Chapter 21

Buffy headed to the Magic Box, mission firmly declared. Find a way to take this bitch out. She has done her last damage to her friends and family.

She just didn’t know how.

Irritated, she threw open the door of the store, and stalked inside, glorious in her anger. The bell dinged anxiously above her head, signaling her arrival to those inside. Customers moved, intimidated by the look on her face, and even her friends stared at her in shock.

“What does she want? What does the Key open?”

Giles adjusted his glasses, and looked at his charge. “As far as we can ascertain, the Key must open a portal of some kind.”

“What? Where does it open it, and when? Giles, we’re running out of time. Our allies are getting their asses kicked, and so am I. We can’t keep this up much longer. We need answers, and we needed them yesterday. So make with the books. Look up spells. Do whatever you do with research, but get me something to go on.” She dropped her voice to a whisper, and moved in toward him. “Spike—he’s hurt pretty bad. Inside, I think. I let him drink….”

“Buffy! You what?”

She scowled at him. “Giles, I had to. He was dying…okay, dying deader…and we need him. I need him. I don’t know if it’s enough to bring him out of it. He needs more blood. Human blood.”

“I’ll get in touch with my contacts at the blood bank. See if they have any nearly expired products. Anything else?”

“Help me, Giles. That’s all I need right now. Anything else, it has to wait.”

She pivoted smartly, and left the shop.

~*~

Buffy went back to the crypt to check on Spike. He was still in the same position she had left him. Bruises and cuts marred his face, but the swelling of the soft planes was completely gone. His mouth was slack with sleep, and she could see the split lip, the mess inside his mouth. She was amazed at the amount of abuse Spike had taken and lived. He’d also protected Dawn.

Buffy slipped the sheet down his chest to look at the hole Glory left in his stomach. The skin was depressed, almost like the dimple in his chin, slight unless viewed from a particular angle. She ran her hands along his side, checking his ribs, and felt no grinding there beneath the skin. He grabbed her wrist and held her still.

“What’re you doing there, pet?”

“Checking your ribs. They seem pretty well healed.”

“I haven’t checked, myself.” He struggled to sit up, and tried to draw a deep breath. “Seems better.”

“Your face isn’t mushy anymore, either. The swelling’s gone.”

“Thanks to you, and some donated blood gone bad. Otherwise, I’d still be out.”

She blushed, and looked down at her hands. “You said that Slayer blood had a kick. Just thought I would get you off to a good start.”

He covered her hands with his. “I appreciate it, Buffy. I have never wished so hard to see you before.”

“You knew that I would come for you. I will always come for you, Spike.” She stopped, realizing the double entendre, the said, “Maybe rephrase that--I’ll rescue you. How about that?”

“Always thought that I was supposed to rescue you, pet.” He smiled down at her, trying to make light to diffuse her embarrassment.

She brushed loose curls back from his forehead, and smiled at him. “How about we watch each other’s backs, Spike? I’ll keep rescuing you, and you rescue me when I need it, and everything will be balanced in the universe. Willow was always going on about karma—maybe it’s karma that brought you and I together. This whole bond-claim-marriage thingie—maybe that’s to make sure that we stay together, to help each other fight.”

“Still evil, pet.”

“Yeah, I know. Always the Big Bad.” She smiled, and ran her thumb over his lip. “I just don’t think that the Big Bad is as big or as bad as he thought. Not next to a god. Especially one that looks like Glory.”

“If you’re talking bad-looking. She has a lopsided arse. And a bad perm.”

She grinned at him. “Uh-huh. But she can kick both our asses and not break a sweat. We need to strategize. Bad. The whole Scooby gang. You know how they are to deal with.” She stopped herself, hearing the intimate tone in her voice. This was so not the time. “But want to or not, we have to put our heads together on this. I feel like the monsters are getting bigger and badder, and I can’t take them on alone.” She looked at the new, pinker skin on his wrists, and grimaced. “She keeps hurting us, weakening us, we won’t have to fight, because we’ll all be done for. Whatever the Key opens, she’ll open it, and it will burn us all.”

“We’ll find a weak spot, pet. I’ll tell the Watcher what I know about her setup and her minions, and we’ll see if there’s a way. You know we will.”

