The Girl With Kaleidoscope Eyes

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five

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In the end, Angel goes up with the school. Buffy almost wishes she can feel guilty about it, since it's her fault that he's in the building when she and Dawn shoot it to hell and back, but she'd be lying. All she can feel now is relief and happiness that everything she despises is gone, and everything she loves is still standing.

More importantly, Spike is still standing.

There's a point during the battle when he's blindsided by one of the Turok-han and goes down. She hears his roar of rage before he disappears from her sight, and she flies into a wild, panicked terror, a banshee-like shriek emitting from her throat as she elbows aside the younger girls and beheads anything vaguely bat-shaped that comes her way until she finds him again. Sprawled over top of the demon, his teeth buried in the being's torn throat, his beautiful face is tarnished with the thick, gooey blood of the creature that has dared to strike him.

In the face of her overwhelming relief at finding him undead and well, and still trembling from the fear that has stricken her with the thought of losing him, Anya's glamour suddenly shudders and fails, and Buffy's demon thrusts itself to the fore in the midst of a dozen new Slayers.

She flings herself at her mate, ignoring the shrieks of startled young girls and the stricken faces of any original Scoobies within the vicinity. Her lips close over Spike's in stark joy, disregarding the messiness of his face and the fact that there is still a battle raging around them. She's counting herself the luckiest bitch on (or rather, in) the Hellmouth that her man is just that damn vicious and strong.

Without missing a beat, her head suddenly shoots up with awareness, and she grabs Spike's hand, calling a retreat for the girls still alive as they make their way back up. A strangled cry of her name stops her in her tracks, and she turns back to look at Angel, Spike's arms locked around her and his eyes following hers.

Angel stares back at her in despair, his eyes focused on her demonic visage and the linked hands she shares with her Sire before he nods in resignation. Buffy nods back in thanks for the sacrifice he's making and then she and Spike catapult themselves out of the Hellmouth and back into the high school, fleeing to the saving grace that the shade of the DeSoto provides for Spike. Anya, Dawn and Giles are in the backseat with the remote control detonator.

Thanks to both Summers girls, Sunnydale High goes up in a violent explosion the likes of which Mayor Richard Wilkins only wished he'd been able to see as they speed away. The dynamite stashed within the school and the Hellmouth's entrance the night before the attack eliminates everything in its path and creates the beginnings of a massive crater that's only broadened by the shaft of sheer, white light that emanates at the center where Angel's body used to be and doesn't stop until it reaches the sky.

If anyone had still been in Sunnydale and looking on, they'd have been completely dumbfounded by the odd sight that they made -- the tank-like DeSoto with the blacked out windows barreling out of the town at 80 miles an hour, followed at an equally alarming speed by a large yellow school bus stuffed to the brim and bursting with teenage girls, witches, carpenters and a few normal men thrown in for good measure.

By the time they stop, Sunnydale and all of its monuments -- the thirteen cemeteries, the house on Revello Drive, the Bronze, Spike's crypt and all of the memories of the life she'd once lived -- are nothing but a giant hole in the ground.

As if to punctuate the devastation, Spike just barely backs the DeSoto into the You Are Now Leaving Sunnydale sign, the bumper and the tailfins of the car just swiping it; there's a loud creaking noise, and suddenly the sign falls backwards into the depths of the basin and out of their sights. It lands with a soft, metallic clatter.

Buffy turns to stare disbelievingly at Spike and he looks back bemusedly, then shrugs, grins, and says, "Couldn't resist, love."

And then she's in his arms, mewling in happiness as he purrs reassurances and love into her ear, unmindful of the trio who remain in the backseat, shell-shocked.

"B-Buffy," Giles starts to say, clearly about to start on a tirade regarding her new features and her obviously new appetite, before yelping as Anya pinches him and shakes her head slowly. When Giles looks at her questioningly, she nods toward Buffy and Spike, who are cooing at each other and nuzzling each other's necks, their eyes closed in bliss and sheer relief.

Giles sighs to himself and shuts up. Whatever she's become, he just can't bring himself to put her on the defensive when she's so clearly happy.

Whether she's a vampire or not.

---

They've made world-wide news now that Sunnydale and its Hellmouth have fallen. Some people are crediting it to earthquakes -- after all, what else is California known for besides Hollywood and shiny people? Others are saying its terrorists. Morons.

