Living Vengeance by Ariel Dawn

Chapter #1 - Underwood and Fairchilde

Disclaimer: Joss owns the BTVS characters. I own Reagan. Feedback is really really very much appreciated. Special thanks to Bloodytearsoflife, who kindly Beta-ed this chapter for me and provided some wonderful suggestions. __________________________________________ Chapter 1: Underwood and Fairchilde Elizabeth Cecily Underwood fanned herself as she stood in the parlour of Mrs. John Chambers. It was unreasonably hot in the room, and Buffy, as she was known only to her closest friends, was dying to leave this party. She couldn’t believe that her watcher had actually accepted this invitation on her behalf. She knew that the Scourge of Europe had been making the rounds of parties in fashionable London, but honestly, there was only so much that she could possibly put up with. “Oh Miss Underwood?” Buffy turned to the voice and smiled sweetly. “Mrs. Chambers,” she acknowledged with a small bow of her head. “Miss Underwood, I hope that you are enjoying yourself this evening?” “Oh yes, Mrs. Chambers, delightfully so. I only stepped this way because of the dreadful heat.” Buffy fanned herself for emphasis of her point. “Oh yes I understand Miss Underwood. The weather has been extremely warm of late. Perhaps some punch, Miss Underwood?” “Oh yes, thank you Mrs. Chambers.” Mrs. Chambers scurried away and Buffy rolled her eyes imperceptibly behind her fan. Mrs. Chambers was the niece of the current head of the Watcher’s Council, and though it was doubtful that she knew that Miss Underwood, Buffy, was in fact the slayer, it was clear that Mrs. Chambers knew her to be a person of importance to her uncle. Buffy looked upon the mantle piece and the clock that resided there. This evening would never ever end! Luckily Buffy caught a glimpse of someone she did want to talk to. Mrs. Chambers, delightful woman that she was, had employed Mr. Fairchilde to bring her punch. “M..Miss...C..Cecily, Mrs. Chambers bade me bring you punch.” Mr Fairchilde held out the cup with a shaky hand. Buffy dipped her head and took the offered cup, making sure to brush her hand against his. The brief contact sending tingles down her arm. She flashed the young man with curly brown hair a dazzling smile. Buffy had been introduced into society by her middle name and generally she didn’t mind that no one knew that her first name was Elizabeth. But, she thought, I wouldn’t mind if William Fairchilde knew it. She really liked him. He was sweet and unassuming, kind and thoughtful. And she had a sneaking suspicion that he liked her too, or at least he wrote poetry about her. She only wished that he wasn’t so nervous around her all the time. They usually spent the more boring parties talking together, in a manner that even Buffy’s best friend had commented that Mr Fairchilde’s attentions had begun to turn in a serious direction. “Thank you Mr. Fairchilde, I am sure,” Buffy said, looking into her companion‘s clear blue eyes. “I had not expected you here this evening.” “Oh, no Miss Cecily, I had not an...anticipated my attendance either,” William replied, nervously brushing a wavy lock of hair from his forehead and readjusting his glasses. “So it seems that fate has brought us together once more then,” added Buffy, taking a small sip of her punch. “A f..fanciful notion, Miss Cecily.” Buffy fluttered her eye lashes. “Perhaps Mr. Fairchilde, but a wonderful notion all the same.” That comment had actually sent him into a blush. Buffy smiled and sipped her punch again. “Some of the other ladies were discussing the formation of a musical club,” noted Buffy. “It often plagues me that I was not given the opportunity to learn the pianoforte.” “To be sure Miss Cecily, it is a great loss.” Their conversation was interrupted as Mrs. Chambers once more appeared at Buffy’s side. “Mr Giles is at the door Miss Underwood. He says it’s urgent.” Buffy immediately put down the cup of punch with a frown. The evening had just turned interesting. Buffy offered her apologies to Mr. Fairchilde and bade him a cordial farewell. If Giles was at the door, then it was serious indeed. He hated Mrs. Chambers with a passion. Buffy turned briefly to look at her former companion in conversation once before making the turn towards the door and losing sight of him. Stepping into the entrance of the house Buffy noticed at once that her watcher was livid. He had been kept waiting in the entrance by the hostess’ orders. Mrs Chambers disliked Mr. Giles as much as he did her. “We’d best be away Buffy, there is evil afoot,” said the watcher in a low tone. “Isn’t there always?” the slayer commented, taking her wrap from the butler and heading out after her retreating watcher who didn’t even bother to say a polite goodbye to the hostess of the evening. Edmund Giles was always a man who understated the obvious. If he said that there was evil afoot, it must have been very serious indeed. “What is this evil that I am to fight?” she asked as they walked. “The Scourge.” The colour left Buffy’s face. The Scourge. Angelus, Darla and Drusilla. The vampires that had killed most of her hometown only weeks after she had been chosen. The vampires that had killed her father. “Where are they?” “Kensington.” That meant a carriage ride, she thought ruefully. “We are not going to confront them tonight. Tonight, we prepare. My intelligence on the group has indicated that they have only just acquired the house they are in now.” “I am not to confront them tonight?” “No.” “Mr. Giles! Pray excuse the outburst, I am ready. I have been training to confront Angelus and his brides for years, surely you cannot deny me this!” Giles looked at his slayer. “Buffy, you cannot battle against the Scourge this way, headstrong and impulsive. It will only lead to your death. We must prepare for the impending conflict.” “Angelus killed my father Giles,” Buffy added quietly. “Yes, I am well aware of that fact Buffy.” “Then you know why I have to kill him,” she said before turning and continuing on her way. __________________________________________ Buffy, dressed in her training clothes: a pair of boy’s breaches and shirt, struck out at her watcher, who was holding pads to protect himself. They had been ‘preparing’ for two hours now and Giles was starting to show that he was tired. “You should have seen William Fairchilde once you left the party,” came a voice from the doorway. Buffy turned to see her best friend, Reagan, standing in the doorway. Reagan was the daughter of another watcher and one of the few women her own age that the Council allowed her to associate with. “Did he say anything?” asked Buffy, instantly forgetting the presence of her watcher in light of this new topic of conversation. “He was most disappointed that you left. I think he retreated into a corner to write more poetry. I don’t understand how you put up with his simpering and stuttering,” said Reagan with an honest look to her face. “He is a good man, and a brilliant soul. There is something intensely