She looked at him with sad eyes. “I know. Everyone is doing all they can, researching day and night. But when it comes down to it, honey, all of it’s going to be on me.”




Chapter 22

She hated this. She hated dropping out of school, but reality was reality, and someone had to be there for Dawn. Not to mention the numerous days she had missed. She hated having her professors look at her with that sad smile, and their words of sympathy only tore her grief open again and again. This world leaves scars on you, she thought, and went to see her English Prose 101 teacher last, her favorite class. The words, their rhythm, seemed to take her away from the every day stress and bring her a calm that she had thought impossible to find. She knew that some of it was Spike’s, or actually William’s influence, but it was welcome if it kept her sane and safe to be around others.

She wondered if that was how he had kept his humanity for all these many years—his love of the written word. She doubted he knew how deeply she had seen into his heart those many times, those many bites. She knew his passions, his wants, his needs—she saw his self. Even without a soul, there was no longer malice and evil in his every intention. He protected her mother, Dawn, herself. He fought alongside her, against demons and gods and vampires. He loved her. Then and now. Forever, if he unlived that long.

She knew that the insight went both ways, and that terrified her. She wouldn’t put a name to what she felt, every time he touched her, kissed her…she would not. She was not willing to admit that this peaceful, secure feeling stole over her whenever Spike was by her side was anything like love. She would never admit craving his mouth. Never, ever tell that she loved looking at his body in any lighting. Absolutely reveal nothing about the way he made her come, how it drained her, yet energized her too. And we will not discuss the way his cock felt inside her, how it filled her and stretched her inside, how close pleasure was to pain, and pain to pleasure, and how much she wanted to feel him inside her now….

She ran all the way from the campus to his crypt. She slammed the door open, then closed behind her. “Spike!” she yelled into the silence.

“Buffy!” She heard his voice echo below her, and she ran to the hole in the floor, looking down into it. He stood at the foot of the ladder, worry on his brow, and she motioned him back. She dropped down into the cavern, and straightened, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.

She thought at first that he would back away from her, and gripped him tighter. His hands went to her hips to keep their balance when she wrapped her leg around his, pressing herself against his full length. She turned, and threw her back against the wall, arching into him, her hands holding his head in place as she purred against his lips. He grabbed her thighs, lifted her up and leaned her against the wall, and ground himself against her, instantly hard.

“Spike…you’re okay…to do this…?”

“Buffy, love, I would dust myself if I ever passed up a chance to shag you.” He kissed the pulse point behind her ear, and whispered, “I would die for you.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she closed them, holding them back. “I only have about an hour and a half. How much damage can we do in that amount of time?”

“Plenty.” He ground himself against her again, making her gasp. His mouth nibbled at her neck, his scar there. Her quim spasmed at the pressure and the sensations shooting through her, and she pulled at his shirt, hungry for the touch of his skin. Her hands were hot on him, everywhere she touched, and he cooled her. She locked her legs around his hips to free his hands, and he put them to good use, grabbing her ass with one hand and tweaking her erect nipple through her thin shirt with the other.

She moaned against his mouth, and motioned toward the bed. He carried her, still wrapped around him, over to the bed where he crawled onto the mattress, laying her spread beneath him. Their four hands free now, they tugged at each other’s clothing, wanting to lay bare all pretenses, lay aside all masks for the other. She let the light into her eyes as she watched him stand above her and undress, pulling his shirt over his head, pushing his jeans over his lean hips, letting his cock spring free, hard and cool and waiting for her touch. She sat up and cupped his length in her palm, then wrapped both hands around it, licking, then kissing the velvety head.

She pulled her shirt off, then her boots, then yanked her slacks off, suddenly impatient. She pulled her panties off, flipping them at Spike, surprising herself with her own daring. She watched him lift them to his nose and inhale, smiling blissfully. She grabbed his free hand, and jerked him off balance, and he fell to the bed on his back. She threw her leg over him, then righted herself to press her dripping wet pussy against the underside of his cock, trapped between them. So cool…she glided her hips back and forth, coating the length of him with her juices, and watched his eyes roll back in his head.

He grabbed her by the hips, stilling her. “Buffy…can’t take much. Been a while….”

