that there was no one else in the whole world she could hurt quite so badly and still be certain deep down that his love would never alter.
But – and the beginning of a quiver began to run across her nerve endings – perhaps this time she would discover that his love did have its limits. Because earlier she’d told him what he’d longer to hear, that she loved him and now, only minutes later she’d stamped on their bright, shiny, wobbly fledgling relationship, smashing it to pieces.
But when Spike spoke, there was the faintest hint of resigned amusement in his voice. “You still don’t trust me, do you, sweetheart? After all we’ve been through.”
“I love you.” The whisper cut him like a blade. He could see his girl, standing there in front of him, arms crossed, chin tilted, fighting the world and fighting herself most of all. He would never tell her how much she’d hurt him in the last few minutes, then realised that she didn’t need to be told, she knew. And that was sadder still.
“Did you trust Angel?” He hadn’t meant to say that, but the words were out of his mouth before he could catch them and shut them up somewhere safe.
Buffy winced then her expression changed and he could see the irritation begin to build. “Oh this is great! Not only am I waiting to go kill some hellgoddish creature – again! – and, hey, save this Sunnydale from destruction, hopefully without having to sacrifice myself but I’m pregnant with some green energy baby and you want to whimper on about my ex! OK, yes, I trusted Angel – sometimes. How about you and Miss Loony Tunes? Did you trust Dru?”
“Never. Not for a second of all the years we were together.”
Buffy fought back the wave of jealousy that swept over her at the thought of Dru having her husband for all that time. “But you loved her. You see, Spike. The two don’t always go hand in hand.”
“So you trusted Angel but you don’t trust me.” Spike felt himself vamp in and out of game face. “What do you think I’m going to do, Buffy? We’re already married, so I can’t very well leave you at the altar. Or is it simpler than that. You don’t trust me not to get in your way, is that it?”
Buffy’s temper was now a distant dot on the horizon and vanishing fast. How could she love this man and want to hit him so much? “Geez, Spike, isn’t it great that now I’ve told you I love you, you decide that isn’t good enough. It’s all about trust now. What do you want from me? ”
“What makes God Almighty Liam so trustworthy then?” Spike knew he was falling deeper and deeper into a morass of misunderstanding but couldn’t seem to stop himself. The thought that his golden girl, his wife, could trust that brooding wanking tosser sent him falling, helter-skelter into a burning rage. “As far as I can see, he walked out on you in our first Sunnydale and Xander staked him in this one. But if you think he’s so trustworthy, then fine. Just a pity he’s dead. You’d probably prefer him to help you bring up your nice new shiny Key!”
“Yes, I probably would!” Buffy snapped furiously, her nails digging into her palms so hard that little blood spots formed and Spike’s eyes flared back to gold. “At least he’d have the sense to let me get on with killing Ben instead of standing here arguing about trust!”
Spike yanked the wooden door open with a vicious jerk and sarcastically gestured to her to go through. “Don’t let me stop you, Slayer! Be my guest. Go and kill Ben. I’ll try not to get under your precious feet. ”
Buffy pushed past him, shuddering as the leather coat brushed against her bare arm. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so angry. And underneath the anger she was bewildered. Only minutes ago they‘d been locked in each other’s arms, exchanging a kiss of love and passion and desire. Now she couldn’t think fast enough to find the words to hurt him.
She slammed the door shut behind her and didn’t hear the lock click into place. She’d only taken another couple of steps when a group of hooded figures stepped out menacingly in front of her and began to close in.
To be continued
Chp 10 The First Row
The tunnel ended abruptly and only Spike’s outflung hand stopped Buffy from walking into a stone wall. “Mind junior,” he said, his smile a flash of white in the gloom. “Don’t go bumping him.”
She couldn’t reply. The baby she was carrying was still just an idea, not a real person. How could it be? Glowing green energy was probably floating around inside her at this very minute, forming itself into a key child. Boy or girl? She voted for girl. Another Dawn, that seemed fairly obvious. Although hopefully not quite as irritating.
‘And you’ll love her just as much,’ a voice in her head said quietly, fiercely.
“Spike, you do realise I’ve got to fight Ben to the death,” she said, suddenly wondering exactly where this protective manner could lead. “It’s going to be hard enough as it is without you leaping in front of me every few seconds to check that I’m OK.”
There was a long silence. She couldn’t see the vampire’s expression in the dark of the tunnel but suddenly the air seemed cold and heavy between them.
“I’ve always got your back, pet,” he said softly at last. “In this world and the other.”
She took a deep breath. “I know and I appreciate it. But I can’t fight well if I feel you’re going to be all over-protective guy.”
His response was fast and angry. “I love you, Slayer. That includes the baby you’re carrying. I can’t help that. I won’t get in your way, but I bloody well won’t allow you get beaten up or killed if I can possibly help it. You’re my wife. You can’t expect me to stand back and let that happen.”
Buffy sighed and wearily eased her shoulders, wriggling to relieve the tension that held them in iron bands. Why wouldn’t he understand? This wasn’t about him or them or the baby; this was about killing Ben without getting slaughtered in return.
“Of course I want you to guard my back,” she said. “You’ve always been the best fighting machine I’ve ever known. I trust you not to get yourself killed. I let you do your own thing, and you know I’ll do mine.”
She turned away to push at a small wooden door that she hoped led into the basement of the Hotel California. But a grasp like iron on her arm stopped her. “Wait a minute, pet. Let’s get this straight once and for all.”
Buffy sighed. “Spike, this isn’t the time or place for discussions about who needs to look after who. Let’s just get on with killing Ben and bringing this Sunnydale back to normality.”
The grip didn’t loosen. “No, stop running away from me, Buffy. This is more than you getting your knickers in a twist about fighting. Stop making excuses for not dealing with the situation between us. Ben will wait for ten minutes. Bloody hell, I don’t expect he’s going to end the world before lunch!”
“He might.” And she had to admit to herself that her remark sounded childish!
“Well, let’s give him the benefit of the doubt, shall we?” Spike’s voice was at its silky English best. Buffy groaned to herself. Her mate could outdo Giles for slippery sarcasm when it suited him.
“Back there, you told me you loved me,” he went on, his fingers leaving her arm to explore gently across her cheek. “You know I love you. That makes it a partnership now, Slayer, not just Spike being love‘s bitch all over again. A partnership as in soddin’ well equal in the caring and sharing. Every time we get close, you back off, mentally, physically, emotionally. I can feel you slipping away again, pet. And I don’t understand why. So this time, just tell me!”
For a long second she stood there, lulled by the gentle pressure of his cool fingers on her hot skin. How easy it would be to give in to that persuasive argument that they were equals, that they could go off to fight Ben, save this Sunnydale together. But they weren’t equal. At the end of the day, every day, forever, she was the Slayer and Spike was a vampire.
Oh yes, the most brilliant, savage fighter she’d ever come across, but still a vampire and an opponent would only need, in Spike’s own words, ‘one good day’ to drive a stake through his heart or push him into an innocuous patch of sunlight and he’d be dust.
Where would her protection be then if she relied on him? Buffy had learnt the hard way that she must rely on herself first and foremost. “I’m the Slayer – ” she began.
“Fucking hell!” His savage words were made worse by being said softly, the intensity sounding painful in the cool dark tunnel. “If I had five quid for every time I’ve heard that, I’d retire and go and live in Hawaii!”
“Don’t be silly, too much sunlight,” Buffy said automatically.
“Agreed! Bloody silly, which is what starting your explanation with the words, ‘I’m the Slayer – ’ is as well. I know you’re the Slayer. I’ve lived with that knowledge for years now. I know about the sodding mission, the prophecies, that you’re stronger than me – just. But you’re still a human being, Buffy. Why do we have to have this stupid rigmarole about being the Slayer every time you want to slide away from commitment in some shape or form? It’s just an excuse.”
“Stop it!” Buffy swung her hand to smack him on the nose, but in the dark his vision was better than hers and he caught her fist in mid swing.
“It isn’t an excuse, Spike,” she hissed, feeling her own temper rising. How dare he get all righteous about her behaviour? “Being the Slayer colours every single thing I do. I thought you of all people might understand, but no, you’re like so many guys, everything has to be about them!”
This time the silence was more than icy; it was as frozen as the Arctic. Spike dropped her fist and Buffy sensed, rather than saw, him plunge his hands into his duster pockets.
She was desperate to take back those last words; she didn’t even mean them. He wasn’t like other guys. She knew that. She’d just wanted to hurt him and she didn’t even know why, except that there was no one else in the whole world she could hurt quite so badly and still be certain deep down that his love would never alter.
But – and the beginning of a quiver began to run across her nerve endings – perhaps this time she would discover that his love did have its limits. Because earlier she’d told him what he’d longer to hear, that she loved him and now, only minutes later she’d stamped on their bright, shiny, wobbly fledgling relationship, smashing it to pieces.
But when Spike spoke, there was the faintest hint of resigned amusement in his voice. “You still don’t trust me, do you, sweetheart? After all we’ve been through.”
“I love you.” The whisper cut him like a blade. He could see his girl, standing there in front of him, arms crossed, chin tilted, fighting the world and fighting herself most of all. He would never tell her how much she’d hurt him in the last few minutes, then realised that she didn’t need to be told, she knew. And that was sadder still.
“Did you trust Angel?” He hadn’t meant to say that, but the words were out of his mouth before he could catch them and shut them up somewhere safe.
Buffy winced then her expression changed and he could see the irritation begin to build. “Oh this is great! Not only am I waiting to go kill some hellgoddish creature – again! – and, hey, save this Sunnydale from destruction, hopefully without having to sacrifice myself but I’m pregnant with some green energy baby and you want to whimper on about my ex! OK, yes, I trusted Angel – sometimes. How about you and Miss Loony Tunes? Did you trust Dru?”
“Never. Not for a second of all the years we were together.”
Buffy fought back the wave of jealousy that swept over her at the thought of Dru having her husband for all that time. “But you loved her. You see, Spike. The two don’t always go hand in hand.”
“So you trusted Angel but you don’t trust me.” Spike felt himself vamp in and out of game face. “What do you think I’m going to do, Buffy? We’re already married, so I can’t very well leave you at the altar. Or is it simpler than that. You don’t trust me not to get in your way, is that it?”
Buffy’s temper was now a distant dot on the horizon and vanishing fast. How could she love this man and want to hit him so much? “Geez, Spike, isn’t it great that now I’ve told you I love you, you decide that isn’t good enough. It’s all about trust now. What do you want from me? ”
“What makes God Almighty Liam so trustworthy then?” Spike knew he was falling deeper and deeper into a morass of misunderstanding but couldn’t seem to stop himself. The thought that his golden girl, his wife, could trust that brooding wanking tosser sent him falling, helter-skelter into a burning rage. “As far as I can see, he walked out on you in our first Sunnydale and Xander staked him in this one. But if you think he’s so trustworthy, then fine. Just a pity he’s dead. You’d probably prefer him to help you bring up your nice new shiny Key!”
“Yes, I probably would!” Buffy snapped furiously, her nails digging into her palms so hard that little blood spots formed and Spike’s eyes flared back to gold. “At least he’d have the sense to let me get on with killing Ben instead of standing here arguing about trust!”
Spike yanked the wooden door open with a vicious jerk and sarcastically gestured to her to go through. “Don’t let me stop you, Slayer! Be my guest. Go and kill Ben. I’ll try not to get under your precious feet. ”
Buffy pushed past him, shuddering as the leather coat brushed against her bare arm. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so angry. And underneath the anger she was bewildered. Only minutes ago they‘d been locked in each other’s arms, exchanging a kiss of love and passion and desire. Now she couldn’t think fast enough to find the words to hurt him.
She slammed the door shut behind her and didn’t hear the lock click into place. She’d only taken another couple of steps when a group of hooded figures stepped out menacingly in front of her and began to close in.
To be continued
Chp 11 Alone
SOMETHING TO SING ABOUT
Chp 11 Alone.
Spike stared at the door that clicked shut behind Buffy and kicked it, hard! “Bloody woman!” he yelled. “What does it take to get you to be sensible?”
Then he froze. From the other side of the solid oak came the unmistakeable sounds of a fight and he heard his wife call out, “Spike! Help!”
“Buffy!” he roared and battered at the door, but the lock held fast. “Buffy!”
He flung himself desperately against the wood, pressing his ear to the panels, trying to hear her voice. But there was nothing now but silence.
Buffy had dispatched four of the black hooded figures, yelling to Spike for help, not realising that the door had locked when she slammed it in his face. As her foot broke the neck of the fifth attacker, she realised with a shudder that she was out-numbered and that Spike wasn‘t coming to help.
Then something hit her hard on the side of her head and, as she sank into oblivion, she realised with despair that she had finally driven him away – just when she needed him the most.
She came round fast, blinking awake with Slayer instincts and powers in full flow. She was lying on a dirty wooden floor, staring sideways at several pairs of sandaled feet. Buffy didn’t move a muscle; she didn’t want her captors to know she was conscious. Any little advantage she could get would be needed.
She wasn’t tied up in any way, which was odd. Apart from a thumping headache, she didn’t seem to have been injured at all. That was mega weird. Why hadn’t they finished her off when they had the chance? Then, with a cold shudder she realised that, of course, what they wanted was the baby Key she was carrying. They would do nothing to endanger that.
She strained to hear what was going on. There was a lot of chanting, she could smell smoke and incense, someone was making a speech, but she was too far away to hear the words clearly. One thing she did know it was Ben speaking. All her memories of the young intern came flooding back. How she’d actually liked him before realising, as Spike had done before her, that Ben and Glory were the same person inside different bodies.
She wondered where Ben’s other body was in this reality. Was there a stunningly beautiful girl walking around this Sunnydale, working at the hospital, perhaps, knowing that her body was taken over periodically by a hell god?
Suddenly, before Buffy could move, there was a rush of feet and hands grabbed her arms and jerked her to her feet.
“My great fantasticus, this human is awake,” someone muttered and dragging her forwards, threw her down again on the floor.
A foot, shod in a shiny red trainer, reached out and kicked her in the ribs. She tried not to wince, rolled over and got to her feet, shaking off the hands holding her for a second, until two more pairs grabbed her and held her fast.
“Cute shoes, Ben. Reminds me of Dorothy from Oz. Why don’t you click the heels and vanish back to your own stinky hell dimension?”
Draped in heavily decorated robes, Ben lounged back in a huge, carved chair, a cruel smile creasing his pleasant, good-looking face. “You’re a Slayer, aren’t you? How amusing.”
“Oh, I’m full of jokes. It’ll be really funny when I kill you.”
The red shod foot lashed out again, but Buffy dodged, swearing under her breath. That last kick had been aimed at her stomach. If Ben wasn’t careful, there wouldn’t be any baby Key to unlock his way home.
“So you think you are capable of killing me?”
Buffy hesitated. It was tempting to say she had defeated him before, but she didn’t want to give anything away. “You don’t belong in this world. And I’m not going to let you destroy it.”
“Slayers. So predictable.” Ben yawned. “Well, nice as it would be to sit and chat, I have a very urgent meeting to arrange. I am going home!” He clicked his fingers and the grip around her arms tightened. “Secure her somewhere – ” he smiled and for a second or two his eyes glowed – “somewhere she can see what’s going on! Anticipation is always half the fun in these affairs and, as the Slayer has already said, she enjoys a good laugh.”
Buffy was dragged back across the great hall. She managed to send one of her captors flying but another two took his place. Struggling, she was chained to the wall, her hands high above her head.
As she watched, the minions carried in a long trestle table, covered with a snowy white cloth, heavily embroidered in gold silk. It would have looked lovely, except for the thick leather straps attached to each side. Obviously something – or, she was under no illusions – someone, someone whose name was Buffy – was about to be strapped to it.
More flaming torches and scones of candles were marched in. More chanting and dancing; the black hooded demons were working themselves up into a frenzy of bloodlust.
Buffy tugged at the chains and grinned silently as she felt one of them move slightly in the stone wall. The rivets holding the ring were set in something that was crumbling a little every time she tugged on it. If she could just get one hand free, then perhaps –
“Hurry you fools! Daylight will be breaking soon! I want to get the ceremony started just as the sun comes up. Then the denizens of this blighted world will be able to see exactly what is coming for them! I wouldn’t want them to miss a second of the death and bloodshed. So hurry! The Slayer awaits. Or some of you will be the first course before the main meal of the day!” Ben leapt up from his chair and strode up and down the vast hall, lashing out at his followers with words and fists.
And if it was nearly daylight, that meant she must have been unconscious for far longer than she had thought. So where was Spike?
Buffy tugged at the chains again, cursing under her breath. How could she have been so stubborn, so bone stupid as to have told him she could manage without him? She’d turned her back on him, told him she’d trusted Angel, that she was the Slayer and needed to do her own thing. Why? Of course she trusted him. Even now, with all that had happened, she was waiting, looking, expecting him to help her.
If that wasn’t trust, what was? Why didn’t she believe that he’d gone back to the other Sunnydale through the portal? It would have been the obvious thing for him to have done. But she knew he hadn’t. Knew, without a doubt, that he was somewhere, trying, fighting….
“Slayer!”
“Spike!” Buffy stared round wildly. She could have sworn she’d heard him speak her name, but there was no one there. Maybe she was going mad. So much had happened to her recently that she wouldn’t have been at all surprised.
“I didn’t know you wanted to be chained up, pet. You should have told me. Always pleased to oblige a lady with her sexual fantasies!”
“Spike!” Buffy hissed. “Where the hell are you?”
“Just look to your right, sweetheart. No, slowly, don’t make it so bloody obvious. See where that curtain is hanging crooked against the wall, just the other side of where the ring for the chain is set in the stone.”
“Yes.”
“Behind it there’s a window. I’m standing on a sodding ledge, half way up the outside wall, hanging on by my nails and balls. I can just see you through the space between the curtain and the wall.”
“Well, crawl in. Join the fun.”
“Bit difficult to do, pet. There’s a ruddy great iron bar across the window. I could bend it back if I was standing on the ground, but not while I’m perched on this ledge like a bloody canary!”
Buffy bit her lip. “Spike, I’m sorry – ”
“Frigging hell, Slayer! Don’t start apologizing without giving me some warning first. Almost fell off.” His voice changed, became softer, warmer. “There’s no need to say sorry, pet. You’re my wife in this Sunnydale. We’re allowed to have rows. It’s part of being married.”
“I said I didn’t trust you. I was lying. I just wanted to hurt you.”
“Why?’
Buffy stopped tugging at the chains. It was odd just talking to a voice, but in a strange way it was also easier than having those brilliant blue eyes staring into hers. “Because – because I love you and I think I know deep down that however much I hurt you, it won’t make any difference, you’ll still be on my side.” There was a silence and she went on, “Are you still there? Does that make any sense?”
“Sure. I know how you think. I shouldn’t have lost my temper but you offered the bait and I took it. I snapped, you yelled, slammed the door and bam, here we are, but still alive, still talking – ”
“ – and still no closer to killing Ben,” Buffy finished, feeling her heart lift.
“Of course, if you still want to do it all on your own, I’m quite happy to go home,” Spike teased.
Buffy shut her eyes briefly. Being the Slayer gave her all sorts of benefits, skills and talents. Being wise wasn’t one of them.
Suddenly the chanting and singing stopped. Buffy’s eyes flashed open and she gazed across the wide expanse of the hall. There was a lot of movement in a far doorway. The hooded demons were lining up, forming a passageway from the door to the table with the leather straps – a passageway for someone to pass along.
The chanting began again, but this time it was just two notes, one deep, the next high, on and on and on. And as they chanted, they stamped on the floor, a slow and menacing sound.
“What’s going on, pet?” Spike’s voice was urgent.
She tugged violently at the chains and felt the bolt ring move again. “Don’t know. But it won’t be good for me and Baby Key, that’s for sure.”
“Hate to add to your problems, sweetheart, but we’ve got another little difficulty to cope with.”
“What?”
“Daylight’s coming and I’m stuck up a wall facing the sun.”
“Go back down!” Buffy yelled, then froze as the demon closest to her, turned his black hooded head and she saw two red yes gleaming at her.
She screamed and struggled and he turned away, obviously convinced that she was fighting for her life.
“Buffy!”
“It’s OK. I’m OK. Don’t panic. I was just doing my King Kong heroine act. Look, Spike, get under cover. Find another way in here. Just don’t die on me.”
She tried to sound callous and cheerful, but her voice broke at the end. Oh God, if she lost him. What would she do? How could she go on without him?
“Stay where you are, pet. I’ll find another way.” There was a scrabbling noise, then silence.
Buffy blinked back the tears. Even the sound of his voice had given her hope. But at least he wasn’t sizzling to dust – something would be saved from this awful place and –
“Eeeek!” The exclamation broke from her lips as the curtain next to her swung open and her husband stood there, smiling. “Spike! You said you couldn’t get in the window! You said there was a bar. You lied!”
“What can I say, pet? Still evil,” he purred and with one swift step was at her side, putting his weight on the chain holding her to the wall. “Thought I’d just make sure I was welcome before I arrived on the scene. You might have had another plan.”
He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth as the ringbolt came out of the wall with a screech. Buffy glared at him in loving exasperation, then hastily pulled the other chain free. “We’ll talk about this later. We’ve got a hell-god to kill.”
Spike felt a wave of pleasure engulf him. “Like the sound of ‘we‘ve’, a lot.” He stared across the room at the demons. “Where is our Mr Ben, then? Getting ready to make a grand entrance, I suppose. God, I hate all these dramatics. Why didn’t he just kill you when he had the chance? Not that I’m complaining, mind! Just that all this show and flummery reminds me too much of my grand-sire, your dear departed ex.”
Buffy pushed him back into the shadows. “He’ll be here. He told me he was going home. That means one thing. He’ll try and take Baby Key for its blood.”
Spike vamped out for a second, and then shook himself back into human face. “Like to see him try,” he growled, then hesitated before saying, “Slayer, this is a bloody odd set-up. Why haven’t they attacked us? You’d think if he was so obsessed with the baby, he’d have put a couple of guards on you all the time, chained up or not. And they must have seen me by now.”
Buffy frowned and winced as she forced the metal cuffs off her wrists. “Well, he knew I couldn’t escape – what with being all chained up, you know!” Then a slow understanding began to creep over her. “Hey, you’re right. No one’s looked in this direction for ages. It’s as if they don’t care what happens to me. They’re all far too interested – ”
“In who’s coming through that door,” Spike broke in and jabbed a finger towards the chanting crowd lining the route to the table set out in front of Ben’s carved throne.
And as she looked, Buffy suddenly realised with a cold rush of horror, how wrong she had been about everything. She wasn’t pregnant; she wasn’t carrying the Key Baby for Ben to kill! Because being dragged screaming and cursing into the room by the black hooded demons, was a beautiful girl, black haired, dark-eyed. She was wearing a long, white robe, embroidered with gold that matched the linen covering on the table.
Her feet were bare and she was fighting every inch of the way - but it was no contest because although she was a Slayer, Faith was also heavily pregnant.
To be continued.
Chp 11 Alone.
Spike stared at the door that clicked shut behind Buffy and kicked it, hard! “Bloody woman!” he yelled. “What does it take to get you to be sensible?”
Then he froze. From the other side of the solid oak came the unmistakeable sounds of a fight and he heard his wife call out, “Spike! Help!”
“Buffy!” he roared and battered at the door, but the lock held fast. “Buffy!”
He flung himself desperately against the wood, pressing his ear to the panels, trying to hear her voice. But there was nothing now but silence.
Buffy had dispatched four of the black hooded figures, yelling to Spike for help, not realising that the door had locked when she slammed it in his face. As her foot broke the neck of the fifth attacker, she realised with a shudder that she was out-numbered and that Spike wasn‘t coming to help.
Then something hit her hard on the side of her head and, as she sank into oblivion, she realised with despair that she had finally driven him away – just when she needed him the most.
She came round fast, blinking awake with Slayer instincts and powers in full flow. She was lying on a dirty wooden floor, staring sideways at several pairs of sandaled feet. Buffy didn’t move a muscle; she didn’t want her captors to know she was conscious. Any little advantage she could get would be needed.
She wasn’t tied up in any way, which was odd. Apart from a thumping headache, she didn’t seem to have been injured at all. That was mega weird. Why hadn’t they finished her off when they had the chance? Then, with a cold shudder she realised that, of course, what they wanted was the baby Key she was carrying. They would do nothing to endanger that.
She strained to hear what was going on. There was a lot of chanting, she could smell smoke and incense, someone was making a speech, but she was too far away to hear the words clearly. One thing she did know it was Ben speaking. All her memories of the young intern came flooding back. How she’d actually liked him before realising, as Spike had done before her, that Ben and Glory were the same person inside different bodies.
She wondered where Ben’s other body was in this reality. Was there a stunningly beautiful girl walking around this Sunnydale, working at the hospital, perhaps, knowing that her body was taken over periodically by a hell god?
Suddenly, before Buffy could move, there was a rush of feet and hands grabbed her arms and jerked her to her feet.
“My great fantasticus, this human is awake,” someone muttered and dragging her forwards, threw her down again on the floor.
A foot, shod in a shiny red trainer, reached out and kicked her in the ribs. She tried not to wince, rolled over and got to her feet, shaking off the hands holding her for a second, until two more pairs grabbed her and held her fast.
“Cute shoes, Ben. Reminds me of Dorothy from Oz. Why don’t you click the heels and vanish back to your own stinky hell dimension?”
Draped in heavily decorated robes, Ben lounged back in a huge, carved chair, a cruel smile creasing his pleasant, good-looking face. “You’re a Slayer, aren’t you? How amusing.”
“Oh, I’m full of jokes. It’ll be really funny when I kill you.”
The red shod foot lashed out again, but Buffy dodged, swearing under her breath. That last kick had been aimed at her stomach. If Ben wasn’t careful, there wouldn’t be any baby Key to unlock his way home.
“So you think you are capable of killing me?”
Buffy hesitated. It was tempting to say she had defeated him before, but she didn’t want to give anything away. “You don’t belong in this world. And I’m not going to let you destroy it.”
“Slayers. So predictable.” Ben yawned. “Well, nice as it would be to sit and chat, I have a very urgent meeting to arrange. I am going home!” He clicked his fingers and the grip around her arms tightened. “Secure her somewhere – ” he smiled and for a second or two his eyes glowed – “somewhere she can see what’s going on! Anticipation is always half the fun in these affairs and, as the Slayer has already said, she enjoys a good laugh.”
Buffy was dragged back across the great hall. She managed to send one of her captors flying but another two took his place. Struggling, she was chained to the wall, her hands high above her head.
As she watched, the minions carried in a long trestle table, covered with a snowy white cloth, heavily embroidered in gold silk. It would have looked lovely, except for the thick leather straps attached to each side. Obviously something – or, she was under no illusions – someone, someone whose name was Buffy – was about to be strapped to it.
More flaming torches and scones of candles were marched in. More chanting and dancing; the black hooded demons were working themselves up into a frenzy of bloodlust.