pure about him,” said the slayer wistfully. “I will have to take your word for it Buffy. Personally, it is a wonder he even leaves his house.” “He leaves his house to see me,” said the slayer with a smile on her face. “You aren’t thinking about marrying him are you?” asked Reagan bluntly. “Why not? He’s a nice man, and he seems to like me a great deal. He may not be the wealthiest man in society, but then he isn’t a pauper. I like him Reagan, so...should he make me an offer...I do not think that I will reject him.” “Mrs. Elizabeth Fairchilde,” said Reagan smiling. “Mrs. Cecily Fairchilde,” corrected Buffy. “Pray, tell me that your husband will know your proper name?” “Yes,” said Buffy rolling her eyes. “I just prefer that society knows me by the name Cecily.” “Miss Underwood, could we possibly, resume our training for the evening?” said Giles annoyed. Buffy blushed a little and looked sheepish. “Please forgive me Mr. Giles,” said Buffy moving once more into a fighting stance preparing to hit the pads Giles was holding. “I do not understand your penchant for social attachments. I would have hoped the lesson of your father’s death would have made you wary to bringing any other persons into your life,” lectured the watcher. “A girl can’t be lonely forever Giles.” __________________________________________ Reagan and Buffy were escorted home by a council guard. Buffy certainly didn’t need an escort, but Reagan did, and there were appearances to be kept up. “Buffy, surely Mr. Giles will tell you to break off your friendship with Mr. Fairchilde? The last slayer was forced to break off her engagement when she was called,” said Reagan. Buffy really didn’t want to think about it. Of course it was always a possibility. She had heard the stories too; of the chosen ones being forced to give up friends, family and lovers in an effort to keep them safe. She knew a little about the matter actually. She had hesitated when the council wanted her to leave her family. She hadn’t kept her father safe, and that’s why he was dead. Angelus had decided to make her his next pet project, and her father and half of her town had paid for it. Mr. Giles had spent a month trying to convince Buffy to leave her family when she had been first chosen. By the time she finally agreed to be trained, the Scourge had already tracked down Buffy, the next slayer, so that Angelus could have the honour of making her his pet. So, alone in London, fast friends with Reagan, Buffy was blissfully unaware when the Scourge massacred her village. Buffy was an orphan in the Council’s care. The truth was, that with the exception of Reagan, Buffy had no friends of her own. Everyone was a watcher’s something. She lived with the Travers family, a family who had been watchers for eons. She had been taken there when she was brought to London for her training. Mr. Giles was a bachelor and it was unseemly for Buffy live with him alone in his small but fashionable flat. The Travers twins, Miranda and Felicity had been potential slayers at one time and had taken an instant dislike to Buffy at once, as she had committed the grievous sin of being chosen. The mutual dislike had turned to bullying on the part of the twins and icy glares on the part of Buffy. There wasn’t a day in which Buffy didn’t curse the day she was called. Buffy left Reagan at the door, bidding her friend goodnight and in the company of the Council’s escort and trudged up to her room. Miranda and Felicity were already in bed, snoring away. Buffy thanked the Lord for small blessings. Buffy sat down in her small room and lit a candle. She fumbled around for a few moments before bringing a journal out of a hiding spot. The worn book, which had seen tears and anger, had been bound and rebound, was held closed by a blue ribbon. Undoing the delicate ribbon, Buffy opened the journal to reveal a few well loved photographs. The eyes that stared back at her were familiar and any stranger who happened across the photos would know at once that the individuals shown there were family. Buffy wiped a tear from her cheek and placed the photos of her father, mother and little sister back into the journal. She secured the book with the blue ribbon and set about dressing for bed. Buffy had no lady’s maid, unlike the Travers twins. She had to do up her own corset every morning. There were times she felt that she was a second class citizen in her adoptive home. That was why she fantasized about marrying and getting away from the sneers and jeers of the Travers home. The problem was that she wasn’t a normal girl. Reagan was destined to be a watcher. Miranda and Felicity too. Buffy would be a slayer until she died, which probably wasn’t far off. Buffy slipped in between the covers and settled down to a restless sleep. The Scourge were in town. Maybe her death was closer than she thought. __________________________________________ The next day Buffy was called into the board room of the Watcher’s Council and was faced with seven dour looking old men sitting around a rectangular table and staring disapprovingly at her. “It has come to our attention Miss Underwood that you are harbouring feelings towards one William Fairchilde.” “I am,” she admitted. Buffy realised her mistake right away. She should have never discussed William in front of Giles. Or in the Council’s training room, where eyes and ears were always at key holes. No one could keep a secret from the Council. “You are aware, I should hope, that any relationship you anticipate to have with this young man is not only dangerous to yourself, but also to him,” said Mr. Quinn, the head of the council. “Yes, Sir,” said Buffy looking down at the ground. “Therefore, you are hereby ordered to make it clear to the young man that there will be no further relations between you.” Buffy looked up in shock at the head watcher. “You can’t make me do that!” she protested, her heart breaking. “You are Our Slayer, Miss Underwood. You will do as we say, or we will take steps to provide ourselves with a Slayer that is more obedient.” Buffy hung her head. She had heard this threat before. The same threat that she had obeyed with in the past, leaving her family unprotected in their small hamlet of a village in Sussex. She had obeyed then too. Self preservation, a key ingredient to the council’s program of control by fear. “So that’s it then? I break his heart and you let me live?” she asked, not needing the clarification that it provided. “Essentially.” __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #2 - Heartbreak