“For both of us, baby. Just hang on.” She raised herself, gripped him in her hand to aim him, then thrust herself onto him, his cock stretching her in a combination of pleasure and pain and fullness, the head striking her cervix and making her gasp aloud. She was still for a moment, enjoying the sensation, then started to move her hips in small circles, her heat swirling around the coolness of him, quenching her fire inside yet stoking it higher at the same time.

His hands caressed her skin, cupped her breasts, fingertips grazing her nipples as she moved against him. She was dancing above him to the music of her body, and he was awed at the peaceful look on her face as she moved. She threw her head back, her hair brushing his thighs as she drove herself onto him over and over, her speed increasing as her pulse raced, pounding through them both. Her muscles pulsed around him with every beat of her racing heart, and he knew that neither one of them could last long at this pace, and he wanted her beneath him when she finally let herself go.

He pulled her close and rolled them, switching their positions. Leaning over her on his elbows, he looked into her impassioned eyes and saw her heart, her revelations about him and herself. He was awed that she finally let him see her, and this was the greatest gift she could give him at this moment. “Oh, my lovely girl. I love you.”

She still couldn’t answer. She simply smiled at him. He understood. Finally.

He kissed her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, and she welcomed it gladly. He moved inside her slowly, matching the speed of his tongue, then kissed down her throat to her neck, and the scar in the bend there. She pumped herself against him, her heels gripping his hips as she tried to draw him deeper inside her the closer he got to their mating scar. He gripped it lightly with blunt teeth, nipping lightly on every thrust into her quim. Her inner Slayer muscles were going wild, gripping him like a fist at times, and he could tell she was nearing her peak as her skin flushed, breath coming in short gasps.

“Baby, please, God, please I need to come please don’t stop bite me Spike love baby please….” Her words ran together, a single continuous plea, and he slipped into game face and buried his fangs in her neck to send her flying over the edge.

She threw her head back in the rigor of a powerful orgasm, each draw of her blood into his mouth drawing a taut thread between her neck and her clit, so tight…then it snapped and she couldn’t still her trembling as she writhed against him, sobbing his name.

“So tight, Slayer…so hot…been waiting for you, Buffy…waiting for you to come for me, just like you said you would. Love fucking you, Buffy. Feels so bleeding good, so bleeding right. Feels like home. Need you, love. Always need you.”

He started to lick her skin to seal his marks, and she pressed his head against her, his neck within her reach. She gripped her mark between blunt teeth, and sent a silent apology that she couldn’t be as delicate with him as he always was with her. She tore the flesh with her incisors as best she could, his blood gushing into her mouth and down her throat in a delicious torrent that opened their hearts to one another, their essences merging and mingling. He sipped at the small trickle that still ran from one puncture wound, and if his heart weren’t already dead, it would have stopped at the possessive tone in her voice.

“Mine.”


Chapter 23

Spike pulled away from her, shock filling his eyes.

“Oh, Buffy, do you know what you’ve done, pet?”

“Of course I do. I claimed you back.” She frowned. “You…didn’t want that?”

He pulled her close, his need completely forgotten. “Of course I did. I never thought….”

“Didn’t think that I would ever do it, did you. You thought that I would just let you hang….”

“No, love. Just didn’t think you wanted any part of my weird vampire shit.” He pulled away from her, rolling to his back and covering his eyes. “Sorry, love, just surprised is all.”

She sat up, gathering her clothes as she spoke. “You didn’t see? I thought I let my guards down, and you would see…I guess not, I’ve never given you any reason to think…but then again, there was nothing that said I wouldn’t…but that doesn’t matter, this was a big mistake…I’m—“

She stopped talking when he grabbed her and kissed her. The clothes fell out of her hands onto the ground, and she fisted his hair, her kiss punishing. “Never underestimate me, Spike. I’m always full of surprises.”

“I’m finding that out, pet. You better get dressed. Almost time for your appointment.”

“But you….”

“Time for that later. Now, you have to go attend to Dawn.”

Reminded of her responsibilities, she shrugged into her clothes. “I don’t want to go. It’s never good when they call you into the office, I know from experience.”

“Still, you need to find out why they called you. I need to rest some more. You wear me out, Buffy.”