Buffy tugged at the chains and grinned silently as she felt one of them move slightly in the stone wall. The rivets holding the ring were set in something that was crumbling a little every time she tugged on it. If she could just get one hand free, then perhaps –
“Hurry you fools! Daylight will be breaking soon! I want to get the ceremony started just as the sun comes up. Then the denizens of this blighted world will be able to see exactly what is coming for them! I wouldn’t want them to miss a second of the death and bloodshed. So hurry! The Slayer awaits. Or some of you will be the first course before the main meal of the day!” Ben leapt up from his chair and strode up and down the vast hall, lashing out at his followers with words and fists.
And if it was nearly daylight, that meant she must have been unconscious for far longer than she had thought. So where was Spike?
Buffy tugged at the chains again, cursing under her breath. How could she have been so stubborn, so bone stupid as to have told him she could manage without him? She’d turned her back on him, told him she’d trusted Angel, that she was the Slayer and needed to do her own thing. Why? Of course she trusted him. Even now, with all that had happened, she was waiting, looking, expecting him to help her.
If that wasn’t trust, what was? Why didn’t she believe that he’d gone back to the other Sunnydale through the portal? It would have been the obvious thing for him to have done. But she knew he hadn’t. Knew, without a doubt, that he was somewhere, trying, fighting….
“Slayer!”
“Spike!” Buffy stared round wildly. She could have sworn she’d heard him speak her name, but there was no one there. Maybe she was going mad. So much had happened to her recently that she wouldn’t have been at all surprised.
“I didn’t know you wanted to be chained up, pet. You should have told me. Always pleased to oblige a lady with her sexual fantasies!”
“Spike!” Buffy hissed. “Where the hell are you?”
“Just look to your right, sweetheart. No, slowly, don’t make it so bloody obvious. See where that curtain is hanging crooked against the wall, just the other side of where the ring for the chain is set in the stone.”
“Yes.”
“Behind it there’s a window. I’m standing on a sodding ledge, half way up the outside wall, hanging on by my nails and balls. I can just see you through the space between the curtain and the wall.”
“Well, crawl in. Join the fun.”
“Bit difficult to do, pet. There’s a ruddy great iron bar across the window. I could bend it back if I was standing on the ground, but not while I’m perched on this ledge like a bloody canary!”
Buffy bit her lip. “Spike, I’m sorry – ”
“Frigging hell, Slayer! Don’t start apologizing without giving me some warning first. Almost fell off.” His voice changed, became softer, warmer. “There’s no need to say sorry, pet. You’re my wife in this Sunnydale. We’re allowed to have rows. It’s part of being married.”
“I said I didn’t trust you. I was lying. I just wanted to hurt you.”
“Why?’
Buffy stopped tugging at the chains. It was odd just talking to a voice, but in a strange way it was also easier than having those brilliant blue eyes staring into hers. “Because – because I love you and I think I know deep down that however much I hurt you, it won’t make any difference, you’ll still be on my side.” There was a silence and she went on, “Are you still there? Does that make any sense?”
“Sure. I know how you think. I shouldn’t have lost my temper but you offered the bait and I took it. I snapped, you yelled, slammed the door and bam, here we are, but still alive, still talking – ”
“ – and still no closer to killing Ben,” Buffy finished, feeling her heart lift.
“Of course, if you still want to do it all on your own, I’m quite happy to go home,” Spike teased.
Buffy shut her eyes briefly. Being the Slayer gave her all sorts of benefits, skills and talents. Being wise wasn’t one of them.
Suddenly the chanting and singing stopped. Buffy’s eyes flashed open and she gazed across the wide expanse of the hall. There was a lot of movement in a far doorway. The hooded demons were lining up, forming a passageway from the door to the table with the leather straps – a passageway for someone to pass along.
The chanting began again, but this time it was just two notes, one deep, the next high, on and on and on. And as they chanted, they stamped on the floor, a slow and menacing sound.
“What’s going on, pet?” Spike’s voice was urgent.
She tugged violently at the chains and felt the bolt ring move again. “Don’t know. But it won’t be good for me and Baby Key, that’s for sure.”
“Hate to add to your problems, sweetheart, but we’ve got another little difficulty to cope with.”
“What?”
“Daylight’s coming and I’m stuck up a wall facing the sun.”
“Go back down!” Buffy yelled, then froze as the demon closest to her, turned his black hooded head and she saw two red yes gleaming at her.
She screamed and struggled and he turned away, obviously convinced that she was fighting for her life.
“Buffy!”
“It’s OK. I’m OK. Don’t panic. I was just doing my King Kong heroine act. Look, Spike, get under cover. Find another way in here. Just don’t die on me.”
She tried to sound callous and cheerful, but her voice broke at the end. Oh God, if she lost him. What would she do? How could she go on without him?
“Stay where you are, pet. I’ll find another way.” There was a scrabbling noise, then silence.
Buffy blinked back the tears. Even the sound of his voice had given her hope. But at least he wasn’t sizzling to dust – something would be saved from this awful place and –
“Eeeek!” The exclamation broke from her lips as the curtain next to her swung open and her husband stood there, smiling. “Spike! You said you couldn’t get in the window! You said there was a bar. You lied!”
“What can I say, pet? Still evil,” he purred and with one swift step was at her side, putting his weight on the chain holding her to the wall. “Thought I’d just make sure I was welcome before I arrived on the scene. You might have had another plan.”
He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth as the ringbolt came out of the wall with a screech. Buffy glared at him in loving exasperation, then hastily pulled the other chain free. “We’ll talk about this later. We’ve got a hell-god to kill.”
Spike felt a wave of pleasure engulf him. “Like the sound of ‘we‘ve’, a lot.” He stared across the room at the demons. “Where is our Mr Ben, then? Getting ready to make a grand entrance, I suppose. God, I hate all these dramatics. Why didn’t he just kill you when he had the chance? Not that I’m complaining, mind! Just that all this show and flummery reminds me too much of my grand-sire, your dear departed ex.”
Buffy pushed him back into the shadows. “He’ll be here. He told me he was going home. That means one thing. He’ll try and take Baby Key for its blood.”
Spike vamped out for a second, and then shook himself back into human face. “Like to see him try,” he growled, then hesitated before saying, “Slayer, this is a bloody odd set-up. Why haven’t they attacked us? You’d think if he was so obsessed with the baby, he’d have put a couple of guards on you all the time, chained up or not. And they must have seen me by now.”
Buffy frowned and winced as she forced the metal cuffs off her wrists. “Well, he knew I couldn’t escape – what with being all chained up, you know!” Then a slow understanding began to creep over her. “Hey, you’re right. No one’s looked in this direction for ages. It’s as if they don’t care what happens to me. They’re all far too interested – ”
“In who’s coming through that door,” Spike broke in and jabbed a finger towards the chanting crowd lining the route to the table set out in front of Ben’s carved throne.
And as she looked, Buffy suddenly realised with a cold rush of horror, how wrong she had been about everything. She wasn’t pregnant; she wasn’t carrying the Key Baby for Ben to kill! Because being dragged screaming and cursing into the room by the black hooded demons, was a beautiful girl, black haired, dark-eyed. She was wearing a long, white robe, embroidered with gold that matched the linen covering on the table.
Her feet were bare and she was fighting every inch of the way - but it was no contest because although she was a Slayer, Faith was also heavily pregnant.
To be continued.
Chp 12 Outnumbered!
SOMETHING TO SING ABOUT
Chp 12 Outnumbered
The howling and chanting from the demons was reaching a frenzy as they pulled the heavily pregnant Faith into the room and forced her onto the table set out in front of Ben’s throne.
“Take your filthy hands off me! Bastards!” Her black hair flying, Faith was struggling with every inch of her power, but her bulk slowed her and she was overcome by sheer weight of numbers.
“Ah, Slayer. At last. I see the baby I have been waiting for is ready to take its first and last breath!” Ben stood up and walked down the steps of the dais to where she lay, bound by thick leather straps to the linen covered surface. He ran his hands over her stomach and Buffy winced as she saw Faith’s head lash from side to side, her dark hair flailing as she tried to escape.
“Spike! It’s Faith!”
The vampire braced himself as Slayer fingers dug into his arm so hard he felt they might meet in the middle. “And she’s a Slayer in this world, too, pet,” he replied. “We need to get her out of here – fast.”
Buffy pushed aside the roaring in her head – not pregnant, wasn’t you, not having a baby, no key, no new Dawn, nothing! “We can’t fight them. Outnumbered.” Then she started running towards them, knowing without looking that Spike was at her heels.
As she cleaved her way through the chanting monks, Buffy saw Faith’s head turn towards her. Anger, fear, fury, but no recognition of the blonde girl skidding to a halt at her side. The monks recovered from Buffy‘s assault and began to advance towards her and Spike, knives glittering in their hands.
“Think we’ve got trouble here, Slayer,” Spike said, turning his back to hers and vamping out.
Ben stared at Buffy across Faith’s body. He looked vaguely amused, his boyish, good-looking face breaking into a charming smile. “Well, the other Slayer wants a piece of the action, too, does she? And you’ve brought a pet along! How charming. I wonder if the portal will open any faster with three lots of blood in the mixture!”
Buffy shook her head and stepped forward until she was pressing against the table. “You don’t need this girl’s baby, Ben. You need mine.”
The smile vanished. “You’re pregnant?”
Buffy felt a wave of despair and loss flood across her, but refused to let any of the emotions show on her face. How she stopped the tears coming she had no idea, but managed to say, “Yes, I’m carrying your Key. Not this girl. Her death and her baby’s will serve no use at all.”
Ben smiled and gestured to the monks. “No use?”
He laughed and the monk standing beside Faith‘s head said, “Fantasticus, it would be extremely entertaining to see both Slayers die.”
Ben nodded. “One of them is carrying my Key.” He leant across Faith and hissed at Buffy. “I can cut it out of your belly and hers. You will both die!”
“Go away! Whoever you are, get the hell out of here.” Faith turned to Buffy, her face contorted with pain. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re going to die!”
“You never had any respect for my plans,” Buffy said, trying to sound light-hearted. “Ben, is that the best you can think of, slicing us open to reach the babies? Is that going to entertain your followers?”
“Buffy – ” Spike warned, wondering where the hell she was going with this. As far as he could see, they were up the bloody creek without a bloody paddle.
Suddenly, Buffy’s hand flashed out and snatched a wickedly curved dagger from the closest monk. He yelled and lunged forward but the dagger flashed forwards, just once and he fell dead to the floor, gurgling his own lifeblood away.
Ben’s face was impassive. The other monks began to shuffle forwards again but Buffy ignored them. She turned the dagger and held it against her chest over her heart.
“Right – your choice, Ben. You can’t be certain which Slayer is carrying your Key, can you? But the instant you touch either of us, I’ll kill myself. And my Key will die with me. Its blood will be no use to you, and believe me, this girl’s baby will prove to be just that – a baby.”
She heard Spike move behind her, sensed his distress, but there was no choice. Of course there wasn’t, there never had been. In the other Sunnydale, she had been forced to sacrifice herself to save Dawn, to save the world. In this world, she would have to sacrifice herself by her own hand to save Faith, to save her baby, and to save the world.
Suddenly Ben made a sharp gesture to one of his minions. “Untie this Slayer. Take both of them, and the vampire. Lock them away, somewhere dark and wet and crawling. Time is on my side.” His smile was suddenly cruel, the handsome face distorted by the twisted mouth.
“I will await the first infant, Slayer. If it is my Key, I will have it’s blood. If it isn’t, I’ll kill it anyway and wait for yours!”
Spike started to fight as the monks grabbed him, then realised Buffy had dropped her knife and was going quietly. He threw her a startled glance and calmed down, vamping back into human face and stayed silent as they were pushed and punched across the great hall and dragged down flights of steps.
A small door, only reaching to her shoulders was opened and the three of them were tossed inside. Spike spun round to catch Faith before she could crash to the ground. The door was slammed behind them and utter blackness fell.
“Faith? Are you OK?” Buffy reached out to touch the other Slayer and felt her flinch and pull away.
“Five by five, whoever the hell you are.”
“Name’s Buffy. This is Spike.”
“You say you’re a Slayer?”
Buffy hesitated. “That’s right. We’re – we’re from another Sunnydale. I’ve already killed another Ben there. Although he was a her, if you see what I mean. And when I heard that he was waiting for a baby Key, I thought, well, I imagined I was pregnant. But obviously, he meant you.”
Buffy could hear Faith rolling over and getting to her feet. “Obviously, B. Couldn’t be more pregnant if I tried. I don’t understand the other Sunnydale bit, but guess you saved me and junior back there, so thanks for that.”
“You planned on him wanting to wait and see what happens.” Spike’s voice came out of the dark.
Buffy reached out a hand instinctively and cool fingers closed over hers. Even in the dark, she knew Spike could see her. “I gambled that he wouldn’t be able to tell yet which baby was the Key. But there isn’t any doubt, because obviously, I’m not having a baby, Faith is.”
Faith laughed bitterly. “Well, there’s no doubt about my baby. Or what it is. Look!” In the dark, she must have unwrapped the loose skirt of her gown and Buffy gasped. There in the dark was a whirling, emerald green mist. Baby Key. The same green energy that had turned into Dawn was growing inside this Faith.
“How come he couldn’t see that?” Buffy asked, surprised. “He wouldn’t have waited two seconds to get to it if he’d known for sure.”
She felt Faith shrug and then she must have retied her gown and the green vanished. “You can only see it when it’s dark,” she said. “So, Slayer. You’re not in the club, then. So what do you plan on doing now? How are we getting out of here?”
Buffy sighed. All she’d known was that she had to get Faith and her child away from Ben, to give them time to think. She’d guessed that those wicked knives had been seconds away from tearing the living child out of the girl’s stomach.
“We’ll find a way,” she said stubbornly. “Spike, can you see anything in here that we can use?”
She felt the vampire throw himself down on the ground next to her. “Not a thing, pet. Place looks like it used to be some sort of storeroom. Low ceiling, few hooks on the walls. No doors. Solid floor. We’re only going out through the door we came in by.”
“OK, then let’s get some rest. I reckon they won’t be back just yet. They’ll let us alone for a couple of hours, then probably come back to gloat.”
“They’ll come back for the vampire, B,” Faith said suddenly out of the dark. “Ben won’t chance loosing the Key. He’ll wait until my baby arrives. But he knows he’s got to keep his little friends entertained. He’ll use the vampire as the evening’s entertainment. Believe me, I’ve seen it happen.”
Spike’s breath caressed Buffy’s ear. “Oh, that sounds like fun, Slayer. Just like the old days with Dru and Liam. Family fun. Blood all round and don’t trip over the bones on your way out.”
“Faith, how did you – ” Buffy stopped, but the other girl laughed in the darkness.
“How did I get caught? Well, you tell me, B. All I know is that I had a run in with a load of monks a few weeks back. Not Ben’s guys; these had brown robes and were small guys. But days later, I knew I was expecting. Don’t ask me how I knew, I just did. Then the green glow started and I realised I was in trouble, big time. And you can tell from the size of me that it’s growing far faster than a normal baby. So what the hell is it? A demon? A vamp?”
“It’s a Key,” Buffy said quietly, aware of Spike’s fingers stroking the back of her neck, arching her head against his hand. “It’s blood opens up the gateway to Ben’s demon dimension. The gateway stays open until the blood stops flowing. And all the hordes from hell come through to rule over earth.”
“Sounds like a fun day,” Faith drawled. “Well, B, as you say, we can do nothing until that door opens. I’m going to nap until then. Key or no key, this baby wriggles like a tadpole and kicks like a horse.”
There was a long silence, then Spike whispered. “You’re upset about the baby, aren’t you?”
Buffy nodded imperceptibly, but the movement was enough for Spike to feel under his stroking fingers and then her face was wet with tears against his. “I – I was terrified when I thought the Key was growing in me. Then – well – I suppose I thought it was my one chance of having a child. Stupid!”
“Not stupid, luv. But no baby Dawn.”
Buffy felt a tiny smile flicker across her face. “Well, one Dawnie’s enough for any Sunnydale, surely.”
He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms round her, rocking her gently too and fro. “Can’t say I’m not sad myself. Fancied doing the fond papa routine. Niblet‘s not a bit interested in football. Might have been a boy. Could have bought it a Man U shirt.” They sat in silence for a while, then, “We’re deep in the bloody mire here, aren‘t we, pet? You can’t pull the ‘I’ll kill myself’ routine again. And Ben or one of his idiots has only got to get a glimpse of all that swirling green inside Faith and the game’s up.”
“There’s still Willow and Xander.”
Spike grunted. “They won’t come to help. One’s too drunk and the other’s too shattered. I reckon we’re on our own.”
Buffy didn‘t reply. She gazed sightlessly into the dark, waiting for the first crack of light to show around the doorway. Willow, Xander and Tara. Three scared people who were relying on her to sort out Ben, to make everything right again, because that was what Slayers did.
But for all that, one was a witch, one of the strongest witches Buffy had ever known. Tara had more common sense than most people and underneath Xander’s drunken façade lay the heart of a brave if foolish knight.
Spike was wrong. They would try to help. They wouldn’t let her down. She trusted them, in her own Sunnydale and in this one as well.
To be continued.
Chp 12 Outnumbered
The howling and chanting from the demons was reaching a frenzy as they pulled the heavily pregnant Faith into the room and forced her onto the table set out in front of Ben’s throne.
“Take your filthy hands off me! Bastards!” Her black hair flying, Faith was struggling with every inch of her power, but her bulk slowed her and she was overcome by sheer weight of numbers.
“Ah, Slayer. At last. I see the baby I have been waiting for is ready to take its first and last breath!” Ben stood up and walked down the steps of the dais to where she lay, bound by thick leather straps to the linen covered surface. He ran his hands over her stomach and Buffy winced as she saw Faith’s head lash from side to side, her dark hair flailing as she tried to escape.
“Spike! It’s Faith!”
The vampire braced himself as Slayer fingers dug into his arm so hard he felt they might meet in the middle. “And she’s a Slayer in this world, too, pet,” he replied. “We need to get her out of here – fast.”
Buffy pushed aside the roaring in her head – not pregnant, wasn’t you, not having a baby, no key, no new Dawn, nothing! “We can’t fight them. Outnumbered.” Then she started running towards them, knowing without looking that Spike was at her heels.
As she cleaved her way through the chanting monks, Buffy saw Faith’s head turn towards her. Anger, fear, fury, but no recognition of the blonde girl skidding to a halt at her side. The monks recovered from Buffy‘s assault and began to advance towards her and Spike, knives glittering in their hands.
“Think we’ve got trouble here, Slayer,” Spike said, turning his back to hers and vamping out.
Ben stared at Buffy across Faith’s body. He looked vaguely amused, his boyish, good-looking face breaking into a charming smile. “Well, the other Slayer wants a piece of the action, too, does she? And you’ve brought a pet along! How charming. I wonder if the portal will open any faster with three lots of blood in the mixture!”
Buffy shook her head and stepped forward until she was pressing against the table. “You don’t need this girl’s baby, Ben. You need mine.”
The smile vanished. “You’re pregnant?”
Buffy felt a wave of despair and loss flood across her, but refused to let any of the emotions show on her face. How she stopped the tears coming she had no idea, but managed to say, “Yes, I’m carrying your Key. Not this girl. Her death and her baby’s will serve no use at all.”
Ben smiled and gestured to the monks. “No use?”
He laughed and the monk standing beside Faith‘s head said, “Fantasticus, it would be extremely entertaining to see both Slayers die.”
Ben nodded. “One of them is carrying my Key.” He leant across Faith and hissed at Buffy. “I can cut it out of your belly and hers. You will both die!”
“Go away! Whoever you are, get the hell out of here.” Faith turned to Buffy, her face contorted with pain. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re going to die!”
“You never had any respect for my plans,” Buffy said, trying to sound light-hearted. “Ben, is that the best you can think of, slicing us open to reach the babies? Is that going to entertain your followers?”
“Buffy – ” Spike warned, wondering where the hell she was going with this. As far as he could see, they were up the bloody creek without a bloody paddle.
Suddenly, Buffy’s hand flashed out and snatched a wickedly curved dagger from the closest monk. He yelled and lunged forward but the dagger flashed forwards, just once and he fell dead to the floor, gurgling his own lifeblood away.
Ben’s face was impassive. The other monks began to shuffle forwards again but Buffy ignored them. She turned the dagger and held it against her chest over her heart.
“Right – your choice, Ben. You can’t be certain which Slayer is carrying your Key, can you? But the instant you touch either of us, I’ll kill myself. And my Key will die with me. Its blood will be no use to you, and believe me, this girl’s baby will prove to be just that – a baby.”
She heard Spike move behind her, sensed his distress, but there was no choice. Of course there wasn’t, there never had been. In the other Sunnydale, she had been forced to sacrifice herself to save Dawn, to save the world. In this world, she would have to sacrifice herself by her own hand to save Faith, to save her baby, and to save the world.
Suddenly Ben made a sharp gesture to one of his minions. “Untie this Slayer. Take both of them, and the vampire. Lock them away, somewhere dark and wet and crawling. Time is on my side.” His smile was suddenly cruel, the handsome face distorted by the twisted mouth.
“I will await the first infant, Slayer. If it is my Key, I will have it’s blood. If it isn’t, I’ll kill it anyway and wait for yours!”
Spike started to fight as the monks grabbed him, then realised Buffy had dropped her knife and was going quietly. He threw her a startled glance and calmed down, vamping back into human face and stayed silent as they were pushed and punched across the great hall and dragged down flights of steps.
A small door, only reaching to her shoulders was opened and the three of them were tossed inside. Spike spun round to catch Faith before she could crash to the ground. The door was slammed behind them and utter blackness fell.
“Faith? Are you OK?” Buffy reached out to touch the other Slayer and felt her flinch and pull away.
“Five by five, whoever the hell you are.”
“Name’s Buffy. This is Spike.”
“You say you’re a Slayer?”
Buffy hesitated. “That’s right. We’re – we’re from another Sunnydale. I’ve already killed another Ben there. Although he was a her, if you see what I mean. And when I heard that he was waiting for a baby Key, I thought, well, I imagined I was pregnant. But obviously, he meant you.”
Buffy could hear Faith rolling over and getting to her feet. “Obviously, B. Couldn’t be more pregnant if I tried. I don’t understand the other Sunnydale bit, but guess you saved me and junior back there, so thanks for that.”
“You planned on him wanting to wait and see what happens.” Spike’s voice came out of the dark.
Buffy reached out a hand instinctively and cool fingers closed over hers. Even in the dark, she knew Spike could see her. “I gambled that he wouldn’t be able to tell yet which baby was the Key. But there isn’t any doubt, because obviously, I’m not having a baby, Faith is.”
Faith laughed bitterly. “Well, there’s no doubt about my baby. Or what it is. Look!” In the dark, she must have unwrapped the loose skirt of her gown and Buffy gasped. There in the dark was a whirling, emerald green mist. Baby Key. The same green energy that had turned into Dawn was growing inside this Faith.
“How come he couldn’t see that?” Buffy asked, surprised. “He wouldn’t have waited two seconds to get to it if he’d known for sure.”
She felt Faith shrug and then she must have retied her gown and the green vanished. “You can only see it when it’s dark,” she said. “So, Slayer. You’re not in the club, then. So what do you plan on doing now? How are we getting out of here?”
Buffy sighed. All she’d known was that she had to get Faith and her child away from Ben, to give them time to think. She’d guessed that those wicked knives had been seconds away from tearing the living child out of the girl’s stomach.
“We’ll find a way,” she said stubbornly. “Spike, can you see anything in here that we can use?”
She felt the vampire throw himself down on the ground next to her. “Not a thing, pet. Place looks like it used to be some sort of storeroom. Low ceiling, few hooks on the walls. No doors. Solid floor. We’re only going out through the door we came in by.”
“OK, then let’s get some rest. I reckon they won’t be back just yet. They’ll let us alone for a couple of hours, then probably come back to gloat.”
“They’ll come back for the vampire, B,” Faith said suddenly out of the dark. “Ben won’t chance loosing the Key. He’ll wait until my baby arrives. But he knows he’s got to keep his little friends entertained. He’ll use the vampire as the evening’s entertainment. Believe me, I’ve seen it happen.”
Spike’s breath caressed Buffy’s ear. “Oh, that sounds like fun, Slayer. Just like the old days with Dru and Liam. Family fun. Blood all round and don’t trip over the bones on your way out.”
“Faith, how did you – ” Buffy stopped, but the other girl laughed in the darkness.
“How did I get caught? Well, you tell me, B. All I know is that I had a run in with a load of monks a few weeks back. Not Ben’s guys; these had brown robes and were small guys. But days later, I knew I was expecting. Don’t ask me how I knew, I just did. Then the green glow started and I realised I was in trouble, big time. And you can tell from the size of me that it’s growing far faster than a normal baby. So what the hell is it? A demon? A vamp?”
“It’s a Key,” Buffy said quietly, aware of Spike’s fingers stroking the back of her neck, arching her head against his hand. “It’s blood opens up the gateway to Ben’s demon dimension. The gateway stays open until the blood stops flowing. And all the hordes from hell come through to rule over earth.”
“Sounds like a fun day,” Faith drawled. “Well, B, as you say, we can do nothing until that door opens. I’m going to nap until then. Key or no key, this baby wriggles like a tadpole and kicks like a horse.”
There was a long silence, then Spike whispered. “You’re upset about the baby, aren’t you?”
Buffy nodded imperceptibly, but the movement was enough for Spike to feel under his stroking fingers and then her face was wet with tears against his. “I – I was terrified when I thought the Key was growing in me. Then – well – I suppose I thought it was my one chance of having a child. Stupid!”
“Not stupid, luv. But no baby Dawn.”
Buffy felt a tiny smile flicker across her face. “Well, one Dawnie’s enough for any Sunnydale, surely.”
He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms round her, rocking her gently too and fro. “Can’t say I’m not sad myself. Fancied doing the fond papa routine. Niblet‘s not a bit interested in football. Might have been a boy. Could have bought it a Man U shirt.” They sat in silence for a while, then, “We’re deep in the bloody mire here, aren‘t we, pet? You can’t pull the ‘I’ll kill myself’ routine again. And Ben or one of his idiots has only got to get a glimpse of all that swirling green inside Faith and the game’s up.”
“There’s still Willow and Xander.”
Spike grunted. “They won’t come to help. One’s too drunk and the other’s too shattered. I reckon we’re on our own.”
Buffy didn‘t reply. She gazed sightlessly into the dark, waiting for the first crack of light to show around the doorway. Willow, Xander and Tara. Three scared people who were relying on her to sort out Ben, to make everything right again, because that was what Slayers did.
But for all that, one was a witch, one of the strongest witches Buffy had ever known. Tara had more common sense than most people and underneath Xander’s drunken façade lay the heart of a brave if foolish knight.
Spike was wrong. They would try to help. They wouldn’t let her down. She trusted them, in her own Sunnydale and in this one as well.
To be continued.