Disclaimer: Buffy, Giles, Spike, not mine. Reagan, mine. K? Author's note: Some dialogue taken from the episode Fool for Love. Once again hugs to my fabulous Beta Bloodytearsoflife. Feedback is very much appreciated. __________________________________________ Chapter 2: Heartbreak “I told you that this would happen,“ said Reagan sadly, as she stood in the afternoon sun that was shining through Buffy’s bedroom window. Buffy had just sniffled and sobbed through the recounting of her morning meeting with the Council. “Yes, you did,” sniffled Buffy. “When are you going to tell him?” Buffy raised her head up off her friend’s bed and looked glaringly at her friend for suggesting that she would ever do what the Watcher‘s Council wanted. “I’m not! I won’t tell him. I won’t do it Reagan. It’s my life.” “But it’s not Buffy, you are Chosen.” “I don’t care!” she cried. “I don’t have anyone, Reagan, except you. Why can’t I try to have normal life? Don’t I deserve to have a normal life after everything that’s happened to me?” “Angelus wants to make you his pet Buffy. He’s already killed your father, what will happen if he gets his claws into William too?” Buffy turned her tear stained face towards her friend, unwilling to admit that Reagan was right. “Think about it Buffy. It’s really for his own good. And your mental health. A hysterical Slayer is not an effective Slayer.” Reagan moved towards her friend and brought out a handkerchief to dry her eyes. “If you really care about him, let him go Buffy, to save his life.” __________________________________________ Cried out and completely exhausted, Buffy forced her body through yet another one of Giles’ gruelling training sessions. It was as if she had just shut down. She answered in one word responses, she paid scant attention to her instructor and sat down at every opportunity. Finally Giles had had enough. “Your sulking about Mr. Fairchilde is not going to eradicate the Scourge from our shores Buffy,” said the watcher harshly. Buffy sniffled. “You are the Chosen One, you have no time for romantic attachments. You live in the darkness, while he lives in the sun. There can be no future for you with him, Buffy, can’t you see that?” “How can I not see that Giles? Everyday I am told that I have to be or act a certain way. But not with him. I can be me with him. And I don’t understand why. My whole life had been intricately choreographed, first by my mother who wanted the perfect lady, now by the Council who wants the perfect slayer. I’ve been told how to act and what faults I make. Now I meet this man who likes me just the way I am. With all my faults and imperfections, he still thinks I’m perfect. He writes poetry about me Giles!” “Sounds like a poncy git if you ask me,” murmured Giles under his breath. Buffy didn’t hear it. “I am a slave to the Council’s will. If I don’t do what they say, they will kill me.” “I am afraid that is true Buffy,” Giles admitted, taking off his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want to die, Giles. But I don’t want to give him up either.” __________________________________________ Misery incarnate, that was what she felt like. Forced into yet another party, forced to pretend she had a social life. Forced to keep away from the one person at these parties she liked to talk to. She had been sitting on a sofa far removed from the rest of the party. “He’s here,” said Reagan behind her fan. Buffy groaned. “He’s writing poetry about you again.” “Reagan, I beg you, please stop.” “I am sorry Buffy, you know I love you. My father took me aside yesterday, he wants me to persuade you to break with William tonight.” “We all are pawns in their game,” she commented, resigned. “Sadly yes,” responded her friend, taking her hand. “I wish I could do something for you Buffy.” “Me too.” Reagan dropped her hand. “Do you want some punch?” Buffy nodded. “I’ll be back in a moment then,” said her friend. It was only a moment; no harm could come from only a moment, right? Buffy decided it was most definitely a wrong sort of statement to have made. For in that moment Mr. Fairchilde appeared before her. “Cecily?” inquired Mr. Fairchilde. Buffy turned and sighed. She didn’t want to see him now. Seeing him, meant making a decision. Seeing him meant choosing him or her life. “Oh. Leave me alone,” she commanded and confusion quickly set in on his face. William looked back at the other guests as a burst of laughter erupted from the other room. “Oh, they're vulgarians. They're not like you and I.” “You and I?” asked Buffy. That was a comforting thought. Unfortunately the image of her and William standing together against the world included assassins from the Council and the Scourge of Europe. Buffy steeled herself for what had to come next. “I'm going to ask you a very personal question and I demand an honest answer. Do you understand?” William nodded sincerely, sitting down beside her on the couch. It broke her heart to have to say these things, but she had to make sure that he got the message. “Your poetry, it's... they're... not written about me, are they?” Buffy inwardly cringed. She knew that they were about her, and she had delighted in it. It showed true affection. To use his poetry against him...it was beyond cruel. “They're about how I feel.” “Yes, but are they about me?” “Every syllable,” William answered drawing his back up straight and looking at her with his piercing blue eyes. “Oh, God!” Buffy willed the tears back. It would never do to say that the Slayer cried. Even when her insides were being torn up by what she was forcing herself to do. “Oh, I know... it's sudden and... please, if they're no good, they're only words but... the feeling behind them... I love you, Cecily.” He loved her! Buffy’s heart leapt at the thought. For a split second she had thoughts of taking his hand and running away from everything with him. But of course if she did that, they would find her. They would always find her. “Please stop!” she begged as she turned away, fighting hard to keep her tears from coming to the surface. “I know I'm a bad poet but I'm a good man and all I ask is that... that you try to see me...” “I do see you.” That much was certain. She saw him with perfect clarity. “That's the problem.” Buffy gulped, turning to look at him once more. “You're nothing to me, William. You're beneath me.” Unable to sit there and watch his heart break, Buffy stood and left the room. She bumped into Reagan who had gotten punch. “I am leaving Reagan.” “Is it done?” Buffy nodded and burst into tears, as she fled from the party. __________________________________________ The commotion of the party was such that Reagan did not immediately leave after her friend. She watched in stealth for a moment, Mr. Fairchilde’s reaction to Buffy’s declaration. It was painful to watch. She could see the inner struggle not to cry. The man, for which she had some respect due to his affection for her friend, half walked half stumbled out of the room and past Reagan. “Mr. Fairchilde,” Reagan greeted as he past. The man stopped and looked at her harshly. She was her friend. William straightened up, looking at Cecily’s friend. He would not give Cecily anymore fuel to fire her retched opinion of him. “Miss Wyndham,” he greeted back, his voice only slightly wavering. “What Miss Underwood said...She was forced, her guardians...” the girl trailed off, not completely conveying her message. It didn’t matter though. William didn't need to hear any excuses for what Cecily