“Not enough, it seems.” She nodded at his erection. “I feel guilty.”

“No, love, don’t. Stamina, remember? I can handle it. Bloody hell, Buffy, I’ve had to before.”

“It seems like such a waste to leave you like that.”

“More where that came from, love. Just come see me again soon in one of those moods. I like it when you’re horny Buffy.”

“Spike, you’re a pig,” she said, her voice reflecting her smile.

~*~

Strange are the curves that life throws, and a few hours made so much difference in so many lives.

The phone rang, and Buffy answered automatically, still seething over Dawn’s pouting and near tantrum. “Buffy? Xander. It’s Tara—Glory thinks she’s the Key. Can you come? Willow’s gone to the fair, we’re going to the apartment to check.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Let me take Dawn to Spike, I don’t want to leave her here alone. Be there soon.” She cradled the receiver, then turned to the sullen 14-year-old. “Get your stuff. You’re going to Spike’s.”

“I don’t want to go to Spike’s.”

“Glory is on the loose, Tara’s hurt, and I don’t have time for this. Get your stuff.” She shoved Dawn’s purse into her arms, ignoring her complaints, and pulled her out the door. She took her sister by the hand and ran with her, all the way to Restfield, to Spike’s crypt.

“Spike! Glory’s hurt Tara. I need you to watch Dawn, it’s not sunset yet.”

“Go, pet. I’ve got the Bit. We’ll go to the caves, through the sewers.”

He watched her leave, then turned to the pouting teenager. “Come on. The minions know that I live here. It’s not safe. Let’s go, Niblet.”

“I don’t know why I couldn’t have stayed home, instead of being dragged through the sewers. I can tie my shoes and use the phone, if I needed any help.”

“Bit, we are trying to keep you safe, and out of Glory’s sight. Now, move it. Into the sewers.”

He motioned for her to descend the ladder, then followed her down. Wide eyes took in the tousled sheets, the candles, and the pair of delicate panties that lay on the floor at the foot of the bed.

She turned, and looked at Spike, who could swear that he was blushing, his cheeks felt so warm. “Spike?”

“Uh, yes, Niblet?”

“Are those—Buffy’s?”

“Uh—do I have to answer that?”

“You don’t now.” She smiled weakly. “I don’t know whether to be happy for her or scared for her. Especially now. After all that happened today….” She headed down the tunnel, staring at her feet, and Spike followed, desperate to keep her safe and hope she understood about him and Buffy.

~*~

Buffy headed back to the caves, feeling her way along the bond to Spike and her sister. He met her at the mouth, and she walked faster until she was running into his arms. “Oh, Spike, it’s terrible—her mind is gone. Glory brain sucked her, and Tara’s gone.” She gripped his arms, warring with her grief and anger. “I have so got to end this, Spike. Promise me—“

“Anything, pet.”

“Promise me you’ll finish this if I can’t. If I don’t. Don’t let that bitch do whatever it is she wants to do. Finish her.”

“I will, pet. Poor Glinda. ‘ll bet Willow is sack o’ hammers.”

Buffy sat down next to Dawn, and put her arm around her. “She was pretty upset, and wanted to go after Glory, but I talked her out of it.”

“You talked her out of it? A pissed off witch with a hardon for revenge? Right. You couldn’t talk me out of it. I’d do it—for love—for the right one, the only one.”

She heard his hidden message, then realized what he was saying. “I’ve got to—“

“—get to her, this way.” He pulled her through a shortcut closer to Glory’s apartment, then grabbed her for a quick kiss. Releasing her, he said, “Fly, Buffy! Hurry!”

~*~

Buffy returned about an hour later. She walked like she was sore, left arm limp at her side, but she was upright after a confrontation, and that counted for something.

Spike met her at the mouth of the cave again, his finger to his mouth. “The Bit’s asleep. Gives us a minute to talk. Willow?”

“You were right. She was there, and about to get crucified against the wall. I got her out. She did hurt Glory. Well, not hurt, exactly. Slowed her down.” She leaned against the wall, head down.

“That’s a plus. At least one of us has some effect on her.” She looked at him sideways. “She bloody well kicked my arse. She kicked yours. At least Red did something. Like that teleportation thing. That means that magick affects her.”

