Author’s Notes: Thanks again to Kar for the beta job. This was a tougher chapter, longer and pretty much all mine. I also added an entire Joyce POV section to my first draft, in big part because of the positive responses to Joyce from chapter four, so big big thanks for all the feedback.

In our fifth installment, Spike and Buffy celebrate Halloween, Joyce ruminates, and Dawn gets busted.

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Chapter Five: All the Way

She practically floated into the crypt, sloe-eyed and smelling like a muffin of some sort. Dressed like Little Red Riding Hood. She gave him quite possibly the nicest smile he had ever received before flopping down on his couch and producing a bottle of Jameson from her basket.

Apparently, whatever he'd snagged at the Magic Box earlier had not been Burba Weed after all. It was something much better, and he was going to have to get more of it.

"Come on, just take it already," she said in a light tone. "I didn't even make you say trick or treat. Do I have to make some stupid ‘what big teeth you have’ crack first?"

"What's this for?" he finally managed. He brushed his fingers along hers when he took the bottle. She felt real enough.

"I am a teensy bit fuzzy on the details, but I kinda think I owe you a drink or twelve."

"Want to help me kill this bottle as well?" he asked, cracking it open and taking a swig. Much better quality than the rotgut he usually imbibed. Irish got a few things right.

She made a face. "No thanks. I'm loopy enough from the spa." She played the remote he'd abandoned to let her in, as she'd astonished him by knocking for once. "How do you get cable down here?"

"Spa?" he prompted.

"Yeah, Mom and me. Spent the day getting pampered and sugar-scrubbed and slathered with lotions, and having special moments over flavored coffee."

"So that's why you smell like some sort of tart." The couch pillow bounced harmlessly off his cheek. He caught it and tossed it back to her. "Did your special moments include any deep confessions?"

She made a face. "We were having a nice time, Spike. Why would I want to go and ruin it?"

He joined her on the couch and swiped the remote, took another swig. He wasn't looking to ruin their nice time either, so he decided to let it alone. "We're missing the Great Pumpkin, Slayer."

“I felt like I was really me again,” she confessed in a barely audible voice.

If his heart could beat, it might have stopped at that. As it was, he felt a sharp pain in his chest and an intense urge to gather her up in his arms. Luckily, before he could do anything so mightily stupid, she firmly changed the topic. "Is this how you usually spend Halloween? I mean, when there's not a helpless Slayer running around blathering about marrying a baron."

At times, it really struck him how well and truly wrong the whole thing was. Only a few years ago he'd spent this night dizzy with the anticipation of feasting on her blood. Now he wanted to feast on... other things. Moments ago he’d been soggy with concern for her, but now his libido was kicking in fierce. The outfit wasn't helping. Too easy to imagine her commenting on what a big--

"Do have a yen for the helpless girly-girl costumes, don't you, Slayer?" He asked, willing his thoughts down another path.

"Oh, this?" She played with the skirt's hem in a most distracting manner. "Yeah, we were supposed to be Bronzing it tonight and Dawn had stolen this a couple of years back I guess. I found it in her closet, along with three of my favorite sweaters, and I'd be mad except that if she hadn't stolen them I wouldn't have them any more."

"So why aren't you?" Off her look he added, "Partying with the Scoobs?"

"Oh. So, it turned into an engagement party for Xander and Anya, which was.... anyway, then Tara and Willow had a fight about Willow decorating our table with magic. I mean, I don't get what the big is there, but on the other hand I get the impression Willow uses magic to brush her teeth any more."

Spike absorbed what she had said while Charlie Brown discovered a rock in his candy bag. "So you left the fete?"

Buffy pulled a fastener out of her hair and started teasing the braids apart. She was trying to kill him. "Tara and Willow bailed; Dawn had plans with Janice, and Anya's friend Hallie showed up so our party kinda fizzled out."

He decided to quit while he was ahead for once, and just sit and enjoy watching the movie with her. Wouldn't tempt fate quizzing her about why she'd dropped by, just be happy she had. Knew all too well who Hallie might be and wanted to stay far and away from that subject. By the time Linus and Charlie convened at the brick wall of lessons learned, her head had fallen back against the couch and she was clearly asleep.

The Slayer was asleep in his lair. There was a part of him, an increasingly ignored part that quailed that he -- William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers -- was now completely defanged. The greater part of him though was too busy preening at having gained her trust to care. Wished he could be more help to her. Usually when something so much as inconvenienced the Slayer, half the demon community was stepping up to take credit. This time, for all his investigating and intimidating, he’d no new information for her.

‘Course, he was a bit of a pariah in the demon community anymore; she was worth it. Her throat was exposed invitingly. Her skin was particularly dewy – the spa, he supposed. . Loosened from the braids, her hair was glossy and wavy. If he touched it, would she wake up and stake him?

The tinny sound of Ravel's Bolero interrupted the moment, however, as Buffy gasped awake to answer her phone. He could hear perfectly well that Dawn and Janice had pulled the classic double-cross, which the mums quickly figured out when one called the other.

"Great," Buffy muttered. "This is supposed to be my night off."

He donned his leather and grabbed his keys. "Got an idea where they might be," he told her.