said that day. Without bothering to say goodbye to Miss Wyndham or to the hostess of the party William headed out the doors in contemplation of those words that had changed his world. “You're nothing to me, William. You're beneath me,” she had said. Beneath him. Beneath him. He had considered her an angel in a dull, cruel world, but she was just as cruel as all the others. William walked out into the street, unable to contain this tears any longer. He thought, if only he could make it to the stables without breaking down completely he would be fine. His thoughts turned to anger at the poem that he still held in his hand. Her poem. His sadness turned to momentary rage, and he set about tearing his poem up into bits of paper that he felt were representative of the size of the pieces of his heart. He barely registered bumping into a trio of pedestrians. Back at the doorway of Mrs. Sinclair’s house, Reagan watched with dread as she saw with whom William had bumped into. Angelus, Darla and Drusilla: The Scourge of Europe. __________________________________________ Locked in her sparse bedroom, Buffy sobbed her heart out. Quietly through her sobs she head a rap at her door. “Buffy, they’re on the move,” came Giles’ voice. Buffy looked up from her pillow and glared at the door. “Go away!” she wailed. “Buffy!” “No!” she sobbed. “You make me train, you make me break his heart, you tell me where to live, whose parties to attend. I broke his heart, I won’t do it!” “Elizabeth Cecily Underwood!” Buffy threw open the door angrily, her face wet and puffy. “Please Giles. I lost my family because I was the Slayer, I’ve lost William. Don’t make me die too.” Giles paused and looked into her green eyes. She was right of course. And he hated to have to say to her what he had to. “They are in the West End,” stated Giles. “Spotted not far from the party tonight.” Buffy eye’s widened a bit. “It’s an order?” she asked hesitantly. “I’m to slay Angelus?” Giles only nodded. Buffy sniffled and nodded. “I have a condition.” Giles nodded. She deserved it. “If I live I’m going to grovel at his feet and whether or not I return to his good graces, I will no longer let the Council use my feelings for him against me.” “Agreed.” Buffy grabbed a stake from her dresser and headed out the door. “Show me where he is.” __________________________________________ The hackney cab came to a halt not a block from the party she had attended that night. Buffy slipped from the cab only to close her eyes, allowing her slayer sense to guide her into the direction she needed to go. It took her to a house, one she recognized as belonging to a Mrs. Janesay, a widow of considerable means. A woman she saw only three days ago. Buffy took a deep breath and walked forward. The house appeared normal, but if Giles said that this house was inhabited by the Scourge, and Angelus, who viciously tortured and murdered her father, because she was a Slayer, because she was to be his next pet project. Buffy’s thoughts drifted to the creature who had been her unlikely saviour in that case, Darla. It had been Angelus’ sire that had forced him to relocate, halting his plans for the Slayer. Somewhere in this unimposing house, were both vampires and the loony childe of the clan, Drusilla the mad. Buffy looked down at her hand, which clutched a stake. She really did need a plan. She looked back at the cab, where her watcher watched. Starting off to the left of the house, Buffy hiked up her long skirts and tucked one side up into the ribbon around her waist, she undid her coiffed hair and shook it loose, as she walked down the block to enter by the back of the house. Entering the back courtyard that serviced the houses that surrounded it, Buffy focused in on the Slayer tinglies that only meant vampires. Buffy crawled up to a cellar window and tested whether or not it was locked, when it pushed open easily, Buffy cursed her good luck. She slid into the house quietly, landing into a pile of cloths that smelled like dirty nappies. Ewww, she thought to herself. The whole cellar looked as if it had only just been cleaned of human excrement. Mrs. Janesay must have finally gotten around to installing a water closet, observed the Slayer, as she found her way to the stairs. Buffy reached the top of the cellar stairs with only a minimal amount of groping in the dark. Cracking the door cautiously, she stepped on to the main floor of the house and closed the door behind her. The tinglies were coming in two directions now, meaning that Angelus wasn’t alone. Her inner debate about which direction to take was cut short by the appearance of Madame Darla herself. “Why isn’t it the little Slayer that Angelus is oh so fond of,” cooed the vampiress. Buffy gulped. “Fear, it’s a lovely smell. Let me guess, that lovely Council has sent you to take care of us again hasn’t it? Pity, I liked taunting Angelus about his failure to do to you what he did to Drusilla. Now it seems, I’ll get to kill you myself. I guess that’s a good thing, because frankly I don’t think I’d like to live with two Drusillas.” Darla took a step towards Buffy. “We’ve been looking out for you, you know. Where you live, what you wear, who you are friends with. I must say I liked that Reagan girl.” Darla smiled sickly. “She was yummy.” “You are just trying to make me panic,” said Buffy at last. “From the smell of things, my dear, it’s working.” Darla took another step forwards. “But if you don’t believe me, you will when you get to that gloried place in the sky, that all good Slayers go to, when they’ve been drained dry.” Buffy took another step back. “Can we get this over with?” asked Buffy flippantly. “I have things to do and other vampires to slay tonight.” “Which vampires would they be?” asked Darla innocently. “Would they be me now lass?” came the Irish brogue of Angelus from behind the slayer. Buffy turned around to see her father’s killer not three inches from her. “Ahh, gentle Elizabeth, how I have longed to hold you in my arms once again, so that I could snap your neck,” he said with a sickly smile. “Something has been bothering my mind a great deal since we first came to London though, you go by the name of Cecily here, your mother’s name, isn’t that a bit deceitful then? What will poor William say when he finds out you’ve been a naughty girl?” “How do you know about William?” she asked scared. “We’ve been following you,” said Darla, “I thought I’d mentioned that.” “And now, you can join us for dinner,” said Angelus, shifting into his fangs. Buffy pulled her stake out of her pocket and launched herself at Darla who had not yet shifted, pushing the vampiress out of the way and fleeing down the hall into the parlour of the house, where she had once taken tea with Mrs. Janesay. “You nasty Bitch!” screamed Darla as she examined the damage to her dress. There was a large rip in the skirt. Buffy shrugged her shoulders and prepared to fight them off, with her very life. __________________________________________ tbc... Review? Please?