“A clue. Well, well, Glory. Maybe might isn’t always right.”


Chapter 24

Buffy closed the distance between her and Spike, and wrapped her arms around him, leaning her head on his shoulder. Her whole body expanded then shrunk in his arms as she took a deep breath and sighed. “There’s just never enough time for everything, is there, Spike?”

“I dunno, love. Vampire. All kinds of time on my hands.”

She looked up at him. “Do you ever get bored?”

He shrugged. “No, not really. There’s telly. Manchester United, they’re fun to watch. Books, music—really, there is a lot more to do since the Industrial Revolution than you know, pet. Think about reading by candlelight…no wonder everyone wore glasses.”

“Now you sound like schoolboy Spike. Stop that. I don’t want to live forever. I would like to have a nice long life, though. I wonder, has a Slayer ever retired?”

“Don’t know, pet. Only know of the one way Slayers are Chosen. That involves the d word.”

I know, Spike. I think about it all the time. Maybe you’re right. May be I do have a death wish, and just don’t know about it. Maybe I want to die, so I don’t have to be the Slayer anymore. She ran it through her head first, then said, “Well, there’s always a first time. After all, there was never two Slayers before, then I died that first time….”

Spike grimaced above her, out of her sight line. He didn’t want to think of what would happen if one of them died, especially after being claimed.

Buffy would survive, if he were dusted. She may grieve, but she was too strong to succumb to the wasting, both physical and mental, that a claimed vampire that lost his mate would. A vampire that lost his mate usually dusted or turned into a skeleton. Albeit, the skeleton could survive, even after a long period dormant, but gallons of human blood would be needed to revive it. If she died, he didn’t want to unlive anymore.

Choking on her death and the taste of his own ashes, he bent his head and kissed her forehead, squeezing her gently. “I love you Buffy. Just in case I forgot to tell you today.”

“You didn’t forget,” she said quietly. He could hear the words clamoring to get out, but she still didn’t say it. Instead, she relied on what was becoming a habit. She turned her face up to his, and caught his mouth with hers, her fingers combing through his hair.

He pulled her against his body, needing her heat to warm his suddenly frigid heart. He tried to hide his thoughts as she probed his mouth with her tongue, but she glimpsed them. Instead of pulling away like he expected, she redoubled her effort, until she finally had to break their kiss long enough to breath.

“Spike—I need you. Now. Right here.”

“Buffy, what about Dawn? What—?”

“I’ll be quiet. Promise. Just worry about you.” She dropped to her knees, and worked his belt open, then pulled at the fly of his jeans. His cock bobbed in her face, droplets of moisture on the tip, and she grasped it gently, running her tongue along the slit to gather it up. He saw her blissful expression, to his surprise, before she licked her lips, then swallowed him whole.

She barely moved her head, swallowing hard between breaths to simulate the sensation of being buried inside her. He threw his head back, unable to breathe, the heat of her mouth inflaming him from the inside out. He started to groan, then remembered the need for quiet. The only sound was the wet, sucking noises Buffy was making with her mouth, the susurrus of skin against skin, clothes moving with their occupants. He ran his fingers through her hair, silk against his fingertips, then she started to move her head and he found it a perfect place to hold on to, ground himself against the shocks coursing through him and centering on the head of his cock.

Buffy smiled at his face, the look of rapture painted there. She put it there, and was proud of it. She reached out and caressed his balls, drawn tight against him, and tugged on the loose skin. He grabbed her head harder, whispering in the dark indistinct phrases she would occasionally snatch out of the silence. More. Harder. Baby. Love me. Feeling adventurous, she did something that Cosmo said was sure to drive him wild. She slid her finger into her mouth on one of her downstrokes, pulled it out, and inserted it into his ass.

He bucked against her like she had a hot poker in her hand. Didn’t phase her. She timed the thrusts of her had with the downstrokes, sucking her cheeks in on the upstrokes, and captured his balls in her other hand and rolled them gently in her palm. She decided to go for broke, and slipped another digit in with the first, and his fingers became claws in her head as he drove his cock to the back of her throat and exploded into her mouth, cool Spike-flavored jism tickling her tastebuds and her nose.