Chp 13 Never Died
Something to Sing About
Chp 13 Never Died
Tara and Xander watched as Willow sighed and reached out once more for their hands. Sitting on the floor, linked together, she was fighting against Ben on some magical level to control the power lines that fed Sunnydale. Suddenly the lights flickered and came on and the gloomy room sprang into sharp relief.
“You’ve done it, Will!” Xander said. “You’ve beaten Ben. You control the power grid.”
Willow frowned. “No. That was too easy. One second I could feel him holding me off, effortlessly. I couldn’t touch him - then – nothing. Almost as if he suddenly lost interest.”
“Do you think Buffy killed him?” Tara whispered, leaning against Xander’s solid shoulder.
The witch shook her head. “No – ” she frowned harder, sending her mind out into the darkness that Ben had thrown over the town. “No, he’s still alive, but just not concentrating.”
“So Buffy and Spike must be distracting him,” Xander said. “God, I could do with a drink.”
Willow stood up, went out into the kitchen and began to make coffee before the power went off again. She was using bottled water but at least it would be hot. She was confused. She had to admit she didn’t have to try that hard any more to keep control. She was even beginning to wonder if she could perhaps start on the water supplies at the same time.
She cupped her hands round her cup. Something wasn’t right. Ben had been all-powerful for so long. No one had had a chance against him. He’d killed her Oz as easily as swatting a fly and with less concern. So why should he allow her to take back some control of Sunnydale like this? Power made everyone‘s life much easier and surely that was something Ben didn’t want to happen. It didn’t make sense – unless –
A gentle hand on her shoulder made her jump. Tara smiled at her and poured herself a cup of coffee. “You’ve got your worried face on again, Will. Is it Buffy?”
“Something’s wrong. I know I’m not strong enough to beat Ben, but hey – hot coffee!”
Xander came into the kitchen, scrubbing at his face with his fists, fighting the desire to search every shelf for a forgotten can of beer. “I thought we’d agreed that Buffy’s probably making a nuisance of herself. Enough to take away some of his control.”
Willow shook her head. “No. This isn’t a lessening of his power – it’s more as if he’s lost interest because – ”
“He knows he isn’t going to be here long?” Tara said quietly. “Perhaps he’s found a way to open that devil dimension that Buffy and Spike were talking about.”
“So Buffy and Spike have lost the war?” Xander’s coffee cup smashed on the floor, dropped through his shaking hands, but no one noticed.
“Perhaps not the war, but I don’t think they’ve won the first battle,” Willow replied anxiously.
“We should have gone with them.” Tara felt suddenly ashamed of herself. She knew she wasn’t a brave person, knew that if she’d been stronger in the last few months, she would have helped Xander fight his drink addiction. Instead she’d turned a blind eye to it, hoping that it would just go away.
“She’s the Slayer, what could we do that she couldn’t?” Willow said bitterly. She still felt a surge of resentment against Buffy for not being here in this Sunnydale when Ben killed Oz. If she had been, then her wonderful partner wouldn’t now be lying in a grave in the cemetery, all twisted and broken from what Ben had done to him.
Xander was staring down at the shattered pieces of crockery at his feet. Bit like his life. Broken, ruined, a mess. He remembered a time, a couple of years back, before he’d found how nice the world looked through the bottom of a glass, when he would have tried to fight Ben himself. Oh, he wouldn’t have succeeded, but at least he’d have given it a go. Like Oz had done. And paid the price.
He felt remembered with a shudder how secretly relieved and pleased he’d been when Buffy and Spike had told the three of them to stay behind, that they would fight Ben on their own. Why hadn’t he ignored what they’d said and gone with them? Was this really who he was? A cowardly drunk? He stared deep into his mind and some little spark of the man he could have been, the man he was in another Sunnydale, flared into life.
“I think we need to go up to the hotel,” he said and almost wondered who it was who’d spoken, who was putting his life on the line.
Locked in a cellar, deep in the bowels of the hotel, Spike and Buffy were sitting, arms round each other, listening to the small sounds Faith was making as she slept. Her dreams were obviously not happy because her head tossed and turned from side to side.
“Faith as a mother takes a lot of getting used to,” Buffy murmured. “Even more than me having a baby.”
Spike stroked her hair. “Must admit I can’t see her in the role.”
Buffy sighed and got to her feet. “We need to explore this place again, Spike. There must be some way out.”
Spike joined her as in the dark she ran her hands over the stone walls and flagged floor. But there were no hidden passages or trapdoors that he could find. Suddenly he tensed.
“What?”
“They’re coming, pet. Probably for me, as Faith suggested. Spike’s going to be the entertainment for the rest of the evening! Well, it’ll be interesting to see if they can come up with better ideas of torture than Angel at his best!”
Buffy grabbed his hand, but Spike pulled away. “Listen! Don’t fight back, whatever happens!”
“Spike – I’m not just going to let them take you!” She reached blindly for him – she had to touch him once more! - but he’d moved away in the blackness.
“No, pet. I’m not important! What’s important is stopping Ben getting his nasty claws on that baby and bringing this world to an end.”
“But – but, I love you!”
The words came tumbling out of her mouth as the door crashed open and flaring light from great flaming torches blinded her for an instant and then she instinctively flung herself protectively across Faith’s body.
The monks hurtled into the cellar, laughing and yelling, reaching for Spike. She saw two go down under the vampire’s flying kicks and punches but there were too many for him to hold off and cursing, he was dragged by the mob from the cellar along with the bodies of the monks he’d killed and the door slammed shut behind them.
In the echoing silence, Faith wriggled out from under Buffy’s body and sat up. One of the monks had dropped a torch and the flames guttered and flickered, throwing out enough light so Buffy could see the other Slayer’s face.
“Came for him? Said they would.”
Buffy felt as though she’d been plunged into icy water. Her lips were too stiff to move, she could hardly speak. “They’re going to torture him, aren’t they?”
Faith groaned and rubbed her stomach. “Oh do stop it, baby! What? Yes, Ben will want to keep his grungy monks happy until either you or me produce the main event. And from the way this kid’s kicking, that won’t be long!”
“Will they dust him?” Buffy tried to stay calm. She wanted to hurl herself at the door, smash it off its hinges, run out and kill and kill –
Faith pushed back her long black hair from her face. “Oh no, they’re going to eat burgers and sit and watch TV together! Of course they’ll dust him. Eventually. But not just yet. Can he cope with pain? Because I reckon they’re going to inflict quite a lot.”
Buffy stood up. Would she hear if he called out in agony? Not with her ears, no, but even now she knew he was suffering. She could feel that with every nerve ending in her body. She remembered what he’d looked like when Glory had finished with him back in their other world. The bloody mess that ho bitch had made of his beautiful body and face.
She shuddered. Had she loved him then? She’d been so angry over the bot, but he’d protected Dawn from Glory and she’d kissed him. At the time she‘d seen it as a sort of reward, but in her heart of hearts, she’d known she’d kissed him because she’d wanted to feel his lips under hers. And what had caused that desire? Even then, although she’d never have admitted it, she’d had feelings for him, feelings she could never admit in that world.
But here everything was so different. They were married, in love, accepted by all their friends.
“Mega weird, you being all lovey-dovey with a vamp. Not something I ever thought I’d see. But then I never thought I’d get to meet another Slayer. Always taught that one of us had to die for the next to be called. Someone’s not been paying attention to the rules.”
Buffy frowned. Faith was right. She’d never died in this universe. OK, she’d gone missing, but did that count? Well, here was Faith, a Slayer, so obviously it did.
“What did you intend to do with your baby?” she asked suddenly. “I mean, you didn’t know I existed until we met. Were you going to keep it?”
Faith winced again and Buffy thought she could almost detect the glowing green light through the dark haired girl’s clothing. “Well, let’s face it, B, I knew it wasn’t a normal kid. I reckoned someone would be along to collect it, sooner or later. Must admit I had no idea exactly what!“
Buffy tried to concentrate on what was being said. Anything rather than think about what was happening to Spike. ‘Do you have a Watcher?”
“Used to. Well, still have, I suppose. But he’s gone back to England for some sort of conference. His name’s Wesley.”
Buffy sighed. Why wasn’t she surprised?
“When he left LA, there was hardly any demon activity around and he knows I can cope with any number of vamps, no trouble. Then I got word that Ben had arrived in Sunnydale– and Wesley – well, Wesley’s never come back so I headed on down here. And wham – glowing green baby!”
“We can’t let Ben get hold of the Key,” Buffy said wearily and leant against the door, trying to hear through the inches thick wood. Oh God, what were they doing to him? “If Spike – no, I refuse to believe he’s dead. Not yet. I’d know.”
Faith looked up sharply through her veil of black tangled hair. “Oh, they’ll keep him alive for ages yet, B. How the hell did you get involved with a vamp, anyway? It’s mega weird. Did you miss the “we see ’em and stake ’em’ lesson?“
Buffy hesitated. She wondered why this girl always ended up making her feel so irritated. Even heavily pregnant as Faith was, she had the devil-may-care attitude that had always annoyed Buffy so much.
“The army put a sort of controlling micro chip in his brain,” she said shortly. “It meant he couldn’t kill anyone. If he tried to bite, he got these dreadful blinding head pains.”
Light from the dying torch flickered gold and amber across Faith’s beautiful face. She looked puzzled. “But he just killed those monk guys?”
Buffy shrugged. “I suppose they count as demons. And anyway, in this world the chip doesn’t work. In fact we’re not even sure he has one. There’s no way of telling.”
Faith looked impatient. “That doesn’t compute, B. If the vamp’s got a metal gizmo in his brain, it won’t vanish just because he comes through some magical portal.”
“Then it doesn’t work here!” Buffy replied stubbornly.
“Oh great. You’re sleeping with a vamp who could kill you in a second! Hey, B, what strikes you as odd about that sentence? Are you mad, girl?”
Buffy was silent for a long while. She was reaching out with her mind, desperately seeking the connection she always felt with Spike. He was still alive, she knew that. She also knew he was in pain. And it was killing her.
“I trust him,” she said at last. “I love him and trust him – with my life.” And once again the peace and relief she always felt when she said those words flooded over her.
Faith shrugged and struggled to get herself back on her feet. “Well, at the moment whether you trust him or not doesn’t matter. There’s just the two of us left in here and I can’t see how we’re going to get out of it in one piece.”
“We fight!” Buffy said grimly. “We fight and fight again.”
Faith nodded towards the door. “Well, I reckon we’d better start. Someone’s outside.”
Buffy stood with her back to the wall behind the door. She motioned to Faith to lie on the floor and the Slayer slumped down, clutching her stomach and groaning convincingly.
The door creaked slowly open and as a thick-set figure in a brown robe, the hood pulled up over his head moved into the room, Buffy hurled herself forward, grabbed him round the neck and flung him across the room to bounce off the wall and collapse on the floor.
Like a flash, Faith was up and sitting astride the groaning figure, her fingers reaching for his neck just as Willow’s hoarse voice whispered – “Buffy! Stop her! That’s Xander!”
Chp 13 Never Died
Tara and Xander watched as Willow sighed and reached out once more for their hands. Sitting on the floor, linked together, she was fighting against Ben on some magical level to control the power lines that fed Sunnydale. Suddenly the lights flickered and came on and the gloomy room sprang into sharp relief.
“You’ve done it, Will!” Xander said. “You’ve beaten Ben. You control the power grid.”
Willow frowned. “No. That was too easy. One second I could feel him holding me off, effortlessly. I couldn’t touch him - then – nothing. Almost as if he suddenly lost interest.”
“Do you think Buffy killed him?” Tara whispered, leaning against Xander’s solid shoulder.
The witch shook her head. “No – ” she frowned harder, sending her mind out into the darkness that Ben had thrown over the town. “No, he’s still alive, but just not concentrating.”
“So Buffy and Spike must be distracting him,” Xander said. “God, I could do with a drink.”
Willow stood up, went out into the kitchen and began to make coffee before the power went off again. She was using bottled water but at least it would be hot. She was confused. She had to admit she didn’t have to try that hard any more to keep control. She was even beginning to wonder if she could perhaps start on the water supplies at the same time.
She cupped her hands round her cup. Something wasn’t right. Ben had been all-powerful for so long. No one had had a chance against him. He’d killed her Oz as easily as swatting a fly and with less concern. So why should he allow her to take back some control of Sunnydale like this? Power made everyone‘s life much easier and surely that was something Ben didn’t want to happen. It didn’t make sense – unless –
A gentle hand on her shoulder made her jump. Tara smiled at her and poured herself a cup of coffee. “You’ve got your worried face on again, Will. Is it Buffy?”
“Something’s wrong. I know I’m not strong enough to beat Ben, but hey – hot coffee!”
Xander came into the kitchen, scrubbing at his face with his fists, fighting the desire to search every shelf for a forgotten can of beer. “I thought we’d agreed that Buffy’s probably making a nuisance of herself. Enough to take away some of his control.”
Willow shook her head. “No. This isn’t a lessening of his power – it’s more as if he’s lost interest because – ”
“He knows he isn’t going to be here long?” Tara said quietly. “Perhaps he’s found a way to open that devil dimension that Buffy and Spike were talking about.”
“So Buffy and Spike have lost the war?” Xander’s coffee cup smashed on the floor, dropped through his shaking hands, but no one noticed.
“Perhaps not the war, but I don’t think they’ve won the first battle,” Willow replied anxiously.
“We should have gone with them.” Tara felt suddenly ashamed of herself. She knew she wasn’t a brave person, knew that if she’d been stronger in the last few months, she would have helped Xander fight his drink addiction. Instead she’d turned a blind eye to it, hoping that it would just go away.
“She’s the Slayer, what could we do that she couldn’t?” Willow said bitterly. She still felt a surge of resentment against Buffy for not being here in this Sunnydale when Ben killed Oz. If she had been, then her wonderful partner wouldn’t now be lying in a grave in the cemetery, all twisted and broken from what Ben had done to him.
Xander was staring down at the shattered pieces of crockery at his feet. Bit like his life. Broken, ruined, a mess. He remembered a time, a couple of years back, before he’d found how nice the world looked through the bottom of a glass, when he would have tried to fight Ben himself. Oh, he wouldn’t have succeeded, but at least he’d have given it a go. Like Oz had done. And paid the price.
He felt remembered with a shudder how secretly relieved and pleased he’d been when Buffy and Spike had told the three of them to stay behind, that they would fight Ben on their own. Why hadn’t he ignored what they’d said and gone with them? Was this really who he was? A cowardly drunk? He stared deep into his mind and some little spark of the man he could have been, the man he was in another Sunnydale, flared into life.
“I think we need to go up to the hotel,” he said and almost wondered who it was who’d spoken, who was putting his life on the line.
Locked in a cellar, deep in the bowels of the hotel, Spike and Buffy were sitting, arms round each other, listening to the small sounds Faith was making as she slept. Her dreams were obviously not happy because her head tossed and turned from side to side.
“Faith as a mother takes a lot of getting used to,” Buffy murmured. “Even more than me having a baby.”
Spike stroked her hair. “Must admit I can’t see her in the role.”
Buffy sighed and got to her feet. “We need to explore this place again, Spike. There must be some way out.”
Spike joined her as in the dark she ran her hands over the stone walls and flagged floor. But there were no hidden passages or trapdoors that he could find. Suddenly he tensed.
“What?”
“They’re coming, pet. Probably for me, as Faith suggested. Spike’s going to be the entertainment for the rest of the evening! Well, it’ll be interesting to see if they can come up with better ideas of torture than Angel at his best!”
Buffy grabbed his hand, but Spike pulled away. “Listen! Don’t fight back, whatever happens!”
“Spike – I’m not just going to let them take you!” She reached blindly for him – she had to touch him once more! - but he’d moved away in the blackness.
“No, pet. I’m not important! What’s important is stopping Ben getting his nasty claws on that baby and bringing this world to an end.”
“But – but, I love you!”
The words came tumbling out of her mouth as the door crashed open and flaring light from great flaming torches blinded her for an instant and then she instinctively flung herself protectively across Faith’s body.
The monks hurtled into the cellar, laughing and yelling, reaching for Spike. She saw two go down under the vampire’s flying kicks and punches but there were too many for him to hold off and cursing, he was dragged by the mob from the cellar along with the bodies of the monks he’d killed and the door slammed shut behind them.
In the echoing silence, Faith wriggled out from under Buffy’s body and sat up. One of the monks had dropped a torch and the flames guttered and flickered, throwing out enough light so Buffy could see the other Slayer’s face.
“Came for him? Said they would.”
Buffy felt as though she’d been plunged into icy water. Her lips were too stiff to move, she could hardly speak. “They’re going to torture him, aren’t they?”
Faith groaned and rubbed her stomach. “Oh do stop it, baby! What? Yes, Ben will want to keep his grungy monks happy until either you or me produce the main event. And from the way this kid’s kicking, that won’t be long!”
“Will they dust him?” Buffy tried to stay calm. She wanted to hurl herself at the door, smash it off its hinges, run out and kill and kill –
Faith pushed back her long black hair from her face. “Oh no, they’re going to eat burgers and sit and watch TV together! Of course they’ll dust him. Eventually. But not just yet. Can he cope with pain? Because I reckon they’re going to inflict quite a lot.”
Buffy stood up. Would she hear if he called out in agony? Not with her ears, no, but even now she knew he was suffering. She could feel that with every nerve ending in her body. She remembered what he’d looked like when Glory had finished with him back in their other world. The bloody mess that ho bitch had made of his beautiful body and face.
She shuddered. Had she loved him then? She’d been so angry over the bot, but he’d protected Dawn from Glory and she’d kissed him. At the time she‘d seen it as a sort of reward, but in her heart of hearts, she’d known she’d kissed him because she’d wanted to feel his lips under hers. And what had caused that desire? Even then, although she’d never have admitted it, she’d had feelings for him, feelings she could never admit in that world.
But here everything was so different. They were married, in love, accepted by all their friends.
“Mega weird, you being all lovey-dovey with a vamp. Not something I ever thought I’d see. But then I never thought I’d get to meet another Slayer. Always taught that one of us had to die for the next to be called. Someone’s not been paying attention to the rules.”
Buffy frowned. Faith was right. She’d never died in this universe. OK, she’d gone missing, but did that count? Well, here was Faith, a Slayer, so obviously it did.
“What did you intend to do with your baby?” she asked suddenly. “I mean, you didn’t know I existed until we met. Were you going to keep it?”
Faith winced again and Buffy thought she could almost detect the glowing green light through the dark haired girl’s clothing. “Well, let’s face it, B, I knew it wasn’t a normal kid. I reckoned someone would be along to collect it, sooner or later. Must admit I had no idea exactly what!“
Buffy tried to concentrate on what was being said. Anything rather than think about what was happening to Spike. ‘Do you have a Watcher?”
“Used to. Well, still have, I suppose. But he’s gone back to England for some sort of conference. His name’s Wesley.”
Buffy sighed. Why wasn’t she surprised?
“When he left LA, there was hardly any demon activity around and he knows I can cope with any number of vamps, no trouble. Then I got word that Ben had arrived in Sunnydale– and Wesley – well, Wesley’s never come back so I headed on down here. And wham – glowing green baby!”
“We can’t let Ben get hold of the Key,” Buffy said wearily and leant against the door, trying to hear through the inches thick wood. Oh God, what were they doing to him? “If Spike – no, I refuse to believe he’s dead. Not yet. I’d know.”
Faith looked up sharply through her veil of black tangled hair. “Oh, they’ll keep him alive for ages yet, B. How the hell did you get involved with a vamp, anyway? It’s mega weird. Did you miss the “we see ’em and stake ’em’ lesson?“
Buffy hesitated. She wondered why this girl always ended up making her feel so irritated. Even heavily pregnant as Faith was, she had the devil-may-care attitude that had always annoyed Buffy so much.
“The army put a sort of controlling micro chip in his brain,” she said shortly. “It meant he couldn’t kill anyone. If he tried to bite, he got these dreadful blinding head pains.”
Light from the dying torch flickered gold and amber across Faith’s beautiful face. She looked puzzled. “But he just killed those monk guys?”
Buffy shrugged. “I suppose they count as demons. And anyway, in this world the chip doesn’t work. In fact we’re not even sure he has one. There’s no way of telling.”
Faith looked impatient. “That doesn’t compute, B. If the vamp’s got a metal gizmo in his brain, it won’t vanish just because he comes through some magical portal.”
“Then it doesn’t work here!” Buffy replied stubbornly.
“Oh great. You’re sleeping with a vamp who could kill you in a second! Hey, B, what strikes you as odd about that sentence? Are you mad, girl?”
Buffy was silent for a long while. She was reaching out with her mind, desperately seeking the connection she always felt with Spike. He was still alive, she knew that. She also knew he was in pain. And it was killing her.
“I trust him,” she said at last. “I love him and trust him – with my life.” And once again the peace and relief she always felt when she said those words flooded over her.
Faith shrugged and struggled to get herself back on her feet. “Well, at the moment whether you trust him or not doesn’t matter. There’s just the two of us left in here and I can’t see how we’re going to get out of it in one piece.”
“We fight!” Buffy said grimly. “We fight and fight again.”
Faith nodded towards the door. “Well, I reckon we’d better start. Someone’s outside.”
Buffy stood with her back to the wall behind the door. She motioned to Faith to lie on the floor and the Slayer slumped down, clutching her stomach and groaning convincingly.
The door creaked slowly open and as a thick-set figure in a brown robe, the hood pulled up over his head moved into the room, Buffy hurled herself forward, grabbed him round the neck and flung him across the room to bounce off the wall and collapse on the floor.
Like a flash, Faith was up and sitting astride the groaning figure, her fingers reaching for his neck just as Willow’s hoarse voice whispered – “Buffy! Stop her! That’s Xander!”
Chp 14 Right or Wrong
Something to Sing About
Chp 14 Right or Wrong
“Willow! Xander! Faith, let him up! He’s a friend of mine. His name’s Xander!”
The heavily pregnant, dark-haired girl rolled clumsily off the body beneath her, wincing as the baby kicked, agitated by all the excitement. Buffy could see Willow’s eyes widen at the sight of the glowing green light showing under the robes the other Slayer was wearing.
“What the hell are you doing here? No, never mind. I’m just so pleased to see you both,” Buffy whispered and reached down to effortlessly lift Xander to his feet. “How did you get past the guards?”
Willow smiled weakly. “I’d forgotten just how much magic I can conjure up when I put my mind to it,” she said. “I made them fall asleep. I…I couldn’t kill them, Buffy. I wanted to!” She swayed where she stood, remembering Oz’s dead, twisted body. “Oh god, I wanted to so much! But I couldn’t. They’ll wake up soon.”
“We’d better not be here then, B,” Faith said.
“Who’s this?” Willow asked.
“Her name‘s Faith,” Buffy replied briefly, opening the door and peering out into the corridor. “She’s a Slayer. She’s the one having a baby. She’s carrying the Key, the thing Ben wants more than anything.”
Xander stared apprehensively at the pregnant girl. “Buffy, she can’t be. You’re not dead.” He reached out to pinch her arm. “You’re not, are you?”
Buffy felt her nerve endings rip in pain and knew that somewhere, Ben was torturing Spike. Nausea filled her throat and she battled it back. She had to get to him, rescue him, but first of all she had to get Faith to safety.
“I don‘t understand it, either, Xander. But here she is and she‘s carrying the Key baby that Ben needs to open his portal into another reality. This is what this whole thing has been about. He needs to get home.”
“ET phone home,” Xander muttered and then wished he hadn’t as the three girls glared at him.
“Tara’s keeping look-out on the stairway,” Willow said as they slipped out of the door into a long dark corridor. “I don’t know how long the guards will stay asleep, Buffy. We need to hurry.”
They reached a flight of step stones that twisted round out of sight. Buffy led the way, stepping cautiously over the snoring bodies of Ben’s guards who were lying everywhere. At the top of the stairs, Tara stood, her face very white, almost shaking with fear. She gasped with relief when she saw them all.
“Oh thank God, Xander, are you all right? Buffy?”
“We’re OK, Tara. What’s happening?”
“The g…guards are st…still asleep!” she gasped, reaching out for Xander’s hand. “But one or two of them are groaning and rolling about. They could wake up at any moment. I was so scared!”
Despite her unhappiness, Buffy smiled briefly. She knew only too well that to act when you were frightened was far braver than rushing into action when you weren’t scared of anything. She appreciated deeply what her friends in this world had done for her.
“Willow – Xander. Listen, take Faith and get the hell out of here,” she said tersely.
“B, you have to come too,” Faith gasped as pain rippled across her face. “Ben will kill you without thinking once he knows we’ve escaped.”
Buffy shook her head. “I’m not leaving Spike here,” she said softly glancing across at the vast wooden door that led to the Great Hall. She was certain that was where they were holding the vampire. Where they were torturing him, not for information or revenge, but just because it gave them a warped sense of amusement. “He wouldn’t leave me and I won’t abandon him.”
“But Buffy, how on earth are you going to rescue him?” Faith said. “Ben’s a god and you can’t seriously think you’re going to get the vampire away from him with the help of these three amateurs!”
Buffy stared at her in disgust. “Well, they’ve just saved us, Faith, so not such amateurs now. But don’t worry, I’m going in on my own.”
“Buffy!” Willow grasped her arm, her eyes dark with worry and fear. “Isn’t it more important to make sure Faith and her baby are safe? ”
Buffy hesitated, almost unable to bear the pain that was tearing through her mind. Leave Spike to his fate? Was that what she had to do to save this Sunnydale? In the other world, she had sacrificed herself and saved Dawn and she’d been prepared to do that this time, as well. But not Spike! Surely the man she loved didn’t have to die?
“Buffy! Some of these guys are waking up!” From under his brown hood, Xander’s voice was quaking, but he hadn’t moved and Buffy felt her heart go out to them. These weren’t fighters in this world; okay, Willow was a witch, but Tara and Xander were just ordinary people who happened to be her friends. And in that moment she knew she had to leave Spike. There was no way these three were going to be able to fight their way out of the hotel whilst protecting Faith.
A great coldness flooded over her. So she was as much the Slayer in this world as the other, she thought bitterly. Why had she ever thought it might be different? She’d been able to save Dawn before by sacrificing herself, but this time was different. Ben didn’t want her blood, he wanted an unborn infant, a Slayer’s child, but not hers.
And, she realised, fighting back the tears that threatened to blind her, if Spike died, she wouldn’t even have his child. She wasn’t pregnant; it was Faith who carried the Key baby, not her.
“OK, let’s move!” she snapped and half led, half carried Faith up another staircase, through a door and into the cold air. To her surprise, it was daylight outside, a dull, sullen day; no sun in the sky, just heavy grey clouds and a bitter cold breeze that blew dust in her face.
A hundred yards away from the hotel, she stopped and gazed back. All was quiet; no one seemed to have realised they were gone. Then, just as she turned away, she heard shouting and yelling and knew Ben had discovered his Key baby had vanished.
Buffy never remembered much of their race home. She knew she couldn’t have done it without Xander’s help. Grim faced, tight-lipped and obviously scared out of his mind, he still helped her support Faith and came up with the idea that they go back to Revello Drive, rather than Willow’s house.