Chapter #3 - Misery

Disclaimer: The Characters of BTVS and ATS are the property of Joss Whedon and various other people/entities. I am only using them for fun and entertainment only. This is the sad reality that hits me when I wake up from my naked Spike filled dreams. Author’s note: Thanks and hugs to my fabulous beta, Bloodytearsoflife. This chapter really had some problems before she tackled it. Thanks also to the fab people who have reviewed, thank you for putting up with my weird penchant for multiple names of characters. (To which I say hey Joss did it too...Liam, Angel, Angelus??? Huh? and how about Anya, Aud and Anyanka??? Ok, I’m done, rant terminated.) __________________________________________ Chapter 3: Misery Buffy backed away from the approaching vampire and his sire. This does not look good at all, thought Buffy. She backed into a small table knocking over some of Mrs. Janesay’s nick knacks, her long skirt brushing against pillows and frames of items that obviously the vampires had discarded. Buffy threw another table into Darla’s path and made a break for it, running with ease despite her long skirts. Buffy rounded the corner of the hallways and ran up the stairs, throwing down a small table once she reached the next level, a potential obstacle. Reaching the second floor Buffy headed into a bedroom. Calling on her mystical Slayer strength, Buffy pushed a very heavy armoire in front of the door. She stood for a moment to catch her breath and firmly decided that she should use her time wisely and come up with an actual plan. The bedroom was dark, the only illumination the street lamps outside. Buffy knew that Darla and Angelus wouldn’t be far behind her. She needed a plan, a plan other than a straight out fight. A straight out fight she would never win. Her trusty stake was all that stood between Angelus and her life. If she survived, she was never wearing skirts again. Buffy glanced around the room, looking for potential weapons. Her eyes lighted on a pair of shears, poking out of a sewing basket and without a moment’s hesitation, she began to hack away at her skirts. She hadn’t gotten very far with it before Angelus broke through the hastily barricaded door. “Ah, lass, let’s end this game we play. Just give up, you’ll never win. You dust one of us and a hundred more are risen every night,” said the vampire. She knew it was true. Being a Slayer was an endless fight. “That very well maybe true Angelus,” spat the Slayer. “But at least I know in some small way, I am a very large thorn in you side.” She smiled. “Not for long you won’t be.” Angelus advanced on her with glee in his eyes. Buffy set her brow in determination and waited for his first blow, which she parried and forced back using her right arm, sporting the shears, cutting a large gash through Angelus’ expertly tailored suit. Angelus drew back in horror as blood seeped from his cut. Buffy smiled and launched into a fury of punches and jabs towards the face of her adversary. Angelus fought back with equal fervour eventually pushing Buffy down onto an end table, knocking it down in the process. Buffy looked up from her prone position on the floor and wiped the blood from her lip. Angelus approached. Buffy rolled away towards the middle of the room, towards the canopy bed. It was here that her body collided with a lump, her hand brushing against something cold and clammy as she hoisted herself up from the floor. Buffy grimaced as she recognized what and who it was. Mrs. Janesay. Mrs. Janesay, who was snarling at her. Mrs. Janesay, who was flashing her newly acquired fangs at her. Buffy closed her eyes and plunged her stake into the still sprawling and obese body of Mrs. Janesay. The distraction of Mrs. Janesay rising up as a member of the undead however, gave Angelus time to wrap his hands around Buffy’s neck. She let out a terrified gasp and struggled against his choking grip. Suddenly Buffy struck her head backwards, knocking Angelus in the nose, and breaking his grip on her neck. Buffy breathed in a few haggard breaths before making for the French doors of the balcony. She flung herself over the side grabbing onto the trellis. Without warning, she was grabbed by the collar and raised up to look directly into the burning amber eyes of her opponent, her legs still dangling over the side. He was angry. “Good bye, Slayer. When you awaken, you will be mine,” purred Angelus, tilting Buffy’s head and inching his fangs towards her neck. Buffy felt the harsh needles of his fangs enter her skin. Silently, she whispered a prayer for her soul, and that of William‘s, before succumbing to her fate at the hands of the vampire that killed her father. __________________________________________ When Buffy opened her eyes again she did not feel the terrible hunger that she expected to feel as a vampire. In fact she didn’t feel much at all. She was in a barely lit room, in a bed from what she could gather. Her head hurt, a lot. Raising her hand to her head, she was suddenly overcome with a bout of dizziness. Somehow, she didn’t think that she was a vampire. No way could vampires feel this way and then go out for human snacks. Her hand travelled to her neck where she found Angelus’ marks, healing and already scabbed over. After lying in the dark room, contemplating what had happened and where exactly she was, Buffy attempted to leave her confining bed. But something was wrong. She couldn’t move her legs. A look of panic passed over her face. Nothing she could do would make her legs work. Buffy pulled back the blankets and what was left of her skirts to reveal her legs, which looked normal. But still she couldn’t move them. “Giles?” she yelled panicked. She really didn’t expect him to peer from behind the doorway of the room, but was intensely relieved when it was his calm face that appeared. He was smiling sadly, his usual kempt style slightly dishevelled. “Buffy, child, you are awake,” he said relieved, coming to her bedside. “How do you feel?” “Confused. Giles, my legs, are they broken? I don’t feel any pain, but I can’t move them!” she started to wail. “Dr. Mason examined you when I brought you back. He noticed nothing wrong.” “Well he was wrong Giles, bring him back,” ordered a panicked Slayer. Giles smiled. She was making demands as usual. Normal behaviour for Buffy Underwood. “I will do that at once Buffy.” “Where am I Giles?” she asked in a little voice, revealing the feeling of uncertainty she felt. “You are at the Council headquarters Buffy.” “And how did I escape with my life?” she asked in an equally small voice. “That was my doing. I shot Angelus with a flaming arrow. He dropped you from the balcony onto the street. The house was in flames as I left with you.” Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. If she had been a vampire, they certainly would not have brought her back to their secret enclave. Giles had saved her. “Giles? Angelus and Darla, they told me Reagan was dead...” “Reagan is fine Buffy, asleep in her bed as we speak. When the sun rises I will send for her.” Buffy smiled, but Giles did not return the smile. “Giles, please tell me. You have unpleasant face, like you are about to say something particularly unpleasant,” she ordered. “Mr. Fairchilde was found dead this evening. In the stables not far from the party,” he answered avoiding her gaze. “No.” Buffy shook her head. “No.” “It was vampires Buffy. We are certain of it,” continued the watcher. “NO!” she screamed. “No,” she whimpered, turning on her side and crying into her pillow, her legs flopping listlessly over the side of the bed. She cried. She cried for his death, and for the fact that it had happened anyway, even after she had done what the Council wanted. She was trapped in a horrible nightmare. She was a cripple and alone forever in a sea of despair. __________________________________________ Hours later, after Dr. Mason had finished his examination and pronounced that she would regain the use of the legs in a few days due to her superior Slayer healing, and after she had cried all the tears she had, Buffy asked the question that she dreaded to ask. “Was he turned?” she asked in a quiet voice. “We are uncertain. There are signs. Blood on his mouth. There will be a Watcher guarding his grave for the week, once he is buried.” Buffy nodded. “I want to be at his funeral Giles.” “We have not yet told his family Buffy.” Buffy suddenly thought back to his poor mother, Mrs. Farichilde, who was a widow, had now lost both of her children. So much loss. “When you do, I want to visit Mrs. Fairchilde.” “Of course, Buffy.” __________________________________________ Buffy eagerly awaited the day when her legs would regain their strength. She counted her blessings that she was not trapped in a house with the Travers twins. Especially now since she had heard from Reagan that their brother Marcus had returned home from his studies at Oxford. He was even worse than the twins. Buffy’s only news from the outside world came from Reagan who was a constant visitor, and Giles who checked in on her twice daily. William had risen. This was news that Buffy had dreaded hearing. Whoever had sired William had dispatched the Watcher keeping vigil over his grave. The Council’s fear was that William, should he be risen, would take revenge on Buffy for breaking his heart. They weren’t far off. Reagan was of the opinion that had Buffy been in society and not convalescing in a secret room, in a secret building, she surely would have been a target of the now William the Bloody. Most of the people that had attended that particular party were now dead. Some with railroad spikes through their heads. Not only did William the Bloody pose a problem for the Council who was suddenly with out a Slayer, but the Scourge seemed to taken an increasing interest in Buffy’s friends as well. Once she regained the use of her legs, she intended to stake Angelus once and for all. She only had to wait for her legs to heal. __________________________________________ But her legs didn’t heal. Buffy was left impotent and unable to leave her sequestered state as below her in conference rooms, Watchers decided her fate. Buffy knew that they were trying to decide what to do about her. A paralysed Slayer was useless and held the Slayer line hostage in a body that could only drain resources. It was Giles’ sighs and glances that made Buffy realize that her life was in jeopardy once more, this time from the Council itself. Again. She wanted to live. She wanted to take her own revenge on Angelus. She wished with all her heart that she had never been a Slayer. Reagan was the first to tell her the truth. Reagan had returned solemn from her home, and a discussion with her father. They were sending her to university within the week. “It can only mean one thing Buffy,” said Reagan with tears in her eyes. “They mean to euthanize you while I am gone. They would never do it while I was here. I wouldn’t allow it.” Buffy nodded, tears in her eyes as well. Reagan’s father had been putting off sending Reagan away to school for years now. It was more than suspicious that it was now decided she would go. “I won’t go!” cried Reagan. “I won’t let them kill you Buffy.” Buffy sniffled. “But how will you stop them Reagan?” she asked honestly. Reagan was as much controlled by the Council as she was. “I have to find a way. Perhaps we can do a spell?” asked Reagan hopefully. Buffy smiled. When they had first met Reagan and Buffy had spent a good deal of their spare time looking up spells to use on demons and vampires. Buffy had a feeling that Reagan was grasping at straws, but was grateful for her friend’s concern. They started looking into spells within the hour, pouring over texts that held curses and hexes, Buffy committed a few to memory. As they paused for refreshment, Buffy couldn’t help but notice Reagan looking far more woeful than before. “What is it Reagan?” Buffy asked, her friend’s sudden mood change worrying her. “Oh Buffy, I have something to confess.” “What is it?” Buffy asked with genuine concern Reagan set her tea down and stared at her hands. “That night, of the party, I tried to tell William why you did what you did, but he stormed off. I went after him and saw him bump into the Scourge. I didn’t think anything of it. My first thought was to inform Mr. Giles and the Council. I didn’t think they’d do anything to William. I swear it Buffy, if I’d known what would have happen, I’d gone after him,” she said through her tears. “I should have gone after him, made sure he was safe.” “Reagan, no,” said Buffy clasping her friend’s hands. If you had gone after him, you might well have been turned too. You aren’t a Slayer.” There was a brief moment where Buffy contemplated her existence if Reagan had been turned as well. The loss of her friend, even as an idea was unfathomable. “I feel so bad Buffy,” Reagan confessed, wrapping her arms around Buffy and hugging her. “Hush Reagan, there’s nothing to be done now. Just help keep me alive.” Reagan nodded her head and they continued on in their search for the perfect spell. The spell they eventually decided on was one to cloak Buffy’s essence from the Council, so that they would never find her. The spell was complicated, and they needed a host of expensive and dangerous ingredients to perform it. It was Reagan’s task to acquire the ingredients. They parted that night, exhausted but eager to perform the spell the next day. Provided Reagan could ‘borrow’ the ingredients they needed from her father. The next day Buffy waited patiently for her friend’s visit. Reagan never came. Buffy spent a large portion of the day in denial. Of course Reagan would come. Reagan, her friend would come for her. By midnight, Buffy had to accept that Reagan wasn’t coming. She had been caught stealing the ingredients for the potion, or she had been sent away by her father early. A dozen horrible scenarios danced through Buffy’s head, as she sat on her small bed, with nothing to distract her thoughts, and no visitors to pass the time with. Just the incessant ticking of the mantle piece clock to interrupt the silence. __________________________________________ Buffy’s heart beat relentlessly. She knew they were going to come for her while they thought she was sleeping. It was hard to keep her eyes from closing given the lack of distraction in the room. She couldn’t see what time it was when they finally did enter the room, quietly. Buffy heard the door close and the four bodies that were in the room with her approached her bed. Buffy’s eyes snapped open as two of the men held down her arms on the bed, and one brought a pillow down on her face. Quietly, with the last breath she had, Buffy gasped a rough combination of all