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Between the drug cocktail and the massage, she felt practically ethereal, like she was floating above the couch instead of sitting on it. She flipped through another of the books Rupert had given her. She’d read all the relevant passages a dozen times over, and it still wasn’t making sense to her. She scanned again Willow’s notes on the spell, Rupert’s journal entries about Angel’s hell dimension experience and Buffy’s brief trip into a hell to rescue street kids from slave labor. It still wasn’t telling her anything more about where her daughter had been, what sorts of things she might have been through.

Attempting to get her daughter to open up had been a lost cause, but at least Buffy had seemed to enjoy the day. Joyce had hoped they could spend the evening together as well, but Buffy’s friends had other plans and according to Dawn her sister had mentioned something about a gift for Spike.

Spike. Something was going on there, another thing her daughter wouldn’t talk about. She respected that Spike had become her daughter’s lieutenant, but it was impossible to forget that only a few years ago she’d had to bash him with an axe before he snapped Buffy’s neck. On the other hand he’d nearly died protecting Dawn, and his despair at the funeral had been clearly genuine. He couldn’t stand to see the body. But Spike’s feelings had also led him to do things like chain Buffy to a wall. Joyce was a little concerned.

The body.

She flipped to something in Rupert’s notes again. All these accounts of popping in and out of hell dimensions were distinctly physical; only a few footnotes in Rupert’s books about possible metaphysical hells. Angel got sucked bodily into hell; Buffy went through a door in the floor. Willow’s notes mentioned repeatedly how Buffy had jumped through a hellgate to save them and how it was imperative that they bring her back from where she had gone.

But Buffy hadn’t gone anywhere, hadn’t gone through anything. Her body had landed right there on the ground. They had cleaned her and dressed her and buried her privately so that the robot could keep alive the myth that the Slayer still walked the Hellmouth.

The realization struck her like a physical blow. Buffy’s body had been left behind while her spirit had gone elsewhere. All through the phone call from Janice’s mother and her own call to Buffy, the only possible conclusion rang through her head.

Her baby had been in heaven.


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Dawn felt unbelievably stupid, like her whole body must be blushing. And it just made it worse being caught by Spike and her sister. And now he was walking home with them, which meant he'd probably still be there when Buffy reported her to Mom, who would have plenty to add to Buffy’s rant. She hated getting yelled at in front of her friends.

As soon as the ambulance pulled away with Janice, who was thankfully more startled than hurt, Buffy started up. Pointed her toward the house and turned her dial to 'intense lecture mode'. Blah blah blah sneaking out, blah blah worrying Mom, blah blah vampires. She had snorted at that, told Buffy she was just trying to live up to her legacy, but Buffy just did that clueless 'Everything's different when it's me' thing she always did when she played the Slayer card.

Dawn rolled her eyes and pretty much ignored whatever else Buffy was saying. It was especially hard to pay attention to the 'vampires bad' part when Buffy and Spike were walking so close together she was surprised they didn’t trip over each other’s legs. She knew Spike was an exception, but still. And it wasn’t like she'd known the guy was a vamp.

Buffy pulled her to a stop just as Dawn was about to stomp inside and whispered that Mom didn't need to know all the details. Dawn felt almost limp with relief as she climbed the porch steps, leaving Buffy and Spike to set up their next motorcycle lesson or make out or kick box or whatever.

Dawn was prepared to see her mother's disappointment face. She was not prepared for seeing her mother sprawled between the couch and coffee table.

Neither was Buffy, who burst in behind her screaming 'Mommy' over and over in a way that made Dawn's own anxiety double. Buffy babbled something and shook their mother's limp body hard. In a blink, Spike was there shoving her sister away from Mom and yelling over Buffy's objections that Joyce was breathing and that rattling her like that wasn't helping.

Dawn felt her legs buckle and she slumped down next to her mother's head and grabbed one of her hands. Spike had a hold on Buffy with one arm and had managed to fish her cell phone out of her pocket. Over Buffy's hysterics he gave details to the 911 people.

Buffy just kept hammering on him and yelling and Dawn didn't think she'd ever seen her sister lose it like that. Either her strength was sapped or Spike was taking one hell of a beating, and she whatever she was saying was coming out too frantic to be understood. Finally Spike stopped trying to talk over her, made a face, and smacked her across the face. Hard.

And nothing happened.

Nothing but Buffy hitting the floor hard, along with their jaws. All three of them went completely still. Buffy pushed further away from him and Spike himself thumped down on the floor by the staircase. Thinking fast, Dawn heaved herself up and moved to kneel beside him.

"Hit me," she hissed. He looked at her as though she'd lost her mind. "Him me, you idiot!" she bellowed at him.

So it had been a better idea in theory than reality, she mused when her head stopped spinning. But on the plus side, Spike had grabbed his own head and shouted 'buggering fuck!' so loud she knew he wasn’t faking, and Dawn was pretty pleased with herself. That is until, just audible over the approaching sirens, she heard Buffy whimper "What am I now?"

The EMTs barged in before anyone could think of an answer.

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There may be some delay before the next post. For one thing, I may need to get 7 written before I can really finish 6. Also, the fabulous Kar is going on vacation, so I might have to seek out a temp beta (gamma?)

Putting in the chip reveal early was a tough decision. This is a roller-coaster chapter, but I needed Buffy down again for OMWF to work. Please keep the feedback coming.