“They know where Willow lives. They’ll think she’ll go straight home,” he said, panting as they hurried along the main Sunnydale road. “They don’t know about Revello. Ben was never interested in you, Buffy. He just wanted the baby this girl is carrying.”
Buffy nodded and, as if in a dream, efficiently hustled the group inside and slamming and locking the door behind her.
Faith collapsed onto the sofa, trying to catch her breath. She was now very pale and obviously in pain. Tara helped her swing her feet up and sat, stroking her long black hair as the contractions racked her body.
“Buffy, this baby is coming soon,” she said. “What shall we do?”
Buffy was staring blankly at the wall; her whole body was taut with anguish. Oh god, she’d left Spike behind. She’d had no choice, but it didn’t make the pain any better. Was he still alive? She searched her heart and knew he was. She would sense immediately if he’d been dusted. All she could sense was pain and more pain, but not death, not the emptiness in her soul that she knew she would feel if he’d gone from her.
She wondered what he was thinking now. He’d been quite clear when the monks had dragged him away. He’d wanted her to save the baby, to stop Ben getting his evil hands on the Key and plunge this universe into the chaos Glory had wanted for the other Sunnydale.
But she also knew he would believe in her. Some part of him would never admit that she would leave him to his fate. And he would be wrong.
She stared at Faith. The girl was obviously well along in labour now. The green glow was pulsing across her stomach in great ripples of colour. The Key baby was on its way.
“You can’t have the baby in this world,” Buffy said suddenly. “Ben will sense it. Know the Key has arrived. If you’re not here, if the Key isn’t in this world, then he’ll have to go. There’ll be no point in him staying around.”
Faith gazed up at her, dark eyes glazed but still intense. “Where will he go?”
Buffy shrugged and tied back the blonde hair that had escaped from its ponytail, pulling it back from her temples so hard that the skin stretched white under the strain. But she welcomed the pain. She wanted to feel something, anything, to share with Spike.
“I don’t care, as long as it’s away from here. I can’t kill him. But I can take away what he truly wants and needs. Your baby.”
“And where do you reckon I can go like this?” Faith gasped. “I don’t think I can even get in a car, B. And where would we drive? This baby is going to arrive within minutes. There’s no time to escape from Ben.”
Buffy walked across the kitchen and kicked over the bucket that still stood over the whirling orange and purple portal. She stood, staring down at it. “You come home with me,” she said quietly.
Willow shook her head. “Buffy, there’s already a Faith in your world.”
“And she’s a Slayer, like this one. And she’s in prison. I just need this Faith to have her baby in safety, then she can come back here.”
“What happens to the baby?” Tara asked softly.
Buffy looked down at Faith. “There isn‘t any choice. The baby will have to stay with us in the other Sunnydale. There is no way we can let the Key live in this world, if you want to save it from Ben.”
Faith struggled to her feet, reaching out to take Xander’s help as he heaved her upright. “OK, B. I can deal with that. It doesn’t seem like my baby, anyway. Just something I’m carrying for someone else. You want it, you can have it.”
Buffy laughed bitterly. “Oh, I don’t want your baby, Faith. I’ve got a sister who was a Key. I know what’s in store for the kid. But it can’t live here in this world. If you want to come back, you can, but the baby can’t.”
“Buffy – ” Willow was almost pleading. “Spike – ”
The Slayer spun round, her face blank of all emotion. “I can’t help Spike now, Will. There’s no choice. Perhaps there never was. Once this baby is safe, perhaps I can come back and – ”
She stopped abruptly. What was the use? Spike would be dead. And before he died, he would have known that she left him to his fate. Oh, he’d know why, even agree with what she was doing, but that wouldn‘t make any difference. At some level he would know she had abandoned him.
“Keep out of sight, Will. Ben will be hunting for Faith and the baby, but if there’s no trace of her, then he’ll eventually have to go.”
She hugged her friends briefly. There was no time for long goodbyes. Taking Faith by the hand, she gazed round just once at the dirty, shabby kitchen, so different to the one at home. Would she ever be back? What would be the point? She’d lost the man she loved more than life herself, but Slayer’s had to go on, however desperate they felt.
Coldly she pushed all her emotions and feelings into a corner of her brain and locked them away. She refused to think about Spike any more. It was too painful, too dangerous.
The portal beckoned, and with Faith at her side, Buffy stepped into it and the two of them vanished.
Tara was sobbing quietly in Xander’s arms. Willow sank onto the floor, head in hands. “She’s gone,” she said wearily. “And I don’t think we’ll ever see her again.”
“Do you think the Faith girl will return?” Xander asked.
Willow shrugged. “Yes, probably she will. She’ll have the baby, leave it with Buffy and come back to be our Slayer. Perhaps without the Key, she’ll find a way to deal with Ben – if he‘s still here.”
Xander moved the shutters slightly and peered out at the street. “I may be imagining it, but it seems a bit lighter out there,” he said, realising that for the first time in months, he didn’t want a drink. Which was way weird when you remembered exactly what he’d been through during the past few hours.
Tara wiped her eyes with her fingers and tried a smile. “Perhaps Buffy is right, then. If Ben can’t sense the Key in this world, then he won’t stay. He’ll go somewhere else.”
“Poor Buffy. Poor Spike,” Willow muttered. “What is she going to do without him?”
There was a long silence, then Tara said, “At least she’ll have the baby.”
“Oh yes, raising someone else’s kid, who isn’t really human but a mass of green energy, that’ll be fun for her. And every time she looks at it, she’ll know she sacrificed the man she loved for it to live.”
Tara shook her head, puzzled. “No, I don’t mean Faith’s baby! I mean hers and Spike’s.”
“Whoa! You mean Buffy’s having a baby, too!” Xander looked stunned.
Tara smiled for the first time in hours. “Oh yes. I don’t know why she’s keeping it a secret, except she’s only just started.”
Willow looked up at her sharply. “You mean another Key baby? She and Faith are both carrying green energy kids?”
Tara shook her head. “Oh no! Buffy’s carrying a perfectly normal child.”
To be continued
Chp 14 Right or Wrong
“Willow! Xander! Faith, let him up! He’s a friend of mine. His name’s Xander!”
The heavily pregnant, dark-haired girl rolled clumsily off the body beneath her, wincing as the baby kicked, agitated by all the excitement. Buffy could see Willow’s eyes widen at the sight of the glowing green light showing under the robes the other Slayer was wearing.
“What the hell are you doing here? No, never mind. I’m just so pleased to see you both,” Buffy whispered and reached down to effortlessly lift Xander to his feet. “How did you get past the guards?”
Willow smiled weakly. “I’d forgotten just how much magic I can conjure up when I put my mind to it,” she said. “I made them fall asleep. I…I couldn’t kill them, Buffy. I wanted to!” She swayed where she stood, remembering Oz’s dead, twisted body. “Oh god, I wanted to so much! But I couldn’t. They’ll wake up soon.”
“We’d better not be here then, B,” Faith said.
“Who’s this?” Willow asked.
“Her name‘s Faith,” Buffy replied briefly, opening the door and peering out into the corridor. “She’s a Slayer. She’s the one having a baby. She’s carrying the Key, the thing Ben wants more than anything.”
Xander stared apprehensively at the pregnant girl. “Buffy, she can’t be. You’re not dead.” He reached out to pinch her arm. “You’re not, are you?”
Buffy felt her nerve endings rip in pain and knew that somewhere, Ben was torturing Spike. Nausea filled her throat and she battled it back. She had to get to him, rescue him, but first of all she had to get Faith to safety.
“I don‘t understand it, either, Xander. But here she is and she‘s carrying the Key baby that Ben needs to open his portal into another reality. This is what this whole thing has been about. He needs to get home.”
“ET phone home,” Xander muttered and then wished he hadn’t as the three girls glared at him.
“Tara’s keeping look-out on the stairway,” Willow said as they slipped out of the door into a long dark corridor. “I don’t know how long the guards will stay asleep, Buffy. We need to hurry.”
They reached a flight of step stones that twisted round out of sight. Buffy led the way, stepping cautiously over the snoring bodies of Ben’s guards who were lying everywhere. At the top of the stairs, Tara stood, her face very white, almost shaking with fear. She gasped with relief when she saw them all.
“Oh thank God, Xander, are you all right? Buffy?”
“We’re OK, Tara. What’s happening?”
“The g…guards are st…still asleep!” she gasped, reaching out for Xander’s hand. “But one or two of them are groaning and rolling about. They could wake up at any moment. I was so scared!”
Despite her unhappiness, Buffy smiled briefly. She knew only too well that to act when you were frightened was far braver than rushing into action when you weren’t scared of anything. She appreciated deeply what her friends in this world had done for her.
“Willow – Xander. Listen, take Faith and get the hell out of here,” she said tersely.
“B, you have to come too,” Faith gasped as pain rippled across her face. “Ben will kill you without thinking once he knows we’ve escaped.”
Buffy shook her head. “I’m not leaving Spike here,” she said softly glancing across at the vast wooden door that led to the Great Hall. She was certain that was where they were holding the vampire. Where they were torturing him, not for information or revenge, but just because it gave them a warped sense of amusement. “He wouldn’t leave me and I won’t abandon him.”
“But Buffy, how on earth are you going to rescue him?” Faith said. “Ben’s a god and you can’t seriously think you’re going to get the vampire away from him with the help of these three amateurs!”
Buffy stared at her in disgust. “Well, they’ve just saved us, Faith, so not such amateurs now. But don’t worry, I’m going in on my own.”
“Buffy!” Willow grasped her arm, her eyes dark with worry and fear. “Isn’t it more important to make sure Faith and her baby are safe? ”
Buffy hesitated, almost unable to bear the pain that was tearing through her mind. Leave Spike to his fate? Was that what she had to do to save this Sunnydale? In the other world, she had sacrificed herself and saved Dawn and she’d been prepared to do that this time, as well. But not Spike! Surely the man she loved didn’t have to die?
“Buffy! Some of these guys are waking up!” From under his brown hood, Xander’s voice was quaking, but he hadn’t moved and Buffy felt her heart go out to them. These weren’t fighters in this world; okay, Willow was a witch, but Tara and Xander were just ordinary people who happened to be her friends. And in that moment she knew she had to leave Spike. There was no way these three were going to be able to fight their way out of the hotel whilst protecting Faith.
A great coldness flooded over her. So she was as much the Slayer in this world as the other, she thought bitterly. Why had she ever thought it might be different? She’d been able to save Dawn before by sacrificing herself, but this time was different. Ben didn’t want her blood, he wanted an unborn infant, a Slayer’s child, but not hers.
And, she realised, fighting back the tears that threatened to blind her, if Spike died, she wouldn’t even have his child. She wasn’t pregnant; it was Faith who carried the Key baby, not her.
“OK, let’s move!” she snapped and half led, half carried Faith up another staircase, through a door and into the cold air. To her surprise, it was daylight outside, a dull, sullen day; no sun in the sky, just heavy grey clouds and a bitter cold breeze that blew dust in her face.
A hundred yards away from the hotel, she stopped and gazed back. All was quiet; no one seemed to have realised they were gone. Then, just as she turned away, she heard shouting and yelling and knew Ben had discovered his Key baby had vanished.
Buffy never remembered much of their race home. She knew she couldn’t have done it without Xander’s help. Grim faced, tight-lipped and obviously scared out of his mind, he still helped her support Faith and came up with the idea that they go back to Revello Drive, rather than Willow’s house.
“They know where Willow lives. They’ll think she’ll go straight home,” he said, panting as they hurried along the main Sunnydale road. “They don’t know about Revello. Ben was never interested in you, Buffy. He just wanted the baby this girl is carrying.”
Buffy nodded and, as if in a dream, efficiently hustled the group inside and slamming and locking the door behind her.
Faith collapsed onto the sofa, trying to catch her breath. She was now very pale and obviously in pain. Tara helped her swing her feet up and sat, stroking her long black hair as the contractions racked her body.
“Buffy, this baby is coming soon,” she said. “What shall we do?”
Buffy was staring blankly at the wall; her whole body was taut with anguish. Oh god, she’d left Spike behind. She’d had no choice, but it didn’t make the pain any better. Was he still alive? She searched her heart and knew he was. She would sense immediately if he’d been dusted. All she could sense was pain and more pain, but not death, not the emptiness in her soul that she knew she would feel if he’d gone from her.
She wondered what he was thinking now. He’d been quite clear when the monks had dragged him away. He’d wanted her to save the baby, to stop Ben getting his evil hands on the Key and plunge this universe into the chaos Glory had wanted for the other Sunnydale.
But she also knew he would believe in her. Some part of him would never admit that she would leave him to his fate. And he would be wrong.
She stared at Faith. The girl was obviously well along in labour now. The green glow was pulsing across her stomach in great ripples of colour. The Key baby was on its way.
“You can’t have the baby in this world,” Buffy said suddenly. “Ben will sense it. Know the Key has arrived. If you’re not here, if the Key isn’t in this world, then he’ll have to go. There’ll be no point in him staying around.”
Faith gazed up at her, dark eyes glazed but still intense. “Where will he go?”
Buffy shrugged and tied back the blonde hair that had escaped from its ponytail, pulling it back from her temples so hard that the skin stretched white under the strain. But she welcomed the pain. She wanted to feel something, anything, to share with Spike.
“I don’t care, as long as it’s away from here. I can’t kill him. But I can take away what he truly wants and needs. Your baby.”
“And where do you reckon I can go like this?” Faith gasped. “I don’t think I can even get in a car, B. And where would we drive? This baby is going to arrive within minutes. There’s no time to escape from Ben.”
Buffy walked across the kitchen and kicked over the bucket that still stood over the whirling orange and purple portal. She stood, staring down at it. “You come home with me,” she said quietly.
Willow shook her head. “Buffy, there’s already a Faith in your world.”
“And she’s a Slayer, like this one. And she’s in prison. I just need this Faith to have her baby in safety, then she can come back here.”
“What happens to the baby?” Tara asked softly.
Buffy looked down at Faith. “There isn‘t any choice. The baby will have to stay with us in the other Sunnydale. There is no way we can let the Key live in this world, if you want to save it from Ben.”
Faith struggled to her feet, reaching out to take Xander’s help as he heaved her upright. “OK, B. I can deal with that. It doesn’t seem like my baby, anyway. Just something I’m carrying for someone else. You want it, you can have it.”
Buffy laughed bitterly. “Oh, I don’t want your baby, Faith. I’ve got a sister who was a Key. I know what’s in store for the kid. But it can’t live here in this world. If you want to come back, you can, but the baby can’t.”
“Buffy – ” Willow was almost pleading. “Spike – ”
The Slayer spun round, her face blank of all emotion. “I can’t help Spike now, Will. There’s no choice. Perhaps there never was. Once this baby is safe, perhaps I can come back and – ”
She stopped abruptly. What was the use? Spike would be dead. And before he died, he would have known that she left him to his fate. Oh, he’d know why, even agree with what she was doing, but that wouldn‘t make any difference. At some level he would know she had abandoned him.
“Keep out of sight, Will. Ben will be hunting for Faith and the baby, but if there’s no trace of her, then he’ll eventually have to go.”
She hugged her friends briefly. There was no time for long goodbyes. Taking Faith by the hand, she gazed round just once at the dirty, shabby kitchen, so different to the one at home. Would she ever be back? What would be the point? She’d lost the man she loved more than life herself, but Slayer’s had to go on, however desperate they felt.
Coldly she pushed all her emotions and feelings into a corner of her brain and locked them away. She refused to think about Spike any more. It was too painful, too dangerous.
The portal beckoned, and with Faith at her side, Buffy stepped into it and the two of them vanished.
Tara was sobbing quietly in Xander’s arms. Willow sank onto the floor, head in hands. “She’s gone,” she said wearily. “And I don’t think we’ll ever see her again.”
“Do you think the Faith girl will return?” Xander asked.
Willow shrugged. “Yes, probably she will. She’ll have the baby, leave it with Buffy and come back to be our Slayer. Perhaps without the Key, she’ll find a way to deal with Ben – if he‘s still here.”
Xander moved the shutters slightly and peered out at the street. “I may be imagining it, but it seems a bit lighter out there,” he said, realising that for the first time in months, he didn’t want a drink. Which was way weird when you remembered exactly what he’d been through during the past few hours.
Tara wiped her eyes with her fingers and tried a smile. “Perhaps Buffy is right, then. If Ben can’t sense the Key in this world, then he won’t stay. He’ll go somewhere else.”
“Poor Buffy. Poor Spike,” Willow muttered. “What is she going to do without him?”
There was a long silence, then Tara said, “At least she’ll have the baby.”
“Oh yes, raising someone else’s kid, who isn’t really human but a mass of green energy, that’ll be fun for her. And every time she looks at it, she’ll know she sacrificed the man she loved for it to live.”
Tara shook her head, puzzled. “No, I don’t mean Faith’s baby! I mean hers and Spike’s.”
“Whoa! You mean Buffy’s having a baby, too!” Xander looked stunned.
Tara smiled for the first time in hours. “Oh yes. I don’t know why she’s keeping it a secret, except she’s only just started.”
Willow looked up at her sharply. “You mean another Key baby? She and Faith are both carrying green energy kids?”
Tara shook her head. “Oh no! Buffy’s carrying a perfectly normal child.”
To be continued
Chp 15 Give me Something....
Something to Sing About
Chp 15 Give me Something….
Buffy stood in the bedroom doorway, staring at the love-in happening in front of her eyes. It was amazing that one small person could create such havoc, but Faith’s baby had done just that.
She was now installed in the crib Xander had built for her, lying like a princess under a white lace canopy bought by her doting Auntie Dawn.
Dawn looked up from where was kneeling by the side of the crib, her long black hair swinging like a shining curtain. “Buffy, she has to have a name. We can’t go on calling her Baby.”
“Have you asked Faith?”
Dawn bit her lip. “She just shrugs and says she’ll leave it to me. But Buffy, she isn’t my baby. I can’t just decide on her name.”
Buffy smiled. The glow in her sister’s face was amazing to see. She hadn’t looked like this since their Mom had died. Even as Buffy watched, Dawn slid a finger into the crib and a tiny, starfish hand reached out and grabbed it. Key to Key. The link was frighteningly obvious to everyone, including Faith. Baby stopped crying when Dawn was holding her; baby took her bottle from Dawn and refused it from everyone else. Baby’s gaze followed Dawn round the room, no matter what people said about this being impossible in such a tiny baby.
“If Faith doesn’t mind, then go ahead – as long as it isn’t anything dreadful like Madonna or Britney!”
Dawn glared at her, then turned her attention back to the Key baby. Buffy tried to feel happy, and she almost succeeded – almost. Because hey, yes, she was happy for Dawn, happy for the rest of the Scoobies who seemed to think this new arrival the best thing since sliced bread.
Why was she the only one who had to cope with this tearing sense of loss? The knowledge that she’d saved the other Sunnydale from Ben, but at what cost. Spike’s life. Because he must be dead by now. There was no way Ben would have let him live once he’d realised the Key baby had finally gone. And he would have been dusted knowing that she had left him behind, left him to die alone. No matter that he had told her to go, wanted her to get Faith and the baby away from Ben, somewhere in his heart before it exploded, would have been the knowledge that she had turned her back on him. That no matter what she said and felt, he would never come first.
And she didn’t even have the consolation of his child to comfort her. No one would ever know how hard it had been to see Faith safely through her labour; to see the new born baby girl and know that Spike’s child had never been growing inside her.
Locked away somewhere in her heart she would never look, were memories of those few hours when she’d thought she was pregnant. The fear, the despair, the joy of having their baby. But it had never existed. And now Spike was gone.
The reaction from her friends had been what she’d expected. Willow had looked sorry, but there was a dark edge to her gaze that diluted the pity. Xander – well, he’d looked positively cheerful and it had been all Buffy could manage not to punch him on his nose.
Only Tara had had a kind word and real tears in her eyes at the news. “I liked him, Buffy,” she‘d stammered. “I’ve no idea why, but he made me laugh.”
As for Dawn – Buffy sighed. The arrival of the baby had detracted from Spike’s fate. Oh, she’d cried when she’d first been told, but luckily the resilience of youth and a wriggling seven pound bundle of Key had helped her through.
“Gracie! I think her name is Gracie,” Dawn said suddenly and glanced up at her sister, her face very young and uncertain. “Is that - ?“
Buffy found herself smiling. “That’s great, Dawn. Gracie she is, then.”
She left them together and went downstairs. Faith was walking round and round the kitchen, her tension obvious to see. She’d cut her long dark hair very short just after the baby had been born. Annoyingly, it made her look even prettier. “Your daughter is now called Gracie,” Buffy said. “Hope you approve.”
The other Slayer glanced at her. “Gracie – yes, five by five with me, B. Is Dawn with her?”
Buffy nodded, poured herself a cup of coffee then screwed up her face at the smell and poured it away. Ever since she’d returned, food and drink had smelt strange to her. “But Faith, she can’t look after her full time! She’s only fifteen. She’s got school, then college. I don’t want her giving up her life for Gracie – I’m sorry, but she’s my sister and – ”
“They’re both Key made,” Faith broke in impatiently. “You just trying getting Gracie away from Dawn, B. It won’t work.”
Buffy felt her irritation level rising. This Faith was just as annoying as the one who was still languishing in prison. It was the arrogance, the belief that what she said and thought was right and no one else mattered.
“She’s not going to give up her education to bring up your baby,” Buffy snapped. “The authorities wouldn’t allow it, anyway. Gracie has just appeared in this Sunnydale, remember. People know she isn’t Dawn’s. No one‘s memories have been altered this time. There’s no paperwork for her. In this world, the monks haven’t been involved.”
Faith turned and gazed out of the window. “I can’t take her back, B. I can’t risk Ben getting hold of her. You know that.”
Buffy nodded. “Yes, of course I know. She has to stay here – and – ”
“And I’ve got to return – and soon.”
“When you’re strong enough. A couple more weeks. There‘s no point in chancing a fight with Ben while you’re weak.”
Faith shook her head. “Two more days. Then I go. I shouldn’t be here. It’s making me feel weird, two of us Faiths alive in the same world. I don’t understand why you and Spike were only allowed to live in one world or the other and I’m not. Hey, Slayer here. Why don’t the same rules apply to me?”
Buffy shrugged, wearily. She felt bone tired but knew it was because of the dragging despair she felt over losing Spike. There was nothing to be tired about otherwise. The vampire and demon population of this Sunnydale seemed to be having a brief holiday at the moment. She patrolled every night but rarely needed to do more than break into a slight sweat.
No, she was tired because she’d lost someone who’d been close to her and she’d never realised how important he’d become. And in the other Sunnydale she’d have been able to grieve, cry, talk to Willow and Tara and Xander about their friend, because they’d lost him, too, and would be feeling sad.
What had she sung, that time with the demon Sweet? Give me Something to Sing About? Yeah, great. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting to sing ever again. Spike had said, she had to go on living, so that one of them was living. That was easy to do when he was there. Almost impossible now he’d gone.
The idea hit her as she shrugged on her denim jacket and set out on her evening patrol. Her feet took her, almost of their own volition, to the graveyard where the swirling orange and purple circle still spun behind a huge stone headstone. Xander had piled branches and rubbish over the top of it but as she nudged it tentatively with her foot, the pile fell apart and there was the entry to the other Sunnydale.
Temptation ached through her limbs. She wouldn’t be missed in this world. She knew when she came back it would be only a few minutes after she left. What could happen in that time? Nothing. But in the other Sunnydale, she could find out once and for all what had happened to Spike and grieve with her friends for the man they had loved. And no one would look at her with astonishment or anger about her feelings for the vampire.
Yes, just for once she was going to put herself first. This world could do without a Slayer for a short while. She‘d stay just as long as it took to tie up the loose ends that slapped endlessly, painfully in her mind. And before she could change her mind, she stepped into the whirling circle and vanished.
An hour later the moon appeared, sailing up into the indigo coloured sky. Two newly risen vamps were laughing and joking, playing tag round the cemetery. They tried to skid to a halt when they found the portal but couldn’t stop and with yells of terror, fell through.
The moon as at its highest another hour later when a slim, dark girl walked rapidly across the grass, leaping graves effortlessly. Faith had just spent an hour holding Gracie and knew with every fibre of her body, that she couldn’t do the mother thing.
No, she had to get home. Buffy would sort something out. She always did. OK, if she didn’t want Dawn to look after the baby, then she’d surely find someone else. Tara, maybe. But that was up to them. She’d made her decision and it was far easier to leave now in the middle of the night when there was no one to query her decision.
She pulled a face when she found the portal uncovered. She thought Xander had said he’d covered it up. That guy was a menace. She pulled a large flat stone across the portal to protect it from casual passersby, then squeezed herself down into the little bit remaining.
For a few seconds she had the distinctly nasty and odd sensation of being in two worlds at the same time, then -
In the corner of a dirty, dusky kitchen, the sullen slow whirling of the portal between the two Sunnydales suddenly burst into life. It spread, throwing out orange and purple sparks, whirling faster and faster, almost as if it couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow down.
A slim figure catapulted through, somersaulting through the air and landing on her feet. Faith crouched, gazing round her, safety and caution her first concern.
But nothing moved in the kitchen and she could sense there was no danger close by. She stood up, absentmindedly running her hand over her flat stomach. Would she miss the baby? What was its name? Oh yes, Gracie. She knew she ought to feel something – regret, sorrow, grief, all words that people had been muttering for the past few days behind her back.
But she felt none of them. She refused to be anything but honest with herself, because if you told yourself lies, what was the point? She’d got pregnant with a mystical baby, a few hours of pain had produced said baby that stopped glowing green, thank god, the second it arrived.
She’d stared down at the dark eyed, dark haired kid and felt – nothing. Not even relief that it had arrived. And the kid had stared back at her. It was pointless people telling her that babies couldn‘t see or even focus when they were first born. This infant had stared straight into her mother‘s eyes, blinked as if to say, ‘what the heck’ and looked away. Bonding? Not so much.
Behind her, the portal spun even faster, then gave a splutter of sparks, faded, made a last ditch effort to keep open and then gave up and popped shut. Faith didn’t even turn to glance at it – she marched to the door and headed out to discover exactly what was happening in her Sunnydale.
And she was so caught up in the pleasure being home gave her, she never noticed three more sets of footprints in the dust on the kitchen floor.
To be continued
Chp 15 Give me Something….
Buffy stood in the bedroom doorway, staring at the love-in happening in front of her eyes. It was amazing that one small person could create such havoc, but Faith’s baby had done just that.
She was now installed in the crib Xander had built for her, lying like a princess under a white lace canopy bought by her doting Auntie Dawn.
Dawn looked up from where was kneeling by the side of the crib, her long black hair swinging like a shining curtain. “Buffy, she has to have a name. We can’t go on calling her Baby.”
“Have you asked Faith?”
Dawn bit her lip. “She just shrugs and says she’ll leave it to me. But Buffy, she isn’t my baby. I can’t just decide on her name.”