the spells she had memorized from the book of hexes and curses. The sound of terrible screaming of her attackers was the last thing to fill her ears before the darkness and silence engulfed her. __________________________________________ Buffy regained consciousness by herself in her sick room, alone, her attackers nowhere in sight. The pillow that had been intended as her murder weapon lay uselessly on the floor. In the distance she could hear the muted screams of men. Buffy’s heart beat rapidly and she began to think about the curse that she had muttered. Then she understood the screams. Her curse was a combination of two: one to make blood boil, and one an Egyptian tome robber’s curse. The four men that had tried to kill her were suffering from her curse; and would until they died, or until they killed themselves because of the pain. Buffy lay back on her bed and laughed. Her curse had been uttered in such a way that made it so anyone who tried to kill her would suffer from the same curse. The Watcher’s Council would never be able to get rid of this Slayer problem. She could live her life now without fear. Her laughter echoed through the hallways of the Council building. Buffy breathed after a particularly long period of manic laughter only to see a greyish demon, with a long white beard sitting at leisure in her bedroom. “Who are you?” Buffy asked, sitting up as best she could. “I think the question is my dear, who are you? I’ve never known a Slayer to slay her Watchers before,” said the curious demon. “I did not slay my Watcher. Only those that tried to kill me,” uttered Buffy. “That is true, a hex so powerful. You do know that this curse will protect you all your life?” “I had a feeling,” said Buffy with a smile. “Of course if you weren’t the Slayer you would have been long dead by the time you muttered your curse.” Buffy shrugged. “You still haven’t answered my question.” “You haven’t answered mine.” “I am Elizabeth Cecily Underwood.” “No title to go with that?” “No, I’ve given up the Vampire Slayer thing. If you haven’t noticed, they just tried to kill me.” The demon nodded. “Fair enough my dear. And I must say again that your curse, truly brilliant. I haven’t seen something that innovative since, well, it’s been a good long time.” “Thank you.” “I’ve come to make you an offer.” “What kind of an offer?” Buffy asked. “An offer that will allow you to regain the use of your legs, though you would also be a demon.” “There’s got to be a catch other than that,” said the Slayer. “You’d be one of my girls, Vengeance demons. Heard of Anyanka?” Buffy rolled her eyes. “Yes I have heard of Anyanka, you made her too?” “Elevation is what it is called.” “You want to elevate me?” she asked curious. “Yes, my dear.” “And I wouldn’t be the Slayer anymore?” “No.” A smile spread over Buffy’s face. __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #4 - Making Peace

Disclaimer: Joss’ Buffy was a Slayer. I made her a demon. Author’s note: Thanks to everyone who’s been leaving feedback, it is very much appreciated! Another word about just how fabulous Bloodytearsoflife is. Another fabulous beta-ing job on this chapter and thanks for the way you made me go “aww” *An oubliette is a kind of closet with no floor, a secret prison that were frequently built into medieval homes and castles. People were pushed into them and forgotten, usually dying of starvation or from the wounds they received when they fell. So there’s the history lesson for the day, on with the fic __________________________________________ Chapter 4: Making Peace Elizabeth Cecily Underwood, now known simply as Erixel, was a vengeance demon. And she was happy about it. Buffy spun in place after she regained the use of her legs, her arms spread out, and the skirt of the nightgown she was wearing floated around her as she spun. D’Hoffryn clapped with glee at the joy and bliss that was coming from the former Slayer from his seat at the foot of her sick bed, his robes hanging off of him like a king in state. “I feel it, D’Hoffryn,“ she said with awe as she took in what she could see of the world with her new demon senses. “I feel all the people that have been badly treated, all the humans that feel wronged. I want to help them.“ “Of course you do my dear,” smiled the demon. “There are a few things of course that you should know first before you venture out into the world. Your pendant,” said the Demon pointing to the necklace that now adorned her upper chest, it‘s red stone gleaming in the early morning sun that shone through a tiny dirty window. “That pendant is the source of your power. Without it you are as you were before, a human, powerless. With it you cannot be killed, except by beheading.” Buffy nodded. “I require a certain number of vengeance wishes to be cast on a monthly basis. I’ll start you out slow. However, there is one of my girls that I would particularly wish you to meet, she is my favourite, and she’s good at what she does.” “Anyanka.” D’Hoffryn smiled. “Make your peace with your pass life. I will be waiting for you in Arashamahar.” Buffy nodded, instinctively knowing just what he was talking about. It obviously came with the Demon package. D’Hoffryn teleported out of the room in a puff of smoke, leaving the slightly charred smell of what had once been the chair at the foot of her bed and the newly created Vengeance Demon to make her peace. With a determined air about her, Buffy walked out of her sick room, a room that she had occupied for what seemed an eternity. To make her peace she needed to see very few people. And only one of them was in this building. __________________________________________ Buffy found Giles reading in a parlour of the massive edifice. He was startled when she called his name. The relief and confusion that passed over his face was evident. “Buffy?” asked the Watcher. “They told me you had died, days ago.” Buffy shook her head and smiled sadly. “No I didn’t die, but they tried to kill me. Giles, why didn’t you stop them?” Giles stood, letting the book he had been reading fall to the ground. “They told me you had taken your own life, that you couldn’t bear to be confined any longer. Had I known, had they let me see you...” Buffy grabbed his hands. “Dearest Giles. Please, don’t worry about it now. I know how this Council is run; I know how we are all pawns. I won’t be a pawn in their larger plan any longer. I’m free, just as I said I would be. No more Council to dictate what I do, no more giving up what my heart desires.” Giles exhaled. He liked the happiness in her eyes that he saw. He was sorry to have to squash it. “But you are alive, Buffy,” said the Watcher sadly. “You are the Slayer still.” “No Giles, I’m not,” she said without further explanation. The warm touch of her hands told him that she was not undead. Giles looked at her with confusion. “You must promise me something, dearest Giles.” Buffy looked pleadingly into the eyes of the man who’d become her father figure after her own father’s demise. The Watcher nodded, and had an inkling of a feeling in his gut that this might be the last time he‘d see his Slayer. “Promise that you will take care of yourself Giles. Have a family. Stay away from Angelus. And be very careful what you wish for in front of strangers.” Giles raised an eyebrow curiously, but the Slayer would not give any further information. Buffy turned