What else could possibly explain the disappearance of an entire town into a crater almost a third of the city of Los Angeles wide and God only knew how deep?

Angel's team in L.A. are understandably saddened by their boss's sacrifice, but proud -- even gratified -- at the same time. It turns out Angel had nearly made a decision to join the evil law firm in town -- the amulet he'd worn in the Hellmouth had been a sign of good faith that he would think about it. Some dead ex-lawyer girlfriend of Wesley's (Buffy isn't even going to try going into the logistics of that one) had tried to talk Angel into bringing the entire crew along, but they'd been uncomfortable in possibly answering to a group of evil attorneys that had made their lives a living hell for so long, and so they hadn't responded between the time they'd been offered the switch and Angel's death in the Hellmouth.

At least they aren't going to be evil.

Buffy decides that she likes Lorne, the Empath demon -- in her opinion, he's the best out of the group. He's funny, and he's kind, and despite the horrifically bright colors, he's got a killer fashion sense. He calls her cute pet names, and he's so flamboyant it's hilarious, and he makes Spike all flustered and blushy, which Buffy has never seen anyone do before. She has to keep Spike from turning tail and leaving L.A. right then and there because she wants Lorne to mess with him some more.

The L.A. crew want to keep fighting, instead of going their separate ways, and Buffy completely understands. They're all fairly normal, but they've seen the dark side of the streets of Los Angeles and they can't just ignore it all now. But they can't do it all on their own either, and so they nominate Wes to ask the Sunnydale contingent to stay and help.
Because they hadn't just gotten done with fighting for their very lives.

Ah, well. They aren't planning on doing anything for a while anyway.

---

"Love you."

It's a whispering gasp, one barely heard against the heavy slap of bodies connecting, of aroused snarls escaping throats, and lips and fangs meeting in a frantic need to be closer. Buffy's voice is almost swallowed up by Spike's reciprocating roar of pleasure, and suddenly her voice is hitting concert decibels.

The frenetic rocking of her hips begins to slow and he tilts his head back against the pillows, arching his strong, pale neck in preparation for her bite. His own hips force the momentum between them to quicken and grow again, and Buffy whimpers as her fangs sharpen and descend. Pushing her hair out of the way, she bends her head down and parts her lips, grasping the skin of his throat and sinking her teeth in deeply. Spike strikes at the same moment, one hand cradling her head and the other wrapped around her waist and resting on the small of her back.

Each time they renew their claim is mind-blowing, mystical, ethereal in its intensity, and a homecoming to the both of them. An explosion of colors appears behind her eyes, swirling and glistening and twisting and turning like the spectral brilliance inside of a kaleidoscope, and before she can even recover from her first orgasm, her second overtakes her. She can do nothing but cling to Spike's neck, writhing helplessly as he rolls the both of them over and plunges himself inside of her until he reaches completion himself. His teeth leave her neck and he snarls "Mine!" as his eyes roll up, and he shudders into her. His hands clutch her hips so hard, she can feel the bruises forming, and the pain makes her swoon happily.

She releases his neck and nuzzles his cheek. "Yours," she coos happily, kissing and nipping along his throat and jaw. "And you're mine, too, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, sweetheart," he answers, his lips sweeping across her forehead and his arms pulling her closer. "Always."

It's been a week since Sunnydale, and in that time, the backlash from Buffy's big reveal is still resonating. Now that she's been found out, the group of people that risked their lives in the Hellmouth are beginning to understand why the first Slayer has seemed so different during these last few months. Together, Buffy and Spike are faster, and their strength has grown exponentially. Patrols are barely an effort anymore, though they often return looking as though they've been fighting hellhounds -- and losing. Nobody wants to question what they've really been doing, because everyone already knows. Bite marks and happy faces don't lie.

Xander apparently can't stand to be in the same room with them anymore -- it's no skin off her back, honestly. He's fallen so far down the friend meter it's a wonder that he's even agreed to stay in Los Angeles with the rest of them. Because he was her friend for so long, though, she can't help but be slightly hurt that he would be so bigoted and hateful toward vampires that he would dismiss her so quickly now that he knows what she is.

Guess that friendship isn't as real as she thought it was.