She licked his cock clean, and sat back on her heels. “Are you okay?” she asked when she saw him leaned over and shaking, gasping for breath.

“Are you pullin’ one over on me? Am I okay?” He reached for her, and pulled her to her feet. "You little minx. That was fantastic. Bleedin’ fantastic.”

He kissed her, and tasted himself on her lips. “As for you….”

She put her finger over his lips, and shook her head. “As for me, I need to get Dawn home. There’s just one more thing.”

She cupped his head with both hands, and kissed him, gently, then deep and rough, her mouth open and receiving as he explored it with his tongue. She kissed down the side of his neck, and found her scar. He searched, and found his instinctively, waiting for her to continue.

She nipped at it with the tip of her incisor, and it split open again under the pressure, not having had time to heal over. She pulled on his blood, pulled it into her mouth as he slipped into game face and nicked her soft skin. He sipped a delicate mouthful of her, rolling it around on his tongue as he heard her whisper in the silence of the moment.

“Mine.”

“Yours forever, Buffy. Mine?”

She wondered why he made it a question—didn’t he already have the answer? “Yours, Spike.”


Chapter 25

They were just sitting there, eating together, just like a normal day—if your normal day included a newly-insane lesbian girlfriend you had to spoonfeed and eggplant sandwiches—when the wall was ripped away and a familiar face looked around the corner.

“I know that I told you we weren’t done yet, Slayer. Now, where the hell is my key?”

Buffy gasped, her mind whirling with the possibilities. She could take Dawn and run. She could fight. She could just sit there, play innocent, and hope nobody else got hurt. She had nearly settled for the last option when Tara innocently looked at Dawn and started rattling on and on about the beautiful glowy green light, and Buffy knew that Glory knew, just by the look on her face.

“So there’s my key.” Glory made to step into the room, and Willow threw her hand up, stopping her with hastily spoken Latin. Glory snarled at the witch and her companion, but it didn’t stop her flight into the tree trunk, or cushion her slide to the ground.

Buffy ran, Dawn’s hand in hers. Away. Away from the evil hellgod bitch, away from everything and everyone. Get to Spike. Spike will help us. Spike can hide us again. When Dawn’s feet faltered, she pause long enough to pick her sister up, her long legs dangling and jumping wildly as Buffy kept running, away, away….

Not fast enough, Buffy thought panting, as Glory appeared in front of them. She sat Dawn down, and tried to catch her breath. Too many sundaes for that girl. She stared at the dangerous being in front of them, and waited. It was the only thing left to do.

“I hate it when other people touch my things. Give me my Key, Slayer.”

The whiny voice grated on Buffy’s nerves, and she tightened her lips. “Glory, I have just one thing to say to you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Truck.” The eighteen-wheeler came from out of nowhere, and the hellgod disappeared, plastered to the front of the grille.

Buffy didn’t wait to see if it had any effect. She grabbed Dawn’s hand and ran.

They made it to Restfield in record time for the Slayer dragging an unwilling passenger. They slammed into Spike’s crypt, breathless, and Buffy drew a deep breath to yell at him when his head appeared from the hole in the floor. He was dressed down to his duster, and he had a pair of black goggles around his neck.

“Felt it, pet. You really want to do that? No last stand? No hero?”

“Dawn’s life is on the line. We can’t. We can’t take the chance. We have nothing against her except me, you, and some iffy spells that Willow was working on. We have to.”

“I’ll get transpo. You get the others together.”

“We’ll be at the back of the Magic Box. Meet us there.”

Dawn watched her sister and the unspoken by-play between her and Spike. Buffy kept telling them that she was mad at him, but there was something—heat in their eyes as they looked at one another. Their body language—Spike was in his usual stance, hips jutting forward and shoulders slung back—what Dawn thought of was Big Bad. But the subtle differences…the soft smile on his mouth, his eyes barely crinkly. Maybe it was the position of his hands, lower than she remembered from before, the webs of his thumb outlining his…. Dawn had to stop thinking. Eww—she’d almost thought of Spike’s…spike.

She looked at Buffy, and rolled her eyes. Could she telegraph it more? She was leaning forward, her arms loose at her sides, her mouth hanging open…her eyes centered on Spike’s hands…Dawn hit her sister on the arm, and Buffy looked at her, irritated.