Buffy smiled. The glow in her sister’s face was amazing to see. She hadn’t looked like this since their Mom had died. Even as Buffy watched, Dawn slid a finger into the crib and a tiny, starfish hand reached out and grabbed it. Key to Key. The link was frighteningly obvious to everyone, including Faith. Baby stopped crying when Dawn was holding her; baby took her bottle from Dawn and refused it from everyone else. Baby’s gaze followed Dawn round the room, no matter what people said about this being impossible in such a tiny baby.
“If Faith doesn’t mind, then go ahead – as long as it isn’t anything dreadful like Madonna or Britney!”
Dawn glared at her, then turned her attention back to the Key baby. Buffy tried to feel happy, and she almost succeeded – almost. Because hey, yes, she was happy for Dawn, happy for the rest of the Scoobies who seemed to think this new arrival the best thing since sliced bread.
Why was she the only one who had to cope with this tearing sense of loss? The knowledge that she’d saved the other Sunnydale from Ben, but at what cost. Spike’s life. Because he must be dead by now. There was no way Ben would have let him live once he’d realised the Key baby had finally gone. And he would have been dusted knowing that she had left him behind, left him to die alone. No matter that he had told her to go, wanted her to get Faith and the baby away from Ben, somewhere in his heart before it exploded, would have been the knowledge that she had turned her back on him. That no matter what she said and felt, he would never come first.
And she didn’t even have the consolation of his child to comfort her. No one would ever know how hard it had been to see Faith safely through her labour; to see the new born baby girl and know that Spike’s child had never been growing inside her.
Locked away somewhere in her heart she would never look, were memories of those few hours when she’d thought she was pregnant. The fear, the despair, the joy of having their baby. But it had never existed. And now Spike was gone.
The reaction from her friends had been what she’d expected. Willow had looked sorry, but there was a dark edge to her gaze that diluted the pity. Xander – well, he’d looked positively cheerful and it had been all Buffy could manage not to punch him on his nose.
Only Tara had had a kind word and real tears in her eyes at the news. “I liked him, Buffy,” she‘d stammered. “I’ve no idea why, but he made me laugh.”
As for Dawn – Buffy sighed. The arrival of the baby had detracted from Spike’s fate. Oh, she’d cried when she’d first been told, but luckily the resilience of youth and a wriggling seven pound bundle of Key had helped her through.
“Gracie! I think her name is Gracie,” Dawn said suddenly and glanced up at her sister, her face very young and uncertain. “Is that - ?“
Buffy found herself smiling. “That’s great, Dawn. Gracie she is, then.”
She left them together and went downstairs. Faith was walking round and round the kitchen, her tension obvious to see. She’d cut her long dark hair very short just after the baby had been born. Annoyingly, it made her look even prettier. “Your daughter is now called Gracie,” Buffy said. “Hope you approve.”
The other Slayer glanced at her. “Gracie – yes, five by five with me, B. Is Dawn with her?”
Buffy nodded, poured herself a cup of coffee then screwed up her face at the smell and poured it away. Ever since she’d returned, food and drink had smelt strange to her. “But Faith, she can’t look after her full time! She’s only fifteen. She’s got school, then college. I don’t want her giving up her life for Gracie – I’m sorry, but she’s my sister and – ”
“They’re both Key made,” Faith broke in impatiently. “You just trying getting Gracie away from Dawn, B. It won’t work.”
Buffy felt her irritation level rising. This Faith was just as annoying as the one who was still languishing in prison. It was the arrogance, the belief that what she said and thought was right and no one else mattered.
“She’s not going to give up her education to bring up your baby,” Buffy snapped. “The authorities wouldn’t allow it, anyway. Gracie has just appeared in this Sunnydale, remember. People know she isn’t Dawn’s. No one‘s memories have been altered this time. There’s no paperwork for her. In this world, the monks haven’t been involved.”
Faith turned and gazed out of the window. “I can’t take her back, B. I can’t risk Ben getting hold of her. You know that.”
Buffy nodded. “Yes, of course I know. She has to stay here – and – ”
“And I’ve got to return – and soon.”
“When you’re strong enough. A couple more weeks. There‘s no point in chancing a fight with Ben while you’re weak.”
Faith shook her head. “Two more days. Then I go. I shouldn’t be here. It’s making me feel weird, two of us Faiths alive in the same world. I don’t understand why you and Spike were only allowed to live in one world or the other and I’m not. Hey, Slayer here. Why don’t the same rules apply to me?”
Buffy shrugged, wearily. She felt bone tired but knew it was because of the dragging despair she felt over losing Spike. There was nothing to be tired about otherwise. The vampire and demon population of this Sunnydale seemed to be having a brief holiday at the moment. She patrolled every night but rarely needed to do more than break into a slight sweat.
No, she was tired because she’d lost someone who’d been close to her and she’d never realised how important he’d become. And in the other Sunnydale she’d have been able to grieve, cry, talk to Willow and Tara and Xander about their friend, because they’d lost him, too, and would be feeling sad.
What had she sung, that time with the demon Sweet? Give me Something to Sing About? Yeah, great. She couldn’t imagine ever wanting to sing ever again. Spike had said, she had to go on living, so that one of them was living. That was easy to do when he was there. Almost impossible now he’d gone.
The idea hit her as she shrugged on her denim jacket and set out on her evening patrol. Her feet took her, almost of their own volition, to the graveyard where the swirling orange and purple circle still spun behind a huge stone headstone. Xander had piled branches and rubbish over the top of it but as she nudged it tentatively with her foot, the pile fell apart and there was the entry to the other Sunnydale.
Temptation ached through her limbs. She wouldn’t be missed in this world. She knew when she came back it would be only a few minutes after she left. What could happen in that time? Nothing. But in the other Sunnydale, she could find out once and for all what had happened to Spike and grieve with her friends for the man they had loved. And no one would look at her with astonishment or anger about her feelings for the vampire.
Yes, just for once she was going to put herself first. This world could do without a Slayer for a short while. She‘d stay just as long as it took to tie up the loose ends that slapped endlessly, painfully in her mind. And before she could change her mind, she stepped into the whirling circle and vanished.
An hour later the moon appeared, sailing up into the indigo coloured sky. Two newly risen vamps were laughing and joking, playing tag round the cemetery. They tried to skid to a halt when they found the portal but couldn’t stop and with yells of terror, fell through.
The moon as at its highest another hour later when a slim, dark girl walked rapidly across the grass, leaping graves effortlessly. Faith had just spent an hour holding Gracie and knew with every fibre of her body, that she couldn’t do the mother thing.
No, she had to get home. Buffy would sort something out. She always did. OK, if she didn’t want Dawn to look after the baby, then she’d surely find someone else. Tara, maybe. But that was up to them. She’d made her decision and it was far easier to leave now in the middle of the night when there was no one to query her decision.
She pulled a face when she found the portal uncovered. She thought Xander had said he’d covered it up. That guy was a menace. She pulled a large flat stone across the portal to protect it from casual passersby, then squeezed herself down into the little bit remaining.
For a few seconds she had the distinctly nasty and odd sensation of being in two worlds at the same time, then -
In the corner of a dirty, dusky kitchen, the sullen slow whirling of the portal between the two Sunnydales suddenly burst into life. It spread, throwing out orange and purple sparks, whirling faster and faster, almost as if it couldn’t stop, couldn’t slow down.
A slim figure catapulted through, somersaulting through the air and landing on her feet. Faith crouched, gazing round her, safety and caution her first concern.
But nothing moved in the kitchen and she could sense there was no danger close by. She stood up, absentmindedly running her hand over her flat stomach. Would she miss the baby? What was its name? Oh yes, Gracie. She knew she ought to feel something – regret, sorrow, grief, all words that people had been muttering for the past few days behind her back.
But she felt none of them. She refused to be anything but honest with herself, because if you told yourself lies, what was the point? She’d got pregnant with a mystical baby, a few hours of pain had produced said baby that stopped glowing green, thank god, the second it arrived.
She’d stared down at the dark eyed, dark haired kid and felt – nothing. Not even relief that it had arrived. And the kid had stared back at her. It was pointless people telling her that babies couldn‘t see or even focus when they were first born. This infant had stared straight into her mother‘s eyes, blinked as if to say, ‘what the heck’ and looked away. Bonding? Not so much.
Behind her, the portal spun even faster, then gave a splutter of sparks, faded, made a last ditch effort to keep open and then gave up and popped shut. Faith didn’t even turn to glance at it – she marched to the door and headed out to discover exactly what was happening in her Sunnydale.
And she was so caught up in the pleasure being home gave her, she never noticed three more sets of footprints in the dust on the kitchen floor.
To be continued
Chp 16 Catching Up
Something to Sing About
Chp 16 Catching Up
The first thing Buffy noticed this time about the other Sunnydale as she came through the portal was that the sun was shining! It poured in through the half drawn curtains of the house on Revello Drive, lighting the spirals of dust that lay on the carpet, golden specks floating in the beams.
Buffy pulled a face. She felt weary and a little sick; hurtling through the portal had upset her stomach again. The fact that her house was looking so neglected didn’t make her feel any better. She and housework had never been best friends, but this was beyond bad.
Outside the warmth of the afternoon sun hit her face in a welcome home blaze. There was a letter in the mail-box – from her mom. It gave her a gut churning moment to see the handwriting, know that Joyce Summers had written the words, posted this envelope. That she wasn’t dead, but happily, healthily alive.
Buffy stood on the sidewalk, reading greedily. In this world, of course, her mom was living with her sister, happy and contented with her life. Here were details of a new car, her job at the local tourist centre, a funny day out with neighbours, a date with a nice man she’d met at the library, when was Buffy coming to visit and did she realise there was something wrong with her phone because no one ever returned her calls? Was she OK?
The words blurred as the tears began. Buffy wondered why she’d never made any attempt to contact this Joyce Summers. But in her heart of hearts she knew the answer. She couldn’t have born to see her mom alive and well, knowing she was dead in the other world.
Did that make her a dreadful daughter? No, just a damaged one, she thought wearily.
But this Joyce is worrying about you, a little voice inside her head said stubbornly. You have to speak to her – or at least write. Tell her you’re off to Tibet, or England, anything so she won’t worry for a few months. Because that was one of the weird things about the two universes. Weeks had passed in the original Sunnydale since she and Faith had returned there, but here – it was only a couple of days later.
She stared along the street, aware with a growing sense of thankfulness that things were very different from the last time she’d been here. People walking, cars and vans passing by, a couple of dogs barking in a fenced in yard, a guy up a ladder mending a power line. Life was obviously back to normal and that could only mean one thing – Ben had gone.
The walk through Sunnydale to Willow’s home convinced Buffy that the hellgod had indeed left town. The roaming gangs of zombie like figures had vanished and in the children’s play area, mothers sat watching little ones toddling around the sandpit. There was no way the children would have been let out if Ben had still been around.
“Buffy!” Tara had opened the door and gazed at Buffy, her face glowing with welcome. She looked happier, far less careworn than she had a few weeks ago, although to her, of course, only a few days had passed since Buffy had half carried the heavily pregnant Faith back through the portal.
“Tara! Hi. Can I come in?”
“Yes, of course. I just wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. Willow and Xander will be thrilled. Xander has work; a new mall just out of town. I’m not certain where Willow has gone. But come in. Can I get you a coffee, a cola? Something to eat?’
Buffy shook her head and sank down on the squishy sofa in the family room. “So, how is everything? Sunnydale looks good. Ben’s gone, I take it?”
She clasped her hands nervously between her knees, trying to stop them from shaking. She knew Spike was dead; there was no way Ben would have left town with him still alive, unless he’d taken him along, of course.
But she wanted to hear the news from Tara.
“Yes, he left the morning after you and the other Slayer girl went – well, went away. How is she? Did she have her baby OK?”
Buffy nodded. “A girl, Gracie.”
Tara smiled and nodded at her friend. “That’s lovely. And you, Buffy – you’re – feeling okay?”
Buffy bit her lip. How easy it would be to break down, to tell this sympathetic, warm-hearted girl of the desperation that surrounded her, night and day. That without Spike her life no longer seemed to have any focus, colour or direction.
And this Tara would understand because she, too, had liked the Spike she’d known in this world.
“I miss Spike,” she said at last, her voice hoarse.
Tara’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh Buffy. I can only guess how much. If I lost Xander, I don’t know what I would do. But at least you have the baby. That’s a comfort.”
Buffy nodded vaguely, only half listening. Was Gracie a comfort? Well, keeping her from Ben had been important. Little key baby would have died and this Sunnydale would have sunk into unimaginable hell. So yes, holding her firm, wriggling body, watching Dawn rock her and love her, was sort of comforting. Spike had died so she could be born. It was a legacy to be proud of. She knew he would have thought the price of his death a small one to pay to save a whole world from a hellgod.
“Yes, the baby’s a comfort,” she said slowly and stood up suddenly. She had wanted to come through to this world, longing for sympathy from the friends who had known Spike, would grieve for him, would let her shed tears, show her feelings and not judge her.
But now she was here, it was all too much. Too cloying. Too heavy. She wanted to shout and scream and batter at the walls with her fists. She didn’t want him dead, she wanted him alive and annoying and loving her and being his usual sarcastic, stroppy self. All the key babies in the world couldn’t make up for that.
“I’m going to have a patrol around,” she said briefly. “Check everything over. I‘ll be back later to catch up with Willow and Xander.“
“Do you want company?”
Buffy smiled and shook her head. “No, thanks, Tara. I’ll be okay. Just – need a little time on my own.”
Her friend’s anxious gaze followed her as she walked out of the house and down the street. Tara sighed. Buffy seemed less than excited about the baby she was expecting. She thought it would ease Spike’s loss for her, but perhaps some pains were too great to soothe.
The looming bulk of the old hotel where Ben had made his headquarters didn’t appear quite so formidable in the evening sunshine. Now it just looked like a run-down building that had seen better days. A few windows broken, damp stains on the concrete pathways, a wooden door hanging by its hinges.
Buffy pushed her way through the rubbish that had blown into the hallway and stared around. She jumped as a flutter of wings broke the silence and a bird flew in through one window and out another.
There was no sign in the great hall to show that Ben had wanted to sacrifice Faith, to cut the living Key baby from her body. But there were bloodstains! Every nerve in her Slayer body quivered as she walked across and knelt by the dried black pool on the floor.
Vampire blood! Spike’s blood! She could feel it. And there was so much of it! They had tortured him. While she and Faith were escaping, he had died, right here.
The sickness in Buffy’s stomach rose up to her throat and she was desperate to vomit. Why had she come here? What good was this going to do – he’d gone and his dried blood couldn’t tell her how or when, or if he’d died with her name on his lips or cursing the fact that she’d left him.
“Well, look, it’s our lucky day! New Sunnydale, old Slayer!”
Buffy spun round. Two vamps were prowling towards her – guys who could only have been in their late teens – they still had dreadful spots – and one was still wearing a brace on his bottom teeth.
“Hey, watch who you’re calling old! You really don’t want to upset me at this particular moment,“ Buffy snapped. “Just go your way and I’ll – “ But with all the impetuosity of youth, they launched themselves at her, fangs glistening.
Buffy spun, her foot catching one under the chin, knocking his brace clean out of his mouth. She finished her spin, a stake taking him out before he had a chance to blink.
The other vamp hesitated, turned and bolted for a door. Buffy sighed. All she wanted to do was go back to Willow’s and hang out with her and Xander, find out if her friend was slowly recovering from Oz’s death, ask her how she’d coped with losing the man she loved.
The last thing she wanted was to start chasing vamps, but – hey, Slayer, so no choice. She couldn‘t just let it run free.
She followed it through the door and realised this was the way down to the cellars. The stairway was dark; no light reached it from outside. Buffy found the pencil flashlight she carried in her jeans’ pocket and padded down the stone steps. Ahead of her she could hear the terrified flailing footsteps as the vamp headed for whatever safety he could find.
“God, this is boring,” she called. “You know how this is all going to end. Why not be a good little vamp and get it over and done with fast. Save your energy for when you’re dust.”
The spiral stone steps ended abruptly: here were the cellars - that was the one where they’d been imprisoned, her and Faith. Stone archways marked entrances to various tunnels that led away in different directions and Buffy sighed, trying to work out which way the vamp had headed. The echoing clatter of his footsteps could have come from anyone of the passageways.
Then the little hairs on the back of her neck wiggled – the signal she’d always received when a vampire was close. Well, perhaps he hadn’t run that far, after all! Perhaps he was just inside one of the tunnels, lying in wait for her. Oh goody, there was going to be a fight after all. She was glad. Dusting the first vamp had made her feel a little better; she was just in the right mood to kill something else.
Stake in hand, she crept forward and hadn’t gone more than five or ten yards when her foot hit a body sprawled on the ground.
All her nerves yelled vampire – but this time, as her stomach lurched and nausea flooded her mouth, she knew that her heart, blood and brain were also shouting – Spike!
To be continued
Chp 16 Catching Up
The first thing Buffy noticed this time about the other Sunnydale as she came through the portal was that the sun was shining! It poured in through the half drawn curtains of the house on Revello Drive, lighting the spirals of dust that lay on the carpet, golden specks floating in the beams.
Buffy pulled a face. She felt weary and a little sick; hurtling through the portal had upset her stomach again. The fact that her house was looking so neglected didn’t make her feel any better. She and housework had never been best friends, but this was beyond bad.
Outside the warmth of the afternoon sun hit her face in a welcome home blaze. There was a letter in the mail-box – from her mom. It gave her a gut churning moment to see the handwriting, know that Joyce Summers had written the words, posted this envelope. That she wasn’t dead, but happily, healthily alive.
Buffy stood on the sidewalk, reading greedily. In this world, of course, her mom was living with her sister, happy and contented with her life. Here were details of a new car, her job at the local tourist centre, a funny day out with neighbours, a date with a nice man she’d met at the library, when was Buffy coming to visit and did she realise there was something wrong with her phone because no one ever returned her calls? Was she OK?
The words blurred as the tears began. Buffy wondered why she’d never made any attempt to contact this Joyce Summers. But in her heart of hearts she knew the answer. She couldn’t have born to see her mom alive and well, knowing she was dead in the other world.
Did that make her a dreadful daughter? No, just a damaged one, she thought wearily.
But this Joyce is worrying about you, a little voice inside her head said stubbornly. You have to speak to her – or at least write. Tell her you’re off to Tibet, or England, anything so she won’t worry for a few months. Because that was one of the weird things about the two universes. Weeks had passed in the original Sunnydale since she and Faith had returned there, but here – it was only a couple of days later.
She stared along the street, aware with a growing sense of thankfulness that things were very different from the last time she’d been here. People walking, cars and vans passing by, a couple of dogs barking in a fenced in yard, a guy up a ladder mending a power line. Life was obviously back to normal and that could only mean one thing – Ben had gone.
The walk through Sunnydale to Willow’s home convinced Buffy that the hellgod had indeed left town. The roaming gangs of zombie like figures had vanished and in the children’s play area, mothers sat watching little ones toddling around the sandpit. There was no way the children would have been let out if Ben had still been around.
“Buffy!” Tara had opened the door and gazed at Buffy, her face glowing with welcome. She looked happier, far less careworn than she had a few weeks ago, although to her, of course, only a few days had passed since Buffy had half carried the heavily pregnant Faith back through the portal.
“Tara! Hi. Can I come in?”
“Yes, of course. I just wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. Willow and Xander will be thrilled. Xander has work; a new mall just out of town. I’m not certain where Willow has gone. But come in. Can I get you a coffee, a cola? Something to eat?’
Buffy shook her head and sank down on the squishy sofa in the family room. “So, how is everything? Sunnydale looks good. Ben’s gone, I take it?”
She clasped her hands nervously between her knees, trying to stop them from shaking. She knew Spike was dead; there was no way Ben would have left town with him still alive, unless he’d taken him along, of course.
But she wanted to hear the news from Tara.
“Yes, he left the morning after you and the other Slayer girl went – well, went away. How is she? Did she have her baby OK?”
Buffy nodded. “A girl, Gracie.”
Tara smiled and nodded at her friend. “That’s lovely. And you, Buffy – you’re – feeling okay?”
Buffy bit her lip. How easy it would be to break down, to tell this sympathetic, warm-hearted girl of the desperation that surrounded her, night and day. That without Spike her life no longer seemed to have any focus, colour or direction.
And this Tara would understand because she, too, had liked the Spike she’d known in this world.
“I miss Spike,” she said at last, her voice hoarse.
Tara’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh Buffy. I can only guess how much. If I lost Xander, I don’t know what I would do. But at least you have the baby. That’s a comfort.”
Buffy nodded vaguely, only half listening. Was Gracie a comfort? Well, keeping her from Ben had been important. Little key baby would have died and this Sunnydale would have sunk into unimaginable hell. So yes, holding her firm, wriggling body, watching Dawn rock her and love her, was sort of comforting. Spike had died so she could be born. It was a legacy to be proud of. She knew he would have thought the price of his death a small one to pay to save a whole world from a hellgod.
“Yes, the baby’s a comfort,” she said slowly and stood up suddenly. She had wanted to come through to this world, longing for sympathy from the friends who had known Spike, would grieve for him, would let her shed tears, show her feelings and not judge her.
But now she was here, it was all too much. Too cloying. Too heavy. She wanted to shout and scream and batter at the walls with her fists. She didn’t want him dead, she wanted him alive and annoying and loving her and being his usual sarcastic, stroppy self. All the key babies in the world couldn’t make up for that.
“I’m going to have a patrol around,” she said briefly. “Check everything over. I‘ll be back later to catch up with Willow and Xander.“
“Do you want company?”
Buffy smiled and shook her head. “No, thanks, Tara. I’ll be okay. Just – need a little time on my own.”
Her friend’s anxious gaze followed her as she walked out of the house and down the street. Tara sighed. Buffy seemed less than excited about the baby she was expecting. She thought it would ease Spike’s loss for her, but perhaps some pains were too great to soothe.
The looming bulk of the old hotel where Ben had made his headquarters didn’t appear quite so formidable in the evening sunshine. Now it just looked like a run-down building that had seen better days. A few windows broken, damp stains on the concrete pathways, a wooden door hanging by its hinges.
Buffy pushed her way through the rubbish that had blown into the hallway and stared around. She jumped as a flutter of wings broke the silence and a bird flew in through one window and out another.
There was no sign in the great hall to show that Ben had wanted to sacrifice Faith, to cut the living Key baby from her body. But there were bloodstains! Every nerve in her Slayer body quivered as she walked across and knelt by the dried black pool on the floor.
Vampire blood! Spike’s blood! She could feel it. And there was so much of it! They had tortured him. While she and Faith were escaping, he had died, right here.
The sickness in Buffy’s stomach rose up to her throat and she was desperate to vomit. Why had she come here? What good was this going to do – he’d gone and his dried blood couldn’t tell her how or when, or if he’d died with her name on his lips or cursing the fact that she’d left him.
“Well, look, it’s our lucky day! New Sunnydale, old Slayer!”
Buffy spun round. Two vamps were prowling towards her – guys who could only have been in their late teens – they still had dreadful spots – and one was still wearing a brace on his bottom teeth.
“Hey, watch who you’re calling old! You really don’t want to upset me at this particular moment,“ Buffy snapped. “Just go your way and I’ll – “ But with all the impetuosity of youth, they launched themselves at her, fangs glistening.
Buffy spun, her foot catching one under the chin, knocking his brace clean out of his mouth. She finished her spin, a stake taking him out before he had a chance to blink.
The other vamp hesitated, turned and bolted for a door. Buffy sighed. All she wanted to do was go back to Willow’s and hang out with her and Xander, find out if her friend was slowly recovering from Oz’s death, ask her how she’d coped with losing the man she loved.
The last thing she wanted was to start chasing vamps, but – hey, Slayer, so no choice. She couldn‘t just let it run free.
She followed it through the door and realised this was the way down to the cellars. The stairway was dark; no light reached it from outside. Buffy found the pencil flashlight she carried in her jeans’ pocket and padded down the stone steps. Ahead of her she could hear the terrified flailing footsteps as the vamp headed for whatever safety he could find.
“God, this is boring,” she called. “You know how this is all going to end. Why not be a good little vamp and get it over and done with fast. Save your energy for when you’re dust.”
The spiral stone steps ended abruptly: here were the cellars - that was the one where they’d been imprisoned, her and Faith. Stone archways marked entrances to various tunnels that led away in different directions and Buffy sighed, trying to work out which way the vamp had headed. The echoing clatter of his footsteps could have come from anyone of the passageways.
Then the little hairs on the back of her neck wiggled – the signal she’d always received when a vampire was close. Well, perhaps he hadn’t run that far, after all! Perhaps he was just inside one of the tunnels, lying in wait for her. Oh goody, there was going to be a fight after all. She was glad. Dusting the first vamp had made her feel a little better; she was just in the right mood to kill something else.
Stake in hand, she crept forward and hadn’t gone more than five or ten yards when her foot hit a body sprawled on the ground.
All her nerves yelled vampire – but this time, as her stomach lurched and nausea flooded her mouth, she knew that her heart, blood and brain were also shouting – Spike!
To be continued
Chp 17 Decisions
Chp 17 Decisions
Buffy dropped to her knees, pushing the stake back into her waistband, the rogue vamp forgotten. The little pencil flashlight she carried jerked backwards and forwards as she tried to shine it on Spike’s body. A groan that was no more than a whine of pain broke from her mouth as the beam flashed across a pale body, naked to the waist, covered in dark blood stains.
“Spike! Oh God, what have they done to you! Spike!” She dropped the flashlight but it remained pointing at his body and she crawled sideways, trying not to touch him, terrified she was going to hurt her husband in some way.
His hands – oh God, his beautiful hands – they were swollen and distorted – every bone must have been broken. Amongst the cuts and whip marks on his back she could see bright burn marks.
Sobbing inside her - but determined not to cry because what the hell use would she be to him then - she picked up the flashlight again and trained it on his head. What she saw she knew instinctively would stay with her the rest of her life – even if that were as short as most Slayer’s.
The platinum curls were soaked black with blood, there was a great gash that cut open his temple and vanished up across the back of his skull. It looked fresh; still seeping blood.
His face! Buffy steeled herself: one of his arms was thrown up and over his head, as if to protect himself. She could see the myriad cuts and bruises on that arm and marvelled that it was still attached to his body.
Gently, she moved it aside, wincing, feeling the nausea rising up her throat, battling not to weaken when all she wanted to do was lie on the ground next to him and howl.
Then the tears she’d refused to shed began to roll down her cheeks because his face wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. Bruised and battered, the lips that knew every inch of her body were cut and swollen, but it could have been so much worse.
She inched forward on her knees and gently touched his cheek. “Spike! Spike! Sweetheart, can you hear me? It’s Buffy. Please, please wake up.”
There was no response and just then, the flashlight began to flicker. Buffy stared down at him. Obviously he wasn’t breathing – he didn’t need to and there was no use searching for a heartbeat. But he wasn’t dust, so surely he was still alive!