Faith has apparently appointed herself as Buffy and Spike's bodyguard, given that the principal still looks at Spike with a gaze that more than implies that he's planning something. Never mind that the former Slayer and the Master Vampire together have more strength between them than Hercules, the younger Slayer has taken it upon herself to make sure that no one, not even the mini Slayers who look at them with distrust, tries to act the unwanted hero and attack them when they aren't looking.

Again, not that it would make a difference. But they appreciate it nonetheless.

It serves the added purpose of amusing Dawn, which Buffy loves. Her baby sister has decided that for better or worse, she's glad to be back in Los Angeles, and since Sunnydale is gone and has taken all of her legal (however cosmically whammied) documents with it, she's going to nag Giles until he uses Council resources to make new ones for everyone, including Buffy and Spike. From there, she plans to enroll in another high school, citing the giant sinkhole where her old town used to be as reason enough for her lack of notice.

Buffy's pride in Dawn notches up another hundred degrees when her sister informs her that she only plans to stay at the high school until the end of this school year, when she's a junior. The teenager has plans to graduate as early as possible, in order to attend UCLA the following fall. She wants Buffy and Spike to join her at the college campus for the Parents' Day and overnighter.

The last part nearly brings tears to their eyes.

Andrew has become less of a nuisance now -- especially since it's become clear that now, Buffy really can follow through on her threats to rip his tongue out and feed it to him if he bothers her or her mate in the slightest.

Willow has taken more of an interest, though, and in the days since Anya's glamour fell, Willow has been alternately awed and humbled. The fact that someone she has had so little regard for in the past could create something so powerful and yet so simple that it would fool her for so long seems to be a reality check for the red-head. Needless to say, Willow has swallowed her pride and, following Giles' encouragement, has looked to Anya for guidance -- something that pleases the vengeance demon greatly.

After deducing what Willow knows of the many white arts, Anya begins teaching the young Wicca something that Tara, when she lived, had been keen on -- the ability to see and read auras.

It's through this ability, that when Willow finally garners the courage to look at Buffy and Spike without sadness and remorse, she is reduced to tears at the sight of them together. The golden white aura of the claim surrounds them and glistens so beautifully that Willow suddenly becomes their strongest champion. The day after she gazes at them, Xander makes a snide remark about Buffy's preference for the undead leading to her preference of blood, and Willow proves to everyone exactly whose side she's on when she nearly lunges after her oldest friend, screaming at him to mind his business and to grow up.

Xander shuts up most days now when he's in the same room with them.

It's Giles' reaction that has Buffy the most concerned, however. Watcher or not, he has always been a father to her, and the thought that he might be disgusted by her now hurts so deeply that she'd swear she can feel her heart break.

Luckily for her -- she doesn't have to worry about Giles' disapproval in the slightest.

The sight of her fangs and lightly ridged forehead pains and worries him, but he's not disgusted with her, he says when she finally gains the nerve to approach him about her fears. He can't be any more proud of her than he already is, whether she's a Slayer, or a Slayer-turned-vampire, and given that she more or less acts the same as she always has, Giles has no concerns about her current status. He would never have wished this on her, he adds, sounding and looking a little sad as he watches her and her mate together, but having her vamped and souled is better than losing her again.

The fact that Giles mentions a soul surprises Buffy, but not by much. She knows that something about her is off -- she has less inhibitions, certainly, and she's not as uptight as when she was human. She's even drained a human body -- it was her first meal when Spike turned her under the First's influence, but she has no bloodlust. She had done it out of necessity. She's relegated herself to bags of human blood from the many hospitals in Los Angeles since that first taste in Sunnydale, but it hasn't occurred to her until now that her ease of transition has been due to her soul.

She feels kinda dumb now for not figuring it out. It seems so obvious.

So everything is not quite perfect, but it's as ideal as it can be. Xander is no longer in her inner circle, Willow's months of self-obsession are gone (and so is Kennedy for that matter), Giles is still by her side, Anya and Dawn are her biggest supporters and dearest friends, and Spike is still her mate, her lover, and her world. The Los Angeles crew are looking to her to lead them, and the younger Slayers are... well, they're still pains in the ass, but that can't be helped. Still, it feels like everything is finally shaping up right.

It feels good.



End Part Five