“Just go kiss him already. You’re about to drool, and Spike is going to do permanent damage to his spine if he pushes his hips any more forward. Go on!” She gave Buffy a shove, sending her flying and into Spike’s now open arms.

She collided with him, and stared into his eyes for a split second before their mouths crashed together in a too-brief kiss. She clung to him, terrified at what was to come, and he smiled down at her.

“Don’t worry, pet. We’ll get through this.”

“I know. We’ll meet you at the Magic Box.”

“Stay in the workroom. It’s protected. Keep our link open, you’ll know when I’m coming.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

She and dawn raced across town to Xander’s apartment, where she outlined her plan for her friends and Watcher.

“Run? You want us to run?”

“Finally, a good plan,” Anya said sarcastically. “It’s about time.”

“I don’t think it’s that feasible, Buffy. Surely Glory….”

“Surely Glory will kill us all if we stay here. She’ll kill us off, one by one, until it’s only her and Dawn and the end of the world. Is that what you want, Giles?”

“No, I see—I just don’t think that running is our best option. I think we need to consider other tactics—“

“No. We’re leaving town. As soon as possible. Don’t call anyone. Don’t tell anyone. Gather what we need, weapons, supplies, food, and meet me in back of the Magic Shop.” She grabbed Dawn by the hand, and went to the door of the apartment. “Remember, Glory knows who all of us are—what we look like. If you’re thinking of staying behind, you may be signing your death certificate.”

She left the silent apartment, hurt by their doubt. She didn’t see any other out, any way to avoid getting them all killed. She only knew that she couldn’t let Dawn get hurt. Her friends and her Watcher were secondary at this point.

She wanted to wait patiently, but found her feet moving toward a warehouse near Willy’s. Dragging Dawn behind her still, she entered the warehouse and saw a group of vamps trailing in and out of an ancient Winnebago. She felt for her stake in her back pocket, ready to draw it, when she heard Spike inside the motor home, yelling at the vamps.

“Bloody hell, fellas, I have to get this bint on the road. Let’s get the bleeding windows covered now.”

She approached the motor home with Dawn still in tow. “Spike—“

“Slayer! This is bleeding fantastic! Now I don’t have to hunt for you. Get in. We need to get out of here.”

He turned to the vamps, and said, “Promised you she wouldn’t stake you today. Thanks for your help, blokes. ‘Preciate it.”

Buffy turned to face them, a strange feeling inside her. “Yeah, thanks. But get out of Sunnydale. Bad stuff about to happen. Apocalyptic. And if you’re here when I come back, I will have to—uh—do my job. See you, fellas.”

She led Dawn into the Winnebago, and watched Spike distribute…little pieces of paper? She shook her head, and climbed on in, sitting in the passenger seat. She noticed a door in the back of the trailer, and motioned toward it. “Go lay down, Dawnie. I know I’ve dragged you all over town today. Go rest.”

She waited until Spike was settled into the driver’s seat. She couldn’t see, but she could feel the vamps scattering as demons opened the larger doors of the warehouse for them to drive out of. Spike shot her a grin, and turned on the tape deck. The Ramones blasted them in the face as the Winnebago took to the streets.

She reached for him, and he took her hand, gripping it tightly. “Love you, Buffy. Love you and the Bit. Thought maybe you needed to hear it right now.”

“Yeah, I kinda did. Thanks for getting us the ride, honey. Let’s go get the Scoobies and get outta Dodge.”



Chapter 26

Her friends climbed into the Winnebago. Xander held back when he saw Spike in the drivers’ seat, dark goggles covering his sensitive eyes.

“What’s he doing here?”

“He’s here because I want him here. Get over it, Xander. It’s getting really, really old.” Buffy got up from the table, and went to the small room at the back, tired of the bickering and infighting, tired of having to defend her every decision, even down to who was along for the ride. She was just tired; maybe she just needed to lie down.

Spike turned to look over his shoulder at Giles. “Watcher. Come here for a minute.”

Giles moved up to sit in the passenger seat, and Spike lowered his voice. “Gotta get the morale up, Watcher-man. Buffy’s about to crack, and all the fighting is just getting her down.”