Could she move him? Carry him out of the hotel, back to Willow’s house where they could care for him. But she didn’t dare lift him until she knew how badly he was injured inside.
Suddenly the flashlight faded and died and darkness closed in around them. Buffy slid across the rocky floor and lifted Spike’s head a fraction so it was cradled in her lap. She’d found him! And he wasn’t dead! Words of thanks jumbled through her brain, prayers to whatever gods were listening.
She bent over him again and kissed his cheek, unaware that her tears were falling onto his blackened lips.
“Trying – to – drown – me - pet? Can’t be done!” The words were cracked and broken, coming from a throat that had nearly dried to dust and ash.
“Spike! Oh god, Spike!”
“Stupid bint, why you crying?”
She ran her fingers lightly across his face and felt his long eyelashes flicker under her touch. She pulled off her top, spat on a corner of it and tried to gently dab away the blood that had congealed across his eyelids. “I thought – Ben – what he’s done – how bad is it?”
“Hurts like hell, Slayer! Good of you to strip, ‘preciate it, but don’t think I can quite - ”
“Shut up, you fool! Can you move? I didn’t want to carry you in case there’s something wrong inside.”
“Lots of broken ribs and I think one of my legs isn’t too clever, pet.”
“Your hands – ”
“Bloody hell, yes – “ Wincing, he tried to raise his head, then fell back with a groan, blood spattering across her T-shirt. “They had a fun time with my fingers. Haven’t seen one of those torture instruments for years and years. Liam would have loved it.”
“Don’t!”
“What – talk about your first lover?”
“‘No, you idiot! Stop talking about being tortured. It makes me – I can’t stand it.”
“Good job we both seem to be lying down then!” came the sarcastic reply.
There was a long silence. Buffy let the dark settle round them like a velvet cloak; it was enough for her now just to be here with him, to know that as badly hurt as he was, he would survive. They would both survive.
He was her beloved husband in this world and the aching pain of his loss was slowly fading away as the weight of his body numbed her legs.
“Buffy – ” the whisper was hoarse, grating from a throat that had screamed too much.
“Still here.”
“I knew you’d come back for me. Although I bet the Xander and Willow in our other world hoped you’d leave me here to rot!”
Buffy’s hands clenched convulsively on shoulder and she heard him wince. “Sorry! Spike - listen – I had to get Faith away to safety. You were right – that was important.”
“And you must have done that otherwise you wouldn’t be here, pet. Ben didn’t get his hands on her and won’t get the Key baby when she produces it. So, we did good, Buffy.”
“Yes, we did good,” Buffy echoed softly. Now was the moment, she knew, that she had to speak up, tell him that although he thought only a few days had passed, really it was weeks and weeks. The Key baby had arrived and Dawn was mothering little Gracie in a way they had never foreseen. All Spike’s pain and suffering had been worth it.
But when she told him that, he would also work out that his wife hadn’t come straight back to rescue him. She hadn’t believed he could possibly be alive. She’d only come through the portal eventually because she was so unhappy, wanting to be in a world where people understood how she was feeling. She’d been trying to assuage her own grief, not help her vampire husband.
And she knew, with a cold certainty, that if the roles had been reversed, Spike would not have spent weeks feeling sorry for himself, grieving and moping around. He would have hurtled back through the portal straight away to find her. How would he react when he knew about the weeks she’d let slip by without acting in the other world? Only three or four days might have passed here, but would he see her delay as a betrayal, as her reverting to the Buffy who wasn’t married to him, didn’t acknowledge their love?
“Ben – is he still around?”
“No, he’s gone. Sunnydale’s back to normal. I just need – need to get you mended. Listen, Spike – there’s something I have to tell you - ” She moved too abruptly and he hissed in pain as broken bones grated inside his body.
“Sorry, pet. Can it wait? I feel bloody rough. As long as Ben’s gone and we’re together, that’s all that matters to me.”
“Jeez, yes. Ok, we’ll talk later. I’m going to get help. Tara, Xander, someone – to help carry you.”
“No need, pet. These cellars are fine – nice and dark and quiet. I’ll be fine down here. Wouldn’t say no to a couple of pints of blood, though. Especially if you can find a bottle of Scotch to mix in it. Healing always goes quicker with alcohol in your body!”
Buffy’s stomach suddenly rolled over at the thought of blood and Scotch mixed. She desperately wanted to be sick. She eased herself away from the vampire, stood up and pulled her top back on. “I’ll be back as fast as I can.”
“Not going anywhere! God, I feel bloody weird, pet. Hurry up with the blood….” His voice trailed away and Buffy realised he’d lapsed back into unconsciousness.
She stood for a second, gazing down at the pale, bruised body she loved so much, then she turned and hurried back to the stone staircase that led up to the main part of the hotel. She’d get blood and Scotch, blankets, pillows, make him comfortable, make him better, and then she’d be brave and tell him. It wasn’t fair, she thought, to upset him when he was so weak. He’d understand everything when she explained it. She was sure of that.
But as she ran to fetch help, she realised that mixed with her overwhelming joy and thankfulness that Spike was alive, was a thin thread of dread. Why did she have the feeling that she’d just made a very bad decision?
To be continued
Chp 18 No tears shed
Something to Sing About
By Lilachigh
Chp : No tears shed
Spike slowly, reluctantly, came back to consciousness, biting back the groan that burnt his throat as the pains in his body and hands vied with each other to be king of the bloody torture memory. “Buffy - ?”
“What the – Spike?”
He knew the voice and fought to open his eyelids. He felt someone kneeling by his side, but it wasn’t Buffy, although his senses screamed Slayer. A strong cool hand slid under his shoulder and helped him to sit upright.
“I thought you were dead and dust. Way to go, Spikey. You survived Ben after all.”
“Faith?”
“Five by five, bleach boy. Hey, I’ll have to go back, tell B you’re alive. Be the bearer of good news for once.”
“She already knows. She was here – bloody hell, I thought she was here…but perhaps…” His voice faltered and stopped. Perhaps that had all been a dream, his wife’s tears on his face, the sight of the joy and anguish battling for supremacy in her eyes when she realised he was alive. Perhaps all that had been the result of pain and longing and an imagination that refused to give up and let go. He tried to sense her, but all he could smell was his own blood.
Faith shook her head and he realised the long black hair had gone, cropped to a short, shaggy style that made her dark eyes look even larger.
“B’s back in the other Sunnydale. She thinks you’re dead. She won’t come here again. Too busy. She’s leaving me to be Slayer in Charge. We need to get you back through the portal. Hey, you’ll be a really big surprise for everyone.”
“Must have been a dream, then, Buffy being here. Makes sense. She’d never have gone off and left me if it was real.” He sighed. “I need to get to her, Faith. Need to go home.”
Suddenly his eyes focussed on her face. He frowned and reached up a hesitant finger, wincing as the broken bones grated together under the skin. He touched the blunt ends of her short hair, then, frowning, ran his finger down her throat, across her breast and onto her flat stomach.
“Hey!” She pulled away, taken by surprise. “No touching.”
“What happened to the baby? And your hair!” He vamped out swiftly, then back again. “Hey, are you the other Faith?”
“What? No way, I’m the Faith who owes you her life because you let Ben torture you while I escaped. So, fair’s fair. I’ll help you back to your nearest and dearest.” She tried to pull him to his feet, but he pushed her hands away.
“You’re not pregnant with the Key any more. What happened?”
Faith frowned and flung herself down on the floor next to him. She stared at the battered face, the torture marks on his pale body and hid a shudder. That could have been her. No, it would have been worse. If Ben had ever known for sure that her baby was the Key, he would have cut it from her body while she was still alive.
She tried to look at the vampire dispassionately. OK, he was B’s husband in this world, but not in the other. Which was mega weird. People liked him here but not there. She wondered what he would do when he got back. He couldn’t live with Buffy in Sunnydale. She hadn’t spent a lot of time with Xander and Willow since she’d had Gracie, but enough to know that if they’d thought Buffy was sleeping with Spike, they would have mega wiggins all over town.
Her gaze roamed over his body and she smiled slowly. Regardless of who’s husband he was, he was a hot guy. Even battered and bloody, she could see that he was strong and god, it had been so long since she’d had sex!
“Faith – the baby – the Key – did you lose it?” Spike broke into her thoughts, his voice impatient, anxious.
“What – no, of course not. Pushed her out, didn’t I. A girl. Dawn’s taken charge of her. Calls her Gracie. Two Keys together. All bonding and exclusive. The rest of us never get a look in, and that goes for me, her mother, as well.”
“You’ve had the baby?” Spike stared at her. “But bloody hell, Faith, it was only a couple of days ago when Buffy got you away from Ben. I don’t understand – “ He stopped, his blue eyes growing darker until they were almost black with pain.
She moved uneasily as he seemed to be getting even paler than ever, if that was possible. “Hey, don’t go all weak and wobbly on me,” she snapped. “Gracie’s two months old now. And don’t judge me for leaving her. I wasn’t cut out to be a mommy. I know that and believe me, so does she!”
“Two months? Sodding hell!” He tried to get to his feet, choking back a scream as broken bones throughout his whole body grated on each other. He swayed, staring down at the dark-haired Slayer, the girl he’d been willing to give his life for. And for the first time he wished Ben had dusted him. Because what Faith was saying told him a story he didn’t want to know.
His dream had been just that – a dream. Buffy hadn’t come back for him. Regardless of how little time had passed here, she hadn’t even bothered to check up to see if he was dead or alive. She’d just – what? – got on with her sodding life back in Sunnyhell for two months, basking in her friends’ praise that she’d rescued the Key baby? Had she even told them the price he’d been prepared to pay for its safety? A sick realisation swept over him. He knew the answer to that question; in that world he meant nothing to any one. No tears would have been shed. No fond farewells spoken over a drink at the Bronze.
He felt a wave a weakness flood through him. He was desperate to feed, he needed blood to stay alive but – he tried to force the thought away, but it wouldn’t be denied. Buffy was alive and well; that was important. She didn’t want or need him in her life in that world. So what was the point of keeping his miserable existence going?
Faith rolled over onto her knees and edged closer to the vampire. He’d lain down again and closed his eyes. She reached out and touched his face, which was useless because he was cold because hey, dead here!
“Spike! Spike! Come on, vampire. Talk to me.” When there was no response, she grabbed his hand and squeezed, feeling the bones grate. With a roaring groan, he opened his eyes, vamped out and stared up at her. “That’s better. Don’t you dare die on me. What’s wrong?”
The golden eyes glared at her, then he shimmered back into human face. “Hungry,” he managed.
Faith stared at him. OK, she knew she would never be a proper mother to Gracie, knew that the baby would never love her, but somewhere deep inside her was a well of gratitude to this vampire. Because at the end of the day there wouldn’t have been a Gracie if he hadn’t helped her and B escape.
Buffy raced back through the streets of Sunnydale clutching a bottle of Scotch. She was feeling frantic. There’d been no blood anywhere. The butcher’s wasn’t open for business yet and the hospital had more guards round it than the State Prison. She’d wasted valuable time searching, then the realisation of what she had to do struck her and she cursed her own stupidity for not thinking of it earlier.
The steps down into the hotel basement were dark and she ran down them lightly, her rubber-soled shoes making no sound. At the entrance to the cellar, she stopped and felt her world end.
Faith was there, sitting on the floor. Her head was thrown back, her long beautiful neck exposed. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Spike, holding him upright. And even as Buffy watched, he vamped out, golden eyes gleaming, and with a growl, his fangs sunk into the pale flesh offered to him. And he fed!
tbc
19 Blame
Something to Sing About
Chapter 33
Blame
Spike was feeding from Faith! She had thrown back her head, bared her neck and he’d vamped out, sinking his fangs into a vein. Neither of them noticed someone was watching. No, they were far too intent on each other to see – and if they had, would they have cared?
How odd it was when your soul died and yet your body went on living. Your heart pumped monotonously onwards, driving blood round your veins. All your little cells and nerves, muscles and flesh cheerfully got on with what they had always done, keeping you alive while all the time, you were dead inside.
Buffy twisted away from the doorway and flattened herself against the basement wall, fighting back the nausea that suddenly overcame her.
She leant against the rough stones, needing them for support. She knew if she once let her legs give way, she would fall to the ground and lie there, crying and screaming and never stop. She squeezed her eyes tight shut, but that was useless. Nothing could eradicate the sight that was burned into her brain – the sight of Spike feeding from Faith. Nothing!
She craved someone to blame for the blinding pain that coursed through her. She grasped at the obvious. She could blame Faith! But no matter how much you might want to, you might as well blame the wind for blowing or rain from falling from the sky. Faith had no morals, no belief in right or wrong. Spike had wanted to feed; she had obviously been only too glad and willing to help.
Buffy heard an odd keening sound and realised she was moaning under her breath. Perhaps she could blame Spike? But how could she? She had left him here, tortured and broken, for two long months – even if only a few days had passed in this reality.
She hadn’t come back to check whether he’d survived Ben’s killing spree. Sitting in the first Sunnydale, watching Dawn care for baby Gracie, two Key people becoming closer and closer with every passing second, she hadn’t even wondered if Spike was alive or dead. She’d been so sure he was gone. How could she have thought that? Why hadn’t something inside her told her he was still alive?
Buffy’s eyes opened – she could smell blood! Then she realised her hands were scraping down the rough stones behind her, over and over again, the pain a pale shadow of what she was feeling inside.
‘I was so busy being sorry for myself, complaining to myself that there was no one I could talk to about him, it never crossed my mind that Spike might have survived.’
A little voice inside her head tried to say that no one would ever have believed Ben wouldn’t have destroyed Spike, but she ignored it.
Okay, at the end of the day, although she’d had no choice, she’d had to leave him behind, leave him to his fate so she could get the Key baby away from Ben - she hadn’t come back! She hadn’t made sure and – what finished her completely, caused as much agony as the sight of Faith’s possessive hand twisting into the curls on the back of his head, holding him greedily against her neck as he drank - was the knowledge that he would not have done the same thing if their roles had been reversed. Spike would have found his way back to her. Somehow, some way, he would have made certain of her fate.
And now? Now, obviously, there was Faith. ‘Hey, you hungry, Spikey? Have some blood! Feed from me. Help yourself. What’s mine is yours! Jeez – how’s that for being Miss Observant Girl of the Year, Buffy!’ she thought bitterly.
Suddenly a thought struck her; she wondered if Faith had travelled through the portal between the two worlds more than once in the past few weeks. Had she discovered that Spike was alive on one of her trips? It was quite obvious from what Buffy had just seen that the dark-haired Slayer wanted him – there was no way she would have let him feed from her otherwise.
Buffy winced, another jolt of pain shooting through her head. Was that one of the reasons Faith had given up baby Gracie to Dawn? So she could be with Spike in every possible way. It made sense. If you wanted to ensnare your guy, you were better off without a two-month-old kid in tow.
The silence from the basement room ended; Buffy could hear the distant murmur of their voices and – tears choked her throat – the sound of Spike laughing softly. Faith’s blood had obviously given the vampire strength.
Not that that was any great surprise. What’s a little Slayer blood between friends. Or were they more than friends – were they lovers?
Buffy felt her nails snap as she dragged her fingers down the rough bricks. Of course they were lovers! As far as Spike was concerned, his wife in this world had left him to go back to one in which he was hated and detested by everyone. And although she’d been forced to leave him behind, no one had forced her to abandon him and stay for months in safety back in Sunnydale. Oh no, she’d done that completely and utterly on her own. Way to go, Buffy!
Usually men left her – her dad, Angel, Parker, Riley – they walked away from her. But this time, she’d done the walking. She’d had a guy who loved her with every bone in his body and she’d abandoned him. The pain was worse.
And here was Faith to swoop in and take what was on offer – the Faith from this other Sunnydale, with her perfect, beautiful face, her body still voluptuous after Gracie’s birth, a girl who used sex like a velvet sword, a girl who belonged here in this world where Spike was liked and admired. It was a perfect partnership.
So what did she do now? Go downstairs and confront them? Fight Faith? See what in Spike’s face when he looked at her – anger, disdain…. oh god, what if he felt sorry for her!
With hideous self-loathing, her stomach clenching and twisting, nausea hovering to explode, she pushed herself away from the wall and stumbled silently away up the stairs, back into the daylight.
She couldn’t face them – not yet. What could she say? Oh, not to Faith. There was nothing she could put into words that the other Slayer would understand.
But to her husband. “I love you more than she does, Spike! You’re my husband in this world. You promised you would always love me. Why are you cheating on me when I love you so much?”
And if he replied that he no longer cared? That he hated her? She could, she realised, deal with that. What terrified her more, feeling the fear run through her veins like molten silver, was that she would look into his face and see - pity.
Her feet carried her automatically through the streets of Sunnydale, back to Revello Drive. She now had only one thought – home – not this home where they had lived as man and wife, shared a bed, passion, life.
No, she wanted her own solitary room, to be able to lock the door, bury her face in her pillow and cry for a world and a love she had thrown away.
Buffy half fell through the front door and into the kitchen. She was just about to throw herself into the portal when her senses kicked in. The whirling orange and purple window wasn’t there. Her only escape back to the other Sunnydale had gone!
tbc
20 Decisions
Chapter 20
Decisions
Buffy couldn’t believe what she wasn’t seeing. The swirling orange and purple portal that had flickered for so long in the corner of the Revello Drive kitchen had vanished! Even the red plastic bucket that usually sat on top of it had gone.
She fell to her knees and scrabbled hopelessly at the polished wooden boards. But they were solid – clean, polished and solid. The portal back to the other Sunnydale had gone.
Buffy sank back on her heels and stared vacantly into space. What did she do now? She was trapped in a reality where her husband knew she had abandoned him, where he was receiving sympathy, blood - and probably a lot else - from Faith.
Spike! The pain of loss was overwhelming. What she had lived through had been bad enough for those months when she’d believed he was dead, slaughtered by Ben. But then to have found him again! To experience that surging joy, the happiness, even though he was so desperately injured.
The pain she felt now was somehow deeper, bitter, tinged with self-loathing. Because this was all her fault. She didn’t deserve Spike because she hadn’t believed he could survive. She’d given up so easily, wallowed in her grief, lost herself in caring for Faith and baby Gracie, pushing her thoughts and memories of Spike to the back of her mind where they couldn’t hurt her.
She saw now that returning to Sunnydale with the pregnant Faith had been just another form of escape, although at the time the desperation to save the Key baby from Ben had seemed paramount. But once there she’d hidden from her emotions by rushing into action, never giving herself a chance to sit and think quietly and sensibly.
She’d made herself busy organising everything, patrolling night and day, explaining to her friends what had happened, dealing with Dawn’s growing love for the Key baby, trying to understand Faith’s boredom with motherhood. She’d tried not to feel jealous that it was Faith who had carried the Key baby and not her as she had once thought it might be. Her baby – well, that had only been a short-lived dream.
It had only been when she realised she couldn’t even talk about the man she loved and how he’d died to her friends and family that she’d decided to come back here, to find the Willow, Xander and Tara of this world and experience the relief of discussing Spike with people who liked him.
Willow! Oh god, yes. Willow would know what to do, how to get the portal back. Then she could - what?
Run away again? a little voice said inside her head. Let Faith win. Give up without a fight?
* * * * * *
Deep in the cellars of the old hotel, Spike rolled over and sat up. He could feel his strength growing, returning; the vicious slashes that Ben’s torturers had inflicted on his body were beginning to heal and his shattered bones were mending now he had Slayer blood running in his veins.
Faith! He wondered where she was. After he’d fed from her, she’d got up and left, without saying a word. Not that he would have known what to say to her, except for “thanks”.
No, wait a moment, bloody hell! He remembered now. After the sweet, metallic taste had finished flowing down his throat, he’d licked the wound clean and muttered – “Oh God, I said Buffy’s name! You wanker, Spike! That’s about as bad as saying the wrong name to a girl when you’re shagging her!”
He groaned. No wonder Faith had got up and left. Although to be fair, he’d never thought of her as being particularly thin-skinned.
Leaning against the cold stone wall, he stared gloomily out into the darkness of the cellar. For a vampire he certainly had a lot of Slayer input in his life. One had saved him; one had abandoned him to his fate. One he loved, for the other, he just felt gratitude. But – because he was trying hard to be honest, Faith was bloody sexy. But sex wasn’t enough. Not when you were in love with someone else.
Buffy, his wife in this world, his enemy in the other Sunnydale. As she’d never returned with any sort of food or help for him after she’d found him injured, he reckoned she’d gone back there already. What else could he think? She was needed in that world; she had friends, a sister, a new baby Key to look after. And if he weren’t around to annoy her, to make her question her feelings for him, then her life would be that much simpler.
Spike knew Buffy had feelings for him in both worlds. But it was only in this one that she had allowed herself to show them.
He sighed: he liked this world, loved being Buffy’s husband, Willow’s friend, even hanging out with Xander and Tara when he could get his head round the fact that they were a couple. He’d seen his sire die in this world but that Angel had been pure Angelus, no soul, no compassion.
So should he stay here? “Could make myself useful, I suppose. Help Faith with the nasties. Find myself a crypt, make a home, and forget all about Buffy.”
He said the last words out loud again. “Forget all about Buffy!” Then he laughed wearily and got to his feet. Who the hell was he kidding? He could sooner fly to the moon than forget his wife. Whatever she’d done to him, whatever she thought of him, even if she didn’t want anything to do with him any more, he still had to be around, just in case he could be of use to her at some time.
“Love’s bitch!” he muttered, not for the first time in his life. And knew it was as true now as it was then. And he had no regrets about that at all.
* * * * * *
It was growing dark in the kitchen at Revello Drive. Buffy sat at the kitchen table, head pillowed on her arms. She couldn’t remember when she had last felt so exhausted. Her jeans felt tight and scratchy and she longed for a shower, but it was too much effort to climb the stairs.
Milk! A glass of icy cold milk and a plate of pickles. That was what she needed. Automatically she got up and opened the refrigerator, then realised that it would be empty – but, wonders of wonders, it wasn’t.
“Oh thank the lord for Tara!” she said out loud. There was milk and butter, eggs, bacon and pancake mix already in a bowl! “I love Tara and want to marry her,” Buffy said out loud, taking the milk carton and drinking it straight down.
“If that’s your way of telling me you are gay as well as a Slayer, then this flying visit is going to be even more interesting than I’d thought!”
Buffy froze, the carton squashed between her clenched fingers, milk dripping onto the – why hadn’t she realised before why the floor was clean and polished, why there was food in the fridge?
That was a voice she now only heard in her dreams, the hand on her shoulder was a mirage, it wasn’t there, none of this was true.
“Buffy?”
She forced herself to turn and felt her stomach heave and the world tilt sideways. “Hi, Mom!”
tbc
Chp 21 Mothers and daughters
Something to Sing About
Chapter : Mothers and daughters
Joyce Summers pulled Buffy close and hugged her. “Oh, it’s so good to see you again! ”
Buffy shut her eyes, feeling the world swirling around her. This was Mom! - the feel of her arms, the smell of her hair and the powder on her face. She was wearing a perfume Buffy didn’t recognize but as the tears began to trickle down Buffy’s face, she realised that she could even feel her mom’s heart beating.
Yes this Joyce was alive and holding her, kissing her cheek and Buffy thought she would die from the combination of grief and happiness.
She couldn’t bear it! Before, when she’d first discovered this reality, a Sunnydale that was so similar and yet different in such vital aspects, Joyce had been away, staying with her sister who suffered from poor health.
Buffy had spoken to her briefly a couple of times on the phone and even that had been weird, but she’d firmly put the fact of having two mothers out of her head.
There had been too much going on – marrying Spike, discovering Cordelia’s nasty little secret, killing Angel, deciding she had to go back although everything in her pleaded to stay here…
But this time it was different because Joyce had died back in the “real” world and a little of Buffy had died too.
Buffy had attempted to cope with the devastation of feeling so alone, bereft, abandoned. She’d even coped with the dreadful anger that sometimes flooded through her, anger towards the mom who’d left her.
She’d tried to look after Dawn, as her mom would have expected. She’d tried. But she still missed her, every single day, as much as ever. And now here was mom, alive and well, wearing an expensive green jacket and skirt that looked marvellous on her. And the house was alive and happy.
Buffy started to raise her arms to hug, then stopped, her hands fluttering like two sad birds in mid air behind Joyce’s back. No, she couldn’t! If she once gave in to the joy, the overwhelming sensation of being loved, if she once admitted that this was her mom, how would she cope if this Joyce died?
Joyce pushed her daughter away a little, holding her shoulders gently and looked at her, frowning, her eyes puzzled. “Hmm, okay, not quite the enthusiastic greeting I’d expected. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” The reply was quite automatic; perhaps she’d been making it in both worlds for years. But what was the alternative. “Everything,” would just about sum it up, but her mom didn’t want to hear that. Buffy was certain that Joyce was keen to know that her daughter was fine; that she was happy and leading a fulfilling and worthwhile life.
Not that she was heartbroken and disgusted with her own behaviour. That she had lost the man she loved because she hadn’t trusted in happiness enough to keep going until all hope was finally gone.
“Buffy – you look dreadful and you sound worse. Nothing isn’t an adequate answer.”
“Jeez, you certainly know how to make a girl feel great, Mom!”
Joyce brushed her words aside. “Look, I’m only here in Sunnydale for a flying visit. I have to get back to your aunt. She needs me.”
‘I need you too,’ Buffy thought angrily, turning away, unable to look too long at a face she had thought she would never see again. ‘I needed you when you died. I needed you to look after Dawn and be there for me. You left me all alone. You had no right to die!’
“So – is it Spike?”
“What?” Her husband’s name brought her back to reality.
Joyce sighed. “Buffy, I’ve known you worried to the point of despair about demons and vampires and different apocalypses, but you only have that certain expression on your face when you’ve had a row with Spike.”
Buffy took a jar of pickles from the fridge and fished one out with her fingers. She bit into the juicy acid flesh, relishing the tang of vinegar in her mouth.
Joyce’s eyes widened slightly and her look of irritation turned to puzzled concern. “Look, sweetheart, come and sit down and tell me what’s been going on. The two of you love each other too much to let some silly argument split you up.”
She sat on the sofa and Buffy flung herself onto the floor at her feet, resting her head against her mom’s legs. She felt gentle fingers stroking her head and for a second allowed herself to shut her eyes and pretend that this was really Mommy.
And of course, it was! In this world this was Mom, but as with so much else, the Joyce of this Sunnydale was slightly different. She was a smarter, more elegant version. Buffy knew she’d been a successful businesswoman and had only sold her antique shop when she’d left town to care for her sister.
Buffy took a deep breath. This mom knew all about vampires and Slayers, another reality wouldn’t worry her. “Well, you see, I know it sounds kind of weird, but there’s this other Sunnydale where everything and everyone are alike, but not quite. In that world, time moves really fast, Spike and me are absolute enemies, Willow is gay and in love with Tara and Xander likes this totally old demon girl called Anya. Oh yes, and you’ve got a daughter called Dawn who’s really just a lot of green energy sent for us to look after and I died and came back to life and oh, yes, you’re dead! A couple of years ago, the Willow there opened a portal to this world and Spike and I came through ….”