“I’ll do what I can. You go talk to her, try to get her settled. This may not be the best plan, but I believe I read in the Book of Tarnis that the hellgod was on a time frame. This may just buy us enough time to save Dawn without Buffy having to do battle with Glory.”

Spike stole a look at the Scoobies sitting at the table behind him, and whispered, “I don’t think they’re sure I can drive anyway.” He slowed the Winnebago and pulled to the side of the road. “You take over.”

Giles slipped into the seat, taking the wheel. “Do what you can with Buffy. I’ll do what I can with the rest of them.”

Spike sidled to the back of the motor home and tapped on the door. He could feel her inside, sensed her fear and hopelessness, and slid the door open before she could reply to his knock. “Slayer. Just sitting here brooding? I’ll have to call you Angel if you keep it up.”

“I’m not brooding!” She looked at him hungrily, then shrugged and looked away. “Okay, so I’m brooding. Not much left to do, is there? Brood and run. That’s all that’s left.”

“If it helps, Watcher said that this Glory bint is working on a time frame. So getting outta town may have been the best idea yet.” He sat next to her on the bed, and pulled her into his arms. “Come on, pet. You’ve gotta get out of that funk. We need you.”

“I don’t—don’t gotta do anything, Spike. I’m the Slayer. And right now, with no vampires to slay, I don’t have anything pressing to do.”

“Hey, vampire here.”

“Not going to slay you. More than likely you’ll slay me.”

He looked at her, opening their link wide, and saw the hopelessness and powerlessness she was burying inside her. She didn’t think they could make it out of this alive. That stunned him. She was the Slayer. She could always…he stopped himself, realizing that he was projecting wishes that couldn’t come true. He thought back to their beginning, that night at the Bronze, when he told her he waited for the one good day. She still thought he was waiting for it. She had no idea about him. About anything.

“Buffy, look at me.” She wouldn’t turn her head, and he pulled gently on her chin to turn her face.

When she finally met his eyes, she was surprised to see the tears shimmering in them. “Buffy, you know I love you.”

“So you said.”

“I’m not letting anything hurt you, pet. Open up. Feel me. Know I’m not lying. You can do that now—tell when a vamp is lying or not.”

She didn’t know that, but she didn’t let him see it. She opened herself, only a crack in her defenses, and the flood of love and devotion that poured into her nearly overwhelmed her. She looked into his eyes, so impossibly blue, and saw his feelings written clearly, for anyone with eyes to see. Without realizing it, she reached up her hand to touch his face, memorizing the planes and valleys, soft and hard spots in its contours.

“You don’t want me to die. You want me to live—with you, forever.”

“Yes, love. More than anything. We have to get through this right now. We can do it together, all of us, if we have you leadin’ us.”

She nodded. Her resolve seemed to strengthen inside her, and she reached up to kiss him before she scooted off the bed. “I need to tell the Scoobs about us, you know. So they know—“

“Now’s not the time, pet. There are more pressing matters.”

“What could be more—“ she started, and an arrow flew through the back window of the motor home and stuck into the wall.

She moved the blinds, careful to keep the sun off Spike, and saw men on horseback, chasing the vehicle. She moved quickly, seeing them gaining, and went to the front of the Winnebago to grab Dawn and shove her under the tiny table. Dodging arrows and a lone axe, she ran haphazardly to the front of the motor home.

“Giles, get us away from them.”

“Giles, get us away. I’ve seen paper airplanes with more power behind them than this thing.” Giles muttered. Regardless, he put his foot to the floor, and the Winnebago leaped forward.

They all heard the same thing at once—footsteps on the roof of the moving vehicle. Buffy looked up, and started to speak, when a sword came slicing down into the interior, barely missing her head. Without conscious thought, Spike grabbed it, preventing it from being withdrawn, and gritted through the painful slicing sensations filling his palm, “Now would be a good time to do something, pet.”

Even as Xander threw her through the hatch in the roof, her mind was screaming about how wrong all this seemed. She quickly threw the knights off the roof, their chain mail no protection against impact as they fell, and tried to kick the grappling hooks off the railing where they had stuck. Not quickly enough, she thought, as she felt the Winnebago swerve under her feet, then tip over….