…..“And so Spike obviously prefers Faith and I’ve lost him and it’s all my fault!” Buffy ended the story on a wail of pure grief.
There was a long silence. Joyce let the news that she had died in another life swim to the front of her brain for a few seconds, then she resolutely pushed it away. Not her problem. Nor was any of the vampire business. She’d learnt many years ago, when Buffy was first called, to compartmentalize her life.
She left the vampire world to her daughter whom she knew was superb at everything to do with Slaying, but when it came to relationships, Joyce knew Buffy still had a great deal to learn.
She got up and poured Buffy a glass of milk, watching keenly as her daughter drank it down without pausing. “So why didn’t you just tell Spike that you thought this Ben had killed him when you got back here and found him alive?”
Buffy hugged her knees to her chest, scratching at the dirt encrusted in the grain of the denim. “I’m not sure. I – well – I suppose I just thought I could tell him once I’d got him better again.”
“Or did you hope he’d never find out?”
“I don’t know. It’s all so complicated.”
Joyce smiled. “Nothing new there, then. Come on, Buffy. Is this a Slayer problem, or a Buffy problem?”
Buffy took a deep breath. “How can you separate the two? Aren’t they both me?”
“No, they’re chalk and cheese. My Slayer daughter knows exactly what to do and when to do it. She’s brave, clever and determined. She follows her head and doesn’t often make a wrong decision. My Buffy daughter follows her heart, doubts herself too much and, what is worse, doubts those that love her most.”
Silence filled the room for a while, then Buffy said quietly, “I reckon Slayer Buffy and Daughter Buffy have ended up with a skanky chalky cheesey mess somewhere along the way. I made what I thought were the right decisions to save Gracie from Ben – I’m not sorry about that - but why didn’t I just come straight back once the baby arrived? Why did I believe Spike was dead, without even checking?”
“You thought there was no chance he was alive.”
Buffy laughed but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Oh, so if you believed I was in mortal danger, you’d just accept it and go on with your life without finding out one way or the other? I don’t think so! I abandoned him, Mom! I just couldn’t – couldn’t – “
“Accept that he had gone? Perhaps all the time you were in this other Sunnydale, even though you told yourself he was dead, there was some little part of you that never truly accepted it. So you couldn’t come back because then you might have discovered the final truth.”
Buffy got to her feet, wishing she didn’t feel so tired. “The final truth? About me and Spike? That’s something I don’t think I will ever know. Well, Buffy the wife has made a complete mess of her life but at least Buffy the Slayer can get on with her job.”
Joyce sighed. “Buffy! You make me so cross. You’re doing exactly the same thing again! Stop running away from the truth. You still don’t know for sure that Spike is with Faith now or how he feels about what happened. Why won’t you believe that he loves you? You’re forgetting, I’ve known Spike as long as you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
Buffy bit her lip, then turned and pulled her tangled hair off her face and tied it as tightly as she could, welcoming the pain as it tugged at the skin on her temples. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep.
Joyce picked up the empty milk glass and carried it into the kitchen. She felt she’d failed to make any impression. The stubborn expression on her daughter’s face was far too familiar to mistake. “So, what would your other mom have said to you?”
“What?”
“Your other mother, the me who died in that Sunnydale. What advice do you think she would she have given you about Spike?”
Buffy flinched at the brusqueness of Joyce’s remark. She knew the voice would have been the same, but she was certain the tone would have been softer, more sympathetic, warmer. Or would it? Her mom in the other reality had liked Spike, too. Which was mega weird because in that world he wasn’t part of the family set up. He was detested by her friends, an annoying vampire they put up with because he could be useful.
But there was no denying that her mom had liked him. Buffy felt a little smile flicker across her face as she recalled mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows.
“Pretty much the same as you,” she admitted ruefully. “But what do you want me to do? Go running after him, like some lovesick kid? Beg him to leave Faith and come back to me? I can’t do that, Mom. If he prefers her to me, then – “
She jumped as the glass in Joyce’s hand smashed against the side of the sink and shattered. “Buffy Summers! Stop it! A lovesick kid is just what you’re acting like right now! Stop worrying about your stupid pride, or what he’ll think or any of the hundred and fifty other excuses I’m sure you can come up with. And if you want to know what to say to him, how about telling him that you’re having a baby!”
tbc
Chapter : Mothers and daughters
Joyce Summers pulled Buffy close and hugged her. “Oh, it’s so good to see you again! ”
Buffy shut her eyes, feeling the world swirling around her. This was Mom! - the feel of her arms, the smell of her hair and the powder on her face. She was wearing a perfume Buffy didn’t recognize but as the tears began to trickle down Buffy’s face, she realised that she could even feel her mom’s heart beating.
Yes this Joyce was alive and holding her, kissing her cheek and Buffy thought she would die from the combination of grief and happiness.
She couldn’t bear it! Before, when she’d first discovered this reality, a Sunnydale that was so similar and yet different in such vital aspects, Joyce had been away, staying with her sister who suffered from poor health.
Buffy had spoken to her briefly a couple of times on the phone and even that had been weird, but she’d firmly put the fact of having two mothers out of her head.
There had been too much going on – marrying Spike, discovering Cordelia’s nasty little secret, killing Angel, deciding she had to go back although everything in her pleaded to stay here…
But this time it was different because Joyce had died back in the “real” world and a little of Buffy had died too.
Buffy had attempted to cope with the devastation of feeling so alone, bereft, abandoned. She’d even coped with the dreadful anger that sometimes flooded through her, anger towards the mom who’d left her.
She’d tried to look after Dawn, as her mom would have expected. She’d tried. But she still missed her, every single day, as much as ever. And now here was mom, alive and well, wearing an expensive green jacket and skirt that looked marvellous on her. And the house was alive and happy.
Buffy started to raise her arms to hug, then stopped, her hands fluttering like two sad birds in mid air behind Joyce’s back. No, she couldn’t! If she once gave in to the joy, the overwhelming sensation of being loved, if she once admitted that this was her mom, how would she cope if this Joyce died?
Joyce pushed her daughter away a little, holding her shoulders gently and looked at her, frowning, her eyes puzzled. “Hmm, okay, not quite the enthusiastic greeting I’d expected. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” The reply was quite automatic; perhaps she’d been making it in both worlds for years. But what was the alternative. “Everything,” would just about sum it up, but her mom didn’t want to hear that. Buffy was certain that Joyce was keen to know that her daughter was fine; that she was happy and leading a fulfilling and worthwhile life.
Not that she was heartbroken and disgusted with her own behaviour. That she had lost the man she loved because she hadn’t trusted in happiness enough to keep going until all hope was finally gone.
“Buffy – you look dreadful and you sound worse. Nothing isn’t an adequate answer.”
“Jeez, you certainly know how to make a girl feel great, Mom!”
Joyce brushed her words aside. “Look, I’m only here in Sunnydale for a flying visit. I have to get back to your aunt. She needs me.”
‘I need you too,’ Buffy thought angrily, turning away, unable to look too long at a face she had thought she would never see again. ‘I needed you when you died. I needed you to look after Dawn and be there for me. You left me all alone. You had no right to die!’
“So – is it Spike?”
“What?” Her husband’s name brought her back to reality.
Joyce sighed. “Buffy, I’ve known you worried to the point of despair about demons and vampires and different apocalypses, but you only have that certain expression on your face when you’ve had a row with Spike.”
Buffy took a jar of pickles from the fridge and fished one out with her fingers. She bit into the juicy acid flesh, relishing the tang of vinegar in her mouth.
Joyce’s eyes widened slightly and her look of irritation turned to puzzled concern. “Look, sweetheart, come and sit down and tell me what’s been going on. The two of you love each other too much to let some silly argument split you up.”
She sat on the sofa and Buffy flung herself onto the floor at her feet, resting her head against her mom’s legs. She felt gentle fingers stroking her head and for a second allowed herself to shut her eyes and pretend that this was really Mommy.
And of course, it was! In this world this was Mom, but as with so much else, the Joyce of this Sunnydale was slightly different. She was a smarter, more elegant version. Buffy knew she’d been a successful businesswoman and had only sold her antique shop when she’d left town to care for her sister.
Buffy took a deep breath. This mom knew all about vampires and Slayers, another reality wouldn’t worry her. “Well, you see, I know it sounds kind of weird, but there’s this other Sunnydale where everything and everyone are alike, but not quite. In that world, time moves really fast, Spike and me are absolute enemies, Willow is gay and in love with Tara and Xander likes this totally old demon girl called Anya. Oh yes, and you’ve got a daughter called Dawn who’s really just a lot of green energy sent for us to look after and I died and came back to life and oh, yes, you’re dead! A couple of years ago, the Willow there opened a portal to this world and Spike and I came through ….”
…..“And so Spike obviously prefers Faith and I’ve lost him and it’s all my fault!” Buffy ended the story on a wail of pure grief.
There was a long silence. Joyce let the news that she had died in another life swim to the front of her brain for a few seconds, then she resolutely pushed it away. Not her problem. Nor was any of the vampire business. She’d learnt many years ago, when Buffy was first called, to compartmentalize her life.
She left the vampire world to her daughter whom she knew was superb at everything to do with Slaying, but when it came to relationships, Joyce knew Buffy still had a great deal to learn.
She got up and poured Buffy a glass of milk, watching keenly as her daughter drank it down without pausing. “So why didn’t you just tell Spike that you thought this Ben had killed him when you got back here and found him alive?”
Buffy hugged her knees to her chest, scratching at the dirt encrusted in the grain of the denim. “I’m not sure. I – well – I suppose I just thought I could tell him once I’d got him better again.”
“Or did you hope he’d never find out?”
“I don’t know. It’s all so complicated.”
Joyce smiled. “Nothing new there, then. Come on, Buffy. Is this a Slayer problem, or a Buffy problem?”
Buffy took a deep breath. “How can you separate the two? Aren’t they both me?”
“No, they’re chalk and cheese. My Slayer daughter knows exactly what to do and when to do it. She’s brave, clever and determined. She follows her head and doesn’t often make a wrong decision. My Buffy daughter follows her heart, doubts herself too much and, what is worse, doubts those that love her most.”
Silence filled the room for a while, then Buffy said quietly, “I reckon Slayer Buffy and Daughter Buffy have ended up with a skanky chalky cheesey mess somewhere along the way. I made what I thought were the right decisions to save Gracie from Ben – I’m not sorry about that - but why didn’t I just come straight back once the baby arrived? Why did I believe Spike was dead, without even checking?”
“You thought there was no chance he was alive.”
Buffy laughed but it wasn’t a happy sound. “Oh, so if you believed I was in mortal danger, you’d just accept it and go on with your life without finding out one way or the other? I don’t think so! I abandoned him, Mom! I just couldn’t – couldn’t – “
“Accept that he had gone? Perhaps all the time you were in this other Sunnydale, even though you told yourself he was dead, there was some little part of you that never truly accepted it. So you couldn’t come back because then you might have discovered the final truth.”
Buffy got to her feet, wishing she didn’t feel so tired. “The final truth? About me and Spike? That’s something I don’t think I will ever know. Well, Buffy the wife has made a complete mess of her life but at least Buffy the Slayer can get on with her job.”
Joyce sighed. “Buffy! You make me so cross. You’re doing exactly the same thing again! Stop running away from the truth. You still don’t know for sure that Spike is with Faith now or how he feels about what happened. Why won’t you believe that he loves you? You’re forgetting, I’ve known Spike as long as you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
Buffy bit her lip, then turned and pulled her tangled hair off her face and tied it as tightly as she could, welcoming the pain as it tugged at the skin on her temples. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep.
Joyce picked up the empty milk glass and carried it into the kitchen. She felt she’d failed to make any impression. The stubborn expression on her daughter’s face was far too familiar to mistake. “So, what would your other mom have said to you?”
“What?”
“Your other mother, the me who died in that Sunnydale. What advice do you think she would she have given you about Spike?”
Buffy flinched at the brusqueness of Joyce’s remark. She knew the voice would have been the same, but she was certain the tone would have been softer, more sympathetic, warmer. Or would it? Her mom in the other reality had liked Spike, too. Which was mega weird because in that world he wasn’t part of the family set up. He was detested by her friends, an annoying vampire they put up with because he could be useful.
But there was no denying that her mom had liked him. Buffy felt a little smile flicker across her face as she recalled mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows.
“Pretty much the same as you,” she admitted ruefully. “But what do you want me to do? Go running after him, like some lovesick kid? Beg him to leave Faith and come back to me? I can’t do that, Mom. If he prefers her to me, then – “
She jumped as the glass in Joyce’s hand smashed against the side of the sink and shattered. “Buffy Summers! Stop it! A lovesick kid is just what you’re acting like right now! Stop worrying about your stupid pride, or what he’ll think or any of the hundred and fifty other excuses I’m sure you can come up with. And if you want to know what to say to him, how about telling him that you’re having a baby!”
tbc
Chp 22 Reality Check
Something to Sing About
Chapter 22
Reality check
“How about telling him you’re having a baby!” Joyce’s words rang round the room, echoing through the whole house and bouncing around inside Buffy’s head.
“Baby?” she replied carefully. “There is no baby.” And the words cut, one by one, into her soul, making little wounds that she knew would never heal.
Joyce began to pick up the pieces of the glass that had shattered into the sink. She sighed. “Buffy – I quite understand that you feel I’m an out of date, fuddy-duddy mom, but even I can tell when someone is pregnant. Especially my own daughter.”
She stopped and glanced up sharply. “Oh! Isn’t it Spike’s? Is that the problem? Oh God, Buffy, I never thought – ”
Buffy sat down abruptly and stared at her mother. “Mom, there is no baby! I’m not pregnant. I thought I was – we both thought I was carrying the Key baby, but it turned out to be Faith, not me.”
Joyce frowned and shook her head. “When I was expecting you, I lived on cold milk and pickles for two months! I have never ever seen you eat a pickle before today! And you look – Buffy, with your muscles, you’ll probably not show until the day before you give birth, but to me you look – well, pregnant! When did you have your last – “?
Buffy wasn’t listening. There was a roaring sound inside her head as she feverishly thought back. Weeks, months, passing from one reality to another – she had lost count of time and how her body was reacting. So she hadn’t had a monthly for ages – but then sometimes, if she was exhausted or fighting a battle, she could be really late without –
Suddenly she needed to get out of the house: she could feel the walls closing in on her, even the drip from the faucet was echoing inside her brain, making her head ache.
“Look, Mom, I’ve got to patrol. Can we talk about this later?”
“Buffy – running away won’t help things – ”
“Hey, not running away, look, no running, just walking swiftly to the door because there’s vamps out there just waiting to be staked. Don’t wait up for me - I’ll see you in the morning and believe me, you are not going to becoming a grandmom any time soon!”
She forced a laugh through a mouth that was as dry as dust and left the house before Joyce could find the words to stop her.
Then she was out, the night air cooling her heated skin and she was running, running, houses, trees and street lamps passing in a blur.
She had reached the furthest graveyard before she stopped to take breath, bending double over a granite slab, trying to draw some oxygen into her burning lungs. But she couldn’t out run her thoughts. Mom was wrong! This Joyce Summers in this reality didn’t know her as well as her other mom had done. She hadn’t seen Buffy for months and months – there was no way Mom could tell she was pregnant – just because Buffy had been eating some stupid pickles – and even as she thought it, the craving welled up inside her and she would have given anything for that strong biting flavour inside her mouth.
But that was rubbish. She was not expecting Spike’s baby! Even if they had still been together, still happy, she wouldn’t have believed it, but they weren’t together, he was with Faith now. And anyway, she wasn’t pregnant! And - suddenly she was aware of a vamp rising up behind the gravestone she was leaning on.
The anger boiling inside her burst to the surface and she spun, kicked him so hard in the neck that his head exploded off his body and crumbled into dust that made her cough.
Then another one appeared, smiling vacantly at her, expecting a welcome and she pounded it into the ground, the violence of her attack doing nothing to assuage the panic that was consuming her.
A third – god, what was wrong with these people tonight! How many had died and been turned in the last couple of days? What was this, a feasting time for vamps?
“This is not a good time to rise, believe me,” she muttered and this time she reached for the stake in her belt, drew back her arm, ducked as the vamp swung at her – and froze!
She could see the vamp’s terrified face changing to one of gloating delight as he lurched towards her – and a split second later, there was a blur of black leather and a cloud of dust. Spike stood there, stake in hand, staring at her, his face wary, his eyes shadowed with puzzlement.
“Leaving it a bit late to take him, Slayer, weren’t you? Or was it some sort of test?”
Buffy pushed the stake back in her belt, brushed off vampire dust and shrugged. “Just testing reflexes, speed, that sort of thing.”
Spike leant against a tombstone and gazed up at the stars. “Well, I wouldn’t try that again too soon. He nearly had you, Slayer. He was just about to have a very good day.”
Buffy turned away, not wanting to look at his face. It was too painful. All she could see in her mind was him feeding from Faith. But she knew he was right. She’d frozen. And the reason why was hammering through her body. Just then, just as she had been about to stake the vamp, she’d felt a distinct movement in her stomach!
Mom was right. She could deny it until hell froze over, but at that moment Buffy had known. She was carrying Spike’s child!
Spike glanced at his wife. He knew she hated it when he criticised her fighting skills, but he hadn’t had a lot of choice. Standing still, waiting for a vamp to attack you was hardly Slayer Textbook behaviour. Whatever the bloody test of her reactions she’d been trying out, it hadn’t looked that successful to him. He waited for her to snap back that she could take any vamp, any time of the day or night. But she didn’t. She nodded, almost as if in acceptance of what he’d said and turned away, brushing dust off her jeans, tying back her hair, every inch the business-like Slayer.
“How long have you been back?” he asked. He’d hardly believed his eyes when he’d seen her running through the graveyard. Buffy was here, in this Sunnydale, just as he’d dreamed she was. But this was the real world, not a dream. In reality she hadn’t even bothered to find him, check that he was still alive after Ben had finished with him. No, she’d just gone straight to work, patrolling, killing vamps, being the bloody Slayer.
“Not long. I’m glad to see you’re OK. You escaped from Ben, obviously.”
Spike raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, no problem. Bit of torture never hurt anyone – much!”
Buffy refused to look at him; she knew that once she gazed into his eyes all her self-control would vanish. She began walking towards the cemetery gates, eager to get away, desperate to be on her own so she could think.
“But you seem OK now, obviously healing well. Five by five, as our friend Faith would say!” her voice icily polite, as if they were strangers who’d just been introduced and not man and wife, a couple who’d shared everything from desperate passion to near death.
Spike wondered what she would do if he punched her on the nose? Where had Miss Stuck up Bitch from Hell come from? There was no way he would ever tell her that his ribs were still grating on each other when he walked, that the torn muscles and ligaments pulled asunder were only slowly repairing. If it hadn’t been for Faith’s generosity in letting him feed from her, he wouldn’t be standing here now. And he wondered bitterly, if Buffy would even mind if he told her that.
“Oh, I’m fine, pet,” he drawled. “Been wondering where you were, of course. I take it more time’s passed over there than here.”
Buffy snapped a branch from a bush as she passed, not even seeing the thorns that pierced her hand, or the shudder that ran through Spike’s body at the smell of her blood. Was this her chance to apologise? To tell him that she had been scared to return because once she had known for certain that he was dead then all hope would have been finally extinguished and her life would have been over. “Yes – it was difficult – there was Faith and the baby and – ”
“Hey, you don’t need to explain to me, Slayer. I know all about the Slayer’s mission, don’t forget.”
The words of apology died in her throat. He sounded so off-hand, as if he couldn’t have cared less if he’d ever seen her again or not. Well, he would feel like that now he had Faith, of course.
“Mom’s back,” she said suddenly.
Spike blinked. “Bloody hell! Joyce is alive in this world – of course – that must be…seeing her…speaking to her – are you OK, pet?”
“What?” Buffy didn’t seem to see his out-stretched hand. She was gazing round as she walked, as if all her attention was focused on waiting for another vampire to rise. “Oh, you mean – well, yes, it was weird – of course it was. But even though they were both mom, this one is – well, different.” She laughed and Spike frowned. It wasn’t a happy sound. “She’s tougher, much tougher.”
“It’ll be good to see her.”
“Oh, she’s not staying. Just a flying visit. I wouldn’t bother…”
Right! Well, he didn’t need a bloody road map to realise what she was saying. Stay away, you’re not wanted, don’t bother the Summers family any more. God, whatever had happened to her while she was back in the other Sunnydale seemed to have made a lasting impression. Suddenly he wasn’t even good enough to talk to Joyce! Something must have caused this change. Was it Angel? Had Liam come back into her life during those months she’d abandoned him to his fate here? Or was there some new guy – some human idiot who felt he could take a Slayer into his life?
He wasn’t going to beg for her attention – or her love. He’d gone down that road before, too many times. As long as he knew she was OK, as long as he could stay around to check up on her occasionally, that would have to do. It would probably kill him, but be better than nothing.
“Right – I’ll be on my way. Faith’s back in town, did you know? I promised I’d meet up with her for a drink. Care to join us? She doesn’t know you came through the portal, too. She thinks you’re still in the other Sunnydale, helping Dawn with her Key kid.”
Buffy walked slowly towards the cemetery gates, aware of the vampire inches from her shoulder. She’d never fought so hard in her life to control her emotions, to stop what she was feeling from showing on her face. Faith! She didn’t need a road map to realise what he was saying. Faith had fed him; Faith was the one he wanted to be with. He couldn’t wait to get back to her. Obviously he no longer had the slightest bit of interest in his wife or how she lived her life from now on.
Buffy felt the cold glow of miserable satisfaction. She’d been right! Faith must have come back here several times during those two months without telling anyone. She’d found Spike, helped him, nursed him, fed him – made love to him, knowing Faith! It was just a great pity she hadn’t told Buffy. Then she could have remained in the other Sunnydale and not concerned herself with this world.
Well, Spike was welcome to her. And it made telling him about the baby a non-starter. She could just picture his face – the surprise, the pleasure, the determined look of responsibility and pity that would show in his eyes. Spike would feel sorry for her! And she would rather die than experience that.
“Faith’s here?” she said, trying to banish the picture of Spike feeding on the dark haired Slayer, trying to inject surprise into her voice and proud of how normal she sounded. “She’s left Gracie with Dawn, I suppose.”
Spike shrugged. “You know Faith, pet. Even the one from this world marches to a different drummer than the rest of us. She reckons she’d never have got Gracie away from Dawn anyway!”
Buffy was forced to nod in agreement and was just about to tell him that the portal had vanished when he said,
“I suppose you’ll be going back soon. Reckon I’ll stay on here, just for a while. Make sure Faith can manage the vamps and demons on her own.”
Buffy pushed the gates open and stared down the empty road outside the railings. She had to get away from him – fast. Every second she spent in his company led her closer and closer to telling him the truth. She turned, raising her chin; her eyes steady and empty as they looked at him.
“Well, you know what us Slayers are like, Spike. We make rotten mothers. I’m sure you’re only too glad it was Faith who had the Key baby and not me!”
Spike met her blank stare with a sneer. Had she no idea of the pain he’d gone through when he realised she was not pregnant? Pain for him but also pain for her, for the loss she’d tried to hide so bravely?
“Last Slayer I knew with a kid, I killed, pet.” And with a half salute, he turned and stalked away back into the darkness.
Buffy watched him go, then swung the gates shut, the clang of the latch echoing inside her head with a finality that sent shivers through her. Then, once again, almost in protest, came that strange sensation from her stomach as the baby kicked out. Or was it beckoning to its father? She would never know.
The black leather figure vanished into the dark, the platinum hair gleamed for another second, then that, too, had gone. Buffy turned and faced the empty road. God, how she wanted to be home. Not in this world, but the other Sunnydale where no one would know about Spike and Faith. But as she walked along the empty street, her footsteps echoing on the sidewalk, she realised that without the portal, she had no way of getting back.
And – even more important – she would have to tell Joyce that she’d been right. That she was going to be a grandmom in a few months time!
tbc
Chapter 22
Reality check
“How about telling him you’re having a baby!” Joyce’s words rang round the room, echoing through the whole house and bouncing around inside Buffy’s head.
“Baby?” she replied carefully. “There is no baby.” And the words cut, one by one, into her soul, making little wounds that she knew would never heal.
Joyce began to pick up the pieces of the glass that had shattered into the sink. She sighed. “Buffy – I quite understand that you feel I’m an out of date, fuddy-duddy mom, but even I can tell when someone is pregnant. Especially my own daughter.”
She stopped and glanced up sharply. “Oh! Isn’t it Spike’s? Is that the problem? Oh God, Buffy, I never thought – ”
Buffy sat down abruptly and stared at her mother. “Mom, there is no baby! I’m not pregnant. I thought I was – we both thought I was carrying the Key baby, but it turned out to be Faith, not me.”
Joyce frowned and shook her head. “When I was expecting you, I lived on cold milk and pickles for two months! I have never ever seen you eat a pickle before today! And you look – Buffy, with your muscles, you’ll probably not show until the day before you give birth, but to me you look – well, pregnant! When did you have your last – “?
Buffy wasn’t listening. There was a roaring sound inside her head as she feverishly thought back. Weeks, months, passing from one reality to another – she had lost count of time and how her body was reacting. So she hadn’t had a monthly for ages – but then sometimes, if she was exhausted or fighting a battle, she could be really late without –
Suddenly she needed to get out of the house: she could feel the walls closing in on her, even the drip from the faucet was echoing inside her brain, making her head ache.
“Look, Mom, I’ve got to patrol. Can we talk about this later?”
“Buffy – running away won’t help things – ”
“Hey, not running away, look, no running, just walking swiftly to the door because there’s vamps out there just waiting to be staked. Don’t wait up for me - I’ll see you in the morning and believe me, you are not going to becoming a grandmom any time soon!”
She forced a laugh through a mouth that was as dry as dust and left the house before Joyce could find the words to stop her.
Then she was out, the night air cooling her heated skin and she was running, running, houses, trees and street lamps passing in a blur.
She had reached the furthest graveyard before she stopped to take breath, bending double over a granite slab, trying to draw some oxygen into her burning lungs. But she couldn’t out run her thoughts. Mom was wrong! This Joyce Summers in this reality didn’t know her as well as her other mom had done. She hadn’t seen Buffy for months and months – there was no way Mom could tell she was pregnant – just because Buffy had been eating some stupid pickles – and even as she thought it, the craving welled up inside her and she would have given anything for that strong biting flavour inside her mouth.
But that was rubbish. She was not expecting Spike’s baby! Even if they had still been together, still happy, she wouldn’t have believed it, but they weren’t together, he was with Faith now. And anyway, she wasn’t pregnant! And - suddenly she was aware of a vamp rising up behind the gravestone she was leaning on.
The anger boiling inside her burst to the surface and she spun, kicked him so hard in the neck that his head exploded off his body and crumbled into dust that made her cough.
Then another one appeared, smiling vacantly at her, expecting a welcome and she pounded it into the ground, the violence of her attack doing nothing to assuage the panic that was consuming her.
A third – god, what was wrong with these people tonight! How many had died and been turned in the last couple of days? What was this, a feasting time for vamps?
“This is not a good time to rise, believe me,” she muttered and this time she reached for the stake in her belt, drew back her arm, ducked as the vamp swung at her – and froze!
She could see the vamp’s terrified face changing to one of gloating delight as he lurched towards her – and a split second later, there was a blur of black leather and a cloud of dust. Spike stood there, stake in hand, staring at her, his face wary, his eyes shadowed with puzzlement.
“Leaving it a bit late to take him, Slayer, weren’t you? Or was it some sort of test?”
Buffy pushed the stake back in her belt, brushed off vampire dust and shrugged. “Just testing reflexes, speed, that sort of thing.”
Spike leant against a tombstone and gazed up at the stars. “Well, I wouldn’t try that again too soon. He nearly had you, Slayer. He was just about to have a very good day.”
Buffy turned away, not wanting to look at his face. It was too painful. All she could see in her mind was him feeding from Faith. But she knew he was right. She’d frozen. And the reason why was hammering through her body. Just then, just as she had been about to stake the vamp, she’d felt a distinct movement in her stomach!
Mom was right. She could deny it until hell froze over, but at that moment Buffy had known. She was carrying Spike’s child!
Spike glanced at his wife. He knew she hated it when he criticised her fighting skills, but he hadn’t had a lot of choice. Standing still, waiting for a vamp to attack you was hardly Slayer Textbook behaviour. Whatever the bloody test of her reactions she’d been trying out, it hadn’t looked that successful to him. He waited for her to snap back that she could take any vamp, any time of the day or night. But she didn’t. She nodded, almost as if in acceptance of what he’d said and turned away, brushing dust off her jeans, tying back her hair, every inch the business-like Slayer.
“How long have you been back?” he asked. He’d hardly believed his eyes when he’d seen her running through the graveyard. Buffy was here, in this Sunnydale, just as he’d dreamed she was. But this was the real world, not a dream. In reality she hadn’t even bothered to find him, check that he was still alive after Ben had finished with him. No, she’d just gone straight to work, patrolling, killing vamps, being the bloody Slayer.
“Not long. I’m glad to see you’re OK. You escaped from Ben, obviously.”
Spike raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, no problem. Bit of torture never hurt anyone – much!”
Buffy refused to look at him; she knew that once she gazed into his eyes all her self-control would vanish. She began walking towards the cemetery gates, eager to get away, desperate to be on her own so she could think.
“But you seem OK now, obviously healing well. Five by five, as our friend Faith would say!” her voice icily polite, as if they were strangers who’d just been introduced and not man and wife, a couple who’d shared everything from desperate passion to near death.
Spike wondered what she would do if he punched her on the nose? Where had Miss Stuck up Bitch from Hell come from? There was no way he would ever tell her that his ribs were still grating on each other when he walked, that the torn muscles and ligaments pulled asunder were only slowly repairing. If it hadn’t been for Faith’s generosity in letting him feed from her, he wouldn’t be standing here now. And he wondered bitterly, if Buffy would even mind if he told her that.
“Oh, I’m fine, pet,” he drawled. “Been wondering where you were, of course. I take it more time’s passed over there than here.”
Buffy snapped a branch from a bush as she passed, not even seeing the thorns that pierced her hand, or the shudder that ran through Spike’s body at the smell of her blood. Was this her chance to apologise? To tell him that she had been scared to return because once she had known for certain that he was dead then all hope would have been finally extinguished and her life would have been over. “Yes – it was difficult – there was Faith and the baby and – ”
“Hey, you don’t need to explain to me, Slayer. I know all about the Slayer’s mission, don’t forget.”
The words of apology died in her throat. He sounded so off-hand, as if he couldn’t have cared less if he’d ever seen her again or not. Well, he would feel like that now he had Faith, of course.
“Mom’s back,” she said suddenly.
Spike blinked. “Bloody hell! Joyce is alive in this world – of course – that must be…seeing her…speaking to her – are you OK, pet?”
“What?” Buffy didn’t seem to see his out-stretched hand. She was gazing round as she walked, as if all her attention was focused on waiting for another vampire to rise. “Oh, you mean – well, yes, it was weird – of course it was. But even though they were both mom, this one is – well, different.” She laughed and Spike frowned. It wasn’t a happy sound. “She’s tougher, much tougher.”
“It’ll be good to see her.”
“Oh, she’s not staying. Just a flying visit. I wouldn’t bother…”
Right! Well, he didn’t need a bloody road map to realise what she was saying. Stay away, you’re not wanted, don’t bother the Summers family any more. God, whatever had happened to her while she was back in the other Sunnydale seemed to have made a lasting impression. Suddenly he wasn’t even good enough to talk to Joyce! Something must have caused this change. Was it Angel? Had Liam come back into her life during those months she’d abandoned him to his fate here? Or was there some new guy – some human idiot who felt he could take a Slayer into his life?
He wasn’t going to beg for her attention – or her love. He’d gone down that road before, too many times. As long as he knew she was OK, as long as he could stay around to check up on her occasionally, that would have to do. It would probably kill him, but be better than nothing.
“Right – I’ll be on my way. Faith’s back in town, did you know? I promised I’d meet up with her for a drink. Care to join us? She doesn’t know you came through the portal, too. She thinks you’re still in the other Sunnydale, helping Dawn with her Key kid.”
Buffy walked slowly towards the cemetery gates, aware of the vampire inches from her shoulder. She’d never fought so hard in her life to control her emotions, to stop what she was feeling from showing on her face. Faith! She didn’t need a road map to realise what he was saying. Faith had fed him; Faith was the one he wanted to be with. He couldn’t wait to get back to her. Obviously he no longer had the slightest bit of interest in his wife or how she lived her life from now on.
Buffy felt the cold glow of miserable satisfaction. She’d been right! Faith must have come back here several times during those two months without telling anyone. She’d found Spike, helped him, nursed him, fed him – made love to him, knowing Faith! It was just a great pity she hadn’t told Buffy. Then she could have remained in the other Sunnydale and not concerned herself with this world.
Well, Spike was welcome to her. And it made telling him about the baby a non-starter. She could just picture his face – the surprise, the pleasure, the determined look of responsibility and pity that would show in his eyes. Spike would feel sorry for her! And she would rather die than experience that.
“Faith’s here?” she said, trying to banish the picture of Spike feeding on the dark haired Slayer, trying to inject surprise into her voice and proud of how normal she sounded. “She’s left Gracie with Dawn, I suppose.”
Spike shrugged. “You know Faith, pet. Even the one from this world marches to a different drummer than the rest of us. She reckons she’d never have got Gracie away from Dawn anyway!”
Buffy was forced to nod in agreement and was just about to tell him that the portal had vanished when he said,
“I suppose you’ll be going back soon. Reckon I’ll stay on here, just for a while. Make sure Faith can manage the vamps and demons on her own.”
Buffy pushed the gates open and stared down the empty road outside the railings. She had to get away from him – fast. Every second she spent in his company led her closer and closer to telling him the truth. She turned, raising her chin; her eyes steady and empty as they looked at him.
“Well, you know what us Slayers are like, Spike. We make rotten mothers. I’m sure you’re only too glad it was Faith who had the Key baby and not me!”
Spike met her blank stare with a sneer. Had she no idea of the pain he’d gone through when he realised she was not pregnant? Pain for him but also pain for her, for the loss she’d tried to hide so bravely?
“Last Slayer I knew with a kid, I killed, pet.” And with a half salute, he turned and stalked away back into the darkness.
Buffy watched him go, then swung the gates shut, the clang of the latch echoing inside her head with a finality that sent shivers through her. Then, once again, almost in protest, came that strange sensation from her stomach as the baby kicked out. Or was it beckoning to its father? She would never know.
The black leather figure vanished into the dark, the platinum hair gleamed for another second, then that, too, had gone. Buffy turned and faced the empty road. God, how she wanted to be home. Not in this world, but the other Sunnydale where no one would know about Spike and Faith. But as she walked along the empty street, her footsteps echoing on the sidewalk, she realised that without the portal, she had no way of getting back.
And – even more important – she would have to tell Joyce that she’d been right. That she was going to be a grandmom in a few months time!
tbc
Chp 23 Revelations
Something to Sing About
Chapter 23
Revelations
Willy’s Bar in the alternate Sunnydale was a far superior place to the one Spike knew in the other town; for example, it had a long, highly polished bar instead of the old, scarred pine affair that had absorbed so much blood and whisky over the years. There were soft lights, chairs with cushions and somewhere a selection of tunes from old musicals was softly playing. No one was arguing, fighting or swearing; demons and vampires sat quietly nursing their drinks, eating peanuts, discussing politics and the appalling state of the local blood banks. Spike hated it with a passion that defied belief.
There was an unwritten rule that all disagreements had to be taken outside and any reference to horns, tentacles or colour of skin and scales was frowned on by a Willy who had told Spike that he was a reformed character since Ben had been vanquished. He’d even offered Spike some self-help books to read and had only looked on sorrowfully when the vampire tore them up and tossed them in the street.
Spike sat nursing his fifth glass of Scotch, scowling down at the patterns he was drawing on the bar from a few spilt drops.
He’d decided a couple of months ago that he hated this Sunnydale. Since Ben had gone, the inhabitants had adopted a lifestyle that was based on being nice to everyone. Blood banks had been set up for vamps so they didn’t have to feed off humans, demons were asked to keep to certain parts of the town and not get involved with local politics and so far everyone was keeping to the rules.
Spike was bored and still aching with the pain and anger of losing his wife, a pain that didn’t seem to have diminished one iota since he’d walked away from her.
He hadn’t seen Buffy since their acrimonious parting but he’d heard from various people that she hadn’t left town, which surprised him. He’d thought she’d have gone through the portal like a rabbit down a hole, back to live permanently with Dawn and the Key baby. But then the Slayer was quite capable of travelling backwards and forwards between the two places if it suited her.
The other friends who might have been in contact with her – Xander, Tara and Willow – were over in England. Willow still hadn’t recovered from Oz’s death at Ben’s hands and the short trip abroad to give her something new to think about had turned into a much longer journey.
Buffy hadn’t been patrolling in this Sunnydale; Spike knew that, because Faith was half-heartedly working the cemeteries and had mentioned the other evening that she never saw Buffy. He knew that Faith, too, was bored with this town. No one really worried if vamps were staked or not. There was no need for a Slayer here. She was talking of moving on and he knew she wanted him to go with her.
“Well, perhaps I’ll do just that,” he muttered under his breath, glaring round at the luxurious surroundings. He liked Faith and would always be grateful to her for saving his life when Buffy couldn’t be bothered to come back for him after Ben’s torture session. He knew Faith wanted more from him than friendship. Well, that wouldn’t be difficult! A man would have to be made out of steel not to feel attracted to that body.
Except – Spike knew it would just be sex. Which was OK and he wasn’t going to turn it down if they did leave Sunnydale and travel together. But – he didn’t love Faith. No, his stupid, bloody mind was still tied to a certain blonde girl who’d discarded him when the complications of being his wife got too much for her.
A couple of nights lately he’d walked past her house, but the windows were dark and he could sense it was empty. He wondered if Joyce and Buffy had gone away together – for a holiday, perhaps. He wished he’d had a chance to speak to this Joyce. She liked him; he knew that, almost as much as the Joyce Summers who’d died.
Spike had been tempted to break in and use the portal in the kitchen to get back to the other Sunnydale. Oh, not to stay there. He knew he wouldn’t be welcome. But he might head up to Los Angeles and annoy Angel. That was always fun. And at least that Angel was still alive. The one here – well, just dust drifting in the wind – which was kind of sad, but satisfying in an odd sort of way.
And he knew that as soon as he reached the portal exit in the cemetery on the other side, all his memories of this Sunnydale would vanish. He’d experienced it once before and wiping away the fact that Buffy was his wife, that people here liked him, had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
But this time – well, it would be a relief. It was odd that the memories of that Sunnydale lingered in the mind here, but once they went through the portal, it was as if nothing had happened.
“Well, nothing bloody well has! He threw back the last mouthful of Scotch and banged the glass on the counter for Willy to give him a refill.
The barman cast a shrewd glance at his customer and decided that he was still just the right side of sober. Hopefully he would stumble away into the night before he became aggressive and began breaking up the furniture and fittings.
“Saw the Slayer last week,” he said casually as he poured the whisky.
Spike grunted.
“She was looking good – great in the circumstances. You could have told us all, Spike. You know, your friends here in town. We’d have had a few drinks, sort of celebrated.”
Spike raised his head and stared blearily across the bar. “Celebrate what? I don’t understand one bloody word of what you’re saying.”
“Your wife – the Slayer – Buffy – she’s expecting, isn’t she?”
“Expecting what?” Spike squinted at Willy, wondering if he’d added something to the Scotch - it was making him light-headed.
“A baby, of course. Must admit I didn’t know vampires could produce, but then you’re a law to yourself and what with all the funny magics that Ben was producing, I don’t suppose – ” He looked up from where he was polishing a glass to realise he was talking to an empty bar-stool. Spike had gone and what was more peculiar, an almost full glass of whisky was still standing on the bar.
Buffy put down her suitcase and yawned: she felt exhausted. The Greyhound trip back from her aunt’s had been long and tedious. Leaving her Mom there had been hard. Every time she said goodbye to this Joyce, she wondered if she would ever see her again. Which was stupid, because, hey, this Mom was fine, no headaches, no money worries and no obsessing over having a Slayer for a daughter.
Joyce had promised to return a couple of weeks before the baby was due to arrive, but said her sister needed her more at the moment than her daughter. Buffy had sworn that she wouldn’t patrol, or get into any fights or do anything stupid.
Not that there’s any chance of that happening, she thought wryly as she peered inside the refrigerator to see if there was any soda. She was well aware that Faith had been looking after the vampire population – such as it was. Life here in this Sunnydale was so weird. Buffy hated it. Not that it wasn’t a good thing that people were being nice to each other, but setting up blood banks for vampires just seemed – well, whatever it was, it wasn’t natural!
Her mom insisted there was no need for her to stay in Sunnydale any more; that the Hellmouth was inactive, that she could stop being a Slayer now that Faith was working here. But for some reason, Buffy couldn’t face leaving town permanently. What if Dawn and Willow managed to open another portal through from the other side? She knew that however engrossed Dawn was with Gracie, she would still do everything she could to help Buffy get back.
And she would go – wouldn’t she? What was there to stay here for?
“So – when’s the happy event, then?”
Buffy jumped, the soda fizzing out of the can onto the floor. She hadn’t sensed him standing there in the doorway and realised she must have left it unlatched when she came in. She stared at her husband: he was leaning against the doorframe and although he looked casual, she could see that his hands were clenched into fists inside his jeans’ pockets. And his casual stance was belied by the fury she could see blazing in his eyes.
She shrugged and sipped what was left of the soda – her mouth had suddenly gone very dry and she felt the baby jump inside her, almost as if it had recognised it’s father’s voice. She was suddenly extremely glad that she was still so relatively small. Slayer muscles were holding the baby tight and she knew she didn’t look as far along as she was.
“No wonder you were in no hurry to get back to this Sunnydale to see if I was still alive, sweetheart! Too busy shagging whoever the father of your brat is, obviously. Hey, I suppose I can divorce you for adultery. Bet that hasn’t happened to too many Slayers before now.”
“We’re not married in the other Sunnydale,” Buffy said through dry lips.
“Oh, yes, how could I forget? Only in this one. Where you don’t mind it being known that you’re up the duff and everyone and his dog thinks it’s mine. Well, hope you’re not looking for any financial support from dear old Dad, because you won’t get any!”
Buffy lifted her chin defiantly. “I wouldn’t take a nickel from you, Spike. I’d rather go out on the street and beg.” She was beginning to shake with anger and felt the baby move anxiously, disturbed by the flood of emotion coursing through her body. How dare he! He was the one who’d gone off with another woman; he was the one who’d fed off Faith, had obviously wanted Faith and had got her. Not that that would have been difficult, because hey, Faith would sleep with anything that had a heartbeat – except he didn’t – but – oh damn him to Hell!
She turned away so he couldn’t see the tears forming in her eyes.
“So who is the father? Come on, Buffy, what’s the big secret? Don’t tell me good old Xander managed to get his leg over when you went back with Faith and the Key baby? Bloody hell, he must have thought all his Christmases had come at once. Come at once – hey that’s funny – do you get it? Come – once?”
“Shut up, Spike! Stop being such a pig. What difference is it to you who the father is, as long as it isn’t you? Oh don’t worry, I could tell from your face when we realised it was Faith who was carrying Gracie and not me that you were overjoyed I wasn’t pregnant.”
Spike strode forward. “That’s a lie! And you know it, Slayer. I was as upset as you were. I believed that was our baby, our miracle.” He stopped and sneered at her, desperate for the pain he was feeling not to show on his face, thankful that all the years of living with Angel, Dru and Darla, learning to hide his feelings, were now paying dividends. “I thought you were as upset as I was. But obviously not. And now you’ve got your own kid on the way and one I have no part in. I’m just surprised you bothered to stay around in this Sunnydale. I’m sure the Daddy will be waiting for you to get back to him!”
Buffy felt her temper boil over. She clenched her fists: if he came one stop closer she would hit him! “Yes, he’s waiting for me, just as Faith is out there waiting for you! So what are you doing hanging round here like some big loser? Go back to your girlfriend. I’m sure she’ll be only too glad to let you have a little taste. Does her blood make you feel good, Spike? Jeez, how many other girls have you fed from whilst we’ve been married? You only had to ask, you know.”
The tears she’d been trying to prevent finally poured down her face and she whispered as she turned away, “You only had to ask.”
Spike grabbed hold of her arm, roaring, “You bloody well weren’t there, Slayer! You left me to die. You weren’t there.”
Buffy twisted away, the feel of his fingers burning into her skin. She tried to move backwards, tripped over her suitcase and felt herself falling until strong arms caught her before she hit the floor.
Spike stood holding her close to him and a deep wave of weariness swept over her. All she wanted was to put her head on his shoulder and sleep. Then, suddenly, she felt the baby give a great kick and winced.
Spike blinked, the anger faded from his face and a look of complete bewilderment appeared. “Buffy – ” he said hoarsely – “I can sense – feel – that’s my baby you’re carrying!”
tbc
“
Chp 24 End Song
Something to Sing About
Chapter 38 End Song
“It’s my baby! Mine.”
Buffy looked into his eyes and felt herself drowning in the joy, terror and sheer exaltation she could see in them. She wanted to say, ‘Don’t look like that! Please – no one should ever be that happy because how can that be a good thing? If everything goes wrong, how will you cope? It will hurt you so much.’
“I don’t understand – how?”
For the first time in weeks, Buffy found herself trying to smile. “Well, as far as I remember, it was the usual way, but if you need me to draw you a diagram, I expect I can jog your memory!”
Spike, whose hands were still clenched round her arms, shook her gently, then looked horrified. “Sorry, pet! I meant, this can’t happen, can it?” A look of alarm shot across his face. “ Is everything OK, Slayer? I mean, really OK.”
Buffy eased herself away. She could hear the concern in his voice; he was worrying about the child. “The baby’s fine, Spike. And no, I haven’t the faintest idea how we managed this. Something to do with being in an alternate universe where the rules don’t apply, I suppose. When Willow gets back from England, I’ll ask her if she’s got some old book she can study.”
“You haven’t told her yet? Or Xander?”
Buffy shook her head. “Mom knows – and now you.”
“So all the time we thought you were carrying the Key baby, you were pregnant after all?”
“Seems like it, doesn’t it?” Buffy said, running her hand gently over her stomach, wishing the baby wasn’t kicking so hard every time it heard Spike’s voice.
“And you’re OK?”
She found a glass and poured herself water. “Oh, I’m five by five, Spike, as your girlfriend would say!”
“Don’t call her that! Faith’s just a friend – a good mate – nothing more.”
The glass slipped from Buffy’s fingers and smashed into the sink. “You fed from her! I saw you!” She started to pick up the broken shards, then winced as a jagged edge sliced into her finger. She stared at the welling scarlet drop, then whirled round to the vampire, shaking her finger in his face. “Here – my blood – take it!”
Eyes golden, Spike vamped out, his hand flying out to catch her arm. “Don’t you understand,” he hissed, “I was dying. She saved my life. You – weren’t – there! You didn’t come back for me!” He shimmered back into human face, the anger vanishing as quickly as it had come. Before she could move, he’d taken her finger, slid it between his lips and she felt his tongue against her flesh in a caress which was as tender as their deepest kiss.
He released her finger; the cut had stopped bleeding. Buffy had the oddest sensation: the baby seemed to quiver, stop kicking and settle down inside her. She stared at this man who meant everything to her. In this world, her husband; in both worlds, the father of her child.
“How old are you, Spike?” she asked suddenly.
A raised eyebrow and a grin. “Worried about the age gap, pet? Bit late in the day. I’m not getting any older or younger. I’ll be the same age when our child is six and again I might well see his sixtieth birthday!”
“I’ll be a very old lady by then.”
Spike nodded. “Problem we’ve always had, pet. Accept it and move on, that’s what we’ve always done.”
Buffy nodded and sank down onto a kitchen chair, gazing up at him, her eyes enormous in her pale face. She’d built the wall between them and now she knew this was her only chance to take it down, one brick at a time.
“That’s why I didn’t come back. Can you see that? I thought you were dead, that Ben had killed you. Yes, I should have checked, moved on as you say. That’s what we’ve always done, isn’t it? Fought, solved the problem, moved on. But we’ve always done that together. I couldn’t without you, so – so – ”
“So you pretended I was still alive?” Spike frowned, puzzled.
“No! I thought you were dead, but I just couldn’t face knowing for certain. All the time I was back home with Dawn and Gracie, months went past. I didn’t forget that only days would have gone by in this world, but I refused to think about it. All the time I concentrated on Dawn and Gracie, you were alive in my mind, just not - not there!”
“But you did come back to check eventually.”
“Yes,” Buffy whispered. “I couldn’t talk about you to Willow and Xander at home. They were delighted you were dead. Here they’re your friends. I knew they would grieve with me. So I came and it was a miracle - you were still alive! But you were feeding from Faith. So I thought – I thought - ”
Spike flung himself into the chair next to her. “You think too much, Slayer. That’s always been your problem.”
“You thought the worst of me, too, don’t forget.”
He nodded. “You’re right – I did. I would bloody well have sworn on your life that you would have come straight back through the portal to rescue me from Ben once you’d got Faith safely away. I waited and waited. I couldn’t see, but I knew I would sense when you were there – and you never came. So, I thought – ”
“Now who was thinking too much? Didn’t it cross your mind that something might have happened to me in the other Sunnydale?”
Spike shook his head. “I’d have known,” he said with unshakeable certainty. And Buffy finally admitted to herself that she had known, too. Deep down inside her, if Ben had killed him, she would have felt it. She just hadn’t trusted her love for him enough. Spike never questioned what he felt; she did, all the time, couldn’t believe anything this deep and wonderful could really be true. Everyone she loved left her – except him.
“Bloody hell, Buffy, with the problems we have, do you reckon that between us we might make one fairly good parent?” Spike asked. “That is if you want me around in your life, Slayer. I’ll understand if you don’t. As long as you and the kid are both OK, I can back off, stay here while you go home.”
Buffy sighed. “Take a look round the kitchen, Spike. Notice anything missing?”
It didn’t take long. “Bloody hell! The portal’s gone!”
“Exactly. I’m not going anywhere. Mom’s coming back in a couple of weeks and I intend to have this child upstairs in our bedroom. And if you’re not holding my hand so I can scream and swear at you just like they do in the films, then don’t bother coming around with flowers and candy afterwards!”
Spike was silent for so long that Buffy began to wonder if he was changing his mind. He ran his hands across his face and scrunched his fingers through his hair. “Bloody hell, Slayer, I’m going to be a father! I’m the one who needs his hand holding. Listen, if we do this, we do it together, but you have to decide now if you want me involved. I mean, what do we tell the kid when it’s old enough to know its old man’s a vampire? Perhaps it would be better if I just – went away.”
Buffy stared at the man sitting next to her, saw that these doubts weren’t about her, they were about him. The look in his eyes told her that he believed he wasn’t good enough. She took a deep breath. This was their last chance and it was up to her. “Do you remember how all this started?”
Spike frowned and gestured towards her stomach. “Well, we were in bed and – ”
She smacked his hand, grinning as he winced. Then she picked it up and placed it on top of her bump. “We were sworn enemies then Willow did a spell when Oz left town.”
“Poor Willow! She’s lost him in both worlds.”
Buffy winced and nodded. “But we got engaged and it felt – ”
“It felt right.”
“Yes, because in this world we were already living together and then we came through the portal and had to face Cordelia and Angel. At the end of that, we ended up getting married.”
“Best thing I’ve ever done.” He patted her stomach.
“Forget the marriage and baby bit. Go back to when we got engaged. I don’t expect you to remember, but we had lots of plans for the wedding and I wanted a certain song – “
“The Wind Beneath My Wings.”
Buffy stared at him. “You do remember!”
Spike shrugged, his eyes gleaming. “God awful song, pet, bloody dreary, but then, if you liked it – ”
“I liked the words! I still do. I’m not…I’m not very good at saying what I feel. When that demon Sweet came to Sunnydale, it was so easy to sing how I felt. I wish I’d sung the song to you then.”
Spike started to smile, then realised she was deadly serious. “Remind me, pet.”
Buffy took a deep breath. The wall was nearly down now, just one more brick to go, then there would be no going back, nowhere to hide. “It’s the words near the end – they say, ‘It might have appeared to go unnoticed, But I’ve got it all here in my heart, I want you to know I know the truth, I would be nothing without you.’”
There was a long silence, then Spike stood up and pulled her into his arms. The wall between them was down now and Buffy felt every nerve in her body tingle as she realised that the world hadn’t ended, that whatever challenges were thrown at them, they would overcome them.
“So we move on, Slayer,” he said softly into her hair, then smiled as someone kicked him. “The three of us.”
“Yes.”
“No regrets?”
“None.”
“Even though you can’t go back, see Niblet and the Key baby?”
Buffy tightened her arms round his neck. “Dawn knows where I am. She knows I’m OK. One day, perhaps, Willow will manage to open another portal and she can come through. But we’re not going back, Spike. I’ve given you up twice now. There isn’t going to be a third time!”
“So we stay in this Sunnydale?”
Buffy shook her head. “This is Faith’s job. No, we’re moving on, Spike. We’ve the whole of this world to explore.” She kissed him fiercely, the hunger between them burning like a flame, then said, “But wherever we go, we go together.”
They stood, locked in each other’s arms, not needing to say anything else. Then Buffy smiled. Spike was singing softly to her once again.
“Did you ever know that you’re my hero
And everything I’d like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle
But you are the wind beneath my wings.”
Ends
© The Wind beneath by Wings: Larry Henley/Jeff Silbar
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