and headed out the doorway. “Will I ever see you again Buffy?” asked the Watcher, staring after his former pupil. “Perhaps Giles, but only if you are very naughty.” __________________________________________ Reagan stared open mouthed at the tale Buffy told her. Sitting in the dark oubliette* that Reagan had been imprisoned in, Buffy had recounted the tale of the Watchers trying to suffocate her, her encounter with D’Hoffryn and her elevation to demonhood. “So they pushed you down here?” asked her friend. Reagan nodded. “I didn’t even know we had one of these in the house.” Reagan looked up at the stone walls that surrounded her. She had been lucky that her fall hadn’t broken any bones, suffering only from some minor bumps and scrapes. She had attempted to scale the walls of the oubliette but there were no handholds in the rock. When Buffy had jumped down she had thought the Slayer was nuts, there was no possible way they would both get out of there, they would starve to death. Now, after Buffy’s extraordinary tale, Reagan realized something: Buffy could teleport. “What will you do now?” asked Reagan. “Be a Vengeance Demon, for a while at least, until I get bored of it, then maybe I’ll break my pendant and settle down with someone sweet and gentle...” “Like William?” Buffy was quiet for a while. Reagan cleared her throat before continuing. “It’s been confirmed, the newest terror on the streets of London is William the Bloody. He’s been driving railroad spikes into people’s heads. And his mother is missing.” Buffy gulped. “Missing?” Reagan nodded. “Is Mrs. Fairchilde dead too, then?” asked Buffy. “No one knows, well at least they didn’t before I was pushed down here.” Buffy grabbed her friend’s hands. “Reagan you have to get away from them, the Council, you can’t stay here with your father.” “Well first I have to get out of here...”said Reagan looking up at the doorway she was unable to reach. “I wouldn’t leave you down here Reagan,” said Buffy with a smile. “But where will you go?” “Where I should have gone a long time ago, to the university like I was promised.” Buffy nodded. __________________________________________ Buffy was enjoying her new powers as a Vengeance Demon, the teleporting was very very fun. The ability to have money and clothes and a place to stay all at the blink of an eye, made her wish that she had brought vengeance down on the Watcher’s Council sooner than she had. And she was ready to do her vengeance chores; she wanted to make others pay. But first she had to see him. She had to make him understand. She had to make things right. Finding him wasn’t hard, given that it was common knowledge that he was sired by Drusilla, childe of Angelus. Or rather it was common knowledge to anyone who believed in Vampires and Demons. Buffy just causally walked up to the house from which she took her tragic fall and entered uninhibited. The house was much the same as it had been that night, though a few of the pieces of furniture had been replaced. At that point, Buffy seriously wished for her Slayer sense to be restored. Elevated she sensed the wish for vengeance above all things, but she knew could also sense other demons. Angelus had so many minions she had no idea which feeling she should follow. Buffy climbed the stairs, moving towards the master bedroom, she anticipated finding Angelus and his brides, sleeping the day away. Opening the master bedroom door, Buffy was surprised to see only Darla and Drusilla sleeping wrapped in each other’s arms barely covered by the quilt that was draped strategically in all the right places. Buffy quietly closed the door, not wanting to wake the nude vampires. This meant that Angelus was somewhere else in the house. And her William was probably with the sadistic bastard. Buffy walked to the next bedroom, and opened the door. She stifled a laugh as she saw Angelus, who had clearly passed out from his abuse of the whiskey he was so fond of. The empty bottles that surrounded him were a testament to just how much the vampire had drunk. Buffy opened the door still further, noticing that not only had Angelus passed out in a puddle of alcohol, but also that he had neglected to close the windows of this particular room. Buffy shrugged her shoulders. For some reason she had no wish to dust Angelus at the moment, but if he got a little crisp, she wasn‘t about to complain. What she wanted was to find her William. The next room revealed nothing. Nor the next. Buffy climbed the stairs to the attic and the servants quarters. In the far back room, probably one that had belonged to a lowly maid or stable boy, was her William, wearing only his breaches and chained to the wall. He was unconscious, hanging, his arms held tightly by manacles. “Oh William,” said Buffy sadly, reaching out to touch him. He was covered in cuts and bruises, marring the pretty pallor of his skin. “I’m so very, very sorry,” she began, her hand finally making contact with his bruised face. Angelus had done this to him, she was certain of it. William groaned as he woke up. It took him a few seconds to process the images that his eyes were sending him, his brain telling him his eyes were deceiving him. “Cecily?” he asked hesitantly. Buffy nodded. “It’s me William. I had to come, I had to explain. I had to say how truly sorry I am.” Buffy moved a step closer, her hands ghosting over his injuries. Then taking a step back she knelt at his feet. “Sorry for what?” he asked harshly, his voice rough. “For breaking my heart? For sending me out into the night to meet Drusilla? She changed me you know.” Buffy nodded with tears in her eyes. “I know William. One of them were going to kill you anyway. Angelus, he wanted to have me, to make me like Drusilla, I was his project.” William shook his head. “No, all he ever talks about is his Elizabeth, his Slayer that got away.” “Me,” she said sadly. “Elizabeth Cecily Underwood.” Buffy looked up at him, her green eyes glistening with tears still yet unshed. “They made me do it, they were going to kill me, the Council, if I didn’t tell you...crush your hopes, my hopes. Angelus would have killed you too, to get to me. Drusilla beat him to it.” William’s face lightened for a moment. “Your hopes?” he asked quietly. The poet in him was still very much alive, and his heart swelled at the idea that she might have reciprocated his feelings, however tragic their outcome was. Buffy nodded. “My hopes. I wanted it William, I wanted the dream. I wanted you. Now everything is changed, everything is ruined. You are a vampire and I’ve been changed, I’m a...” “Demon,” he said frankly. “I can smell the change Cecily.” “Buffy, please call me Buffy.” Buffy sniffled. “I’m a Vengeance Demon now... The Council, they tried to kill me, after Angelus dropped me from the balcony. I couldn’t walk, I was useless and crippled. I cursed them. I have a job to do now, to wreak vengeance, make people pay...people like the Council, but William...I want to see you again.” William shook his head, his dead heart breaking again. “I’m hers now, not yours.” Buffy turned away as if he’d slapped her, the tears she’d been keeping at bay finally falling. Buffy wiped a tear away with the sleeve of her dress. “She’s your Sire, I would expect nothing less,” she said in resignation as she wiped the last of her tears away. “I am sorry,” she stated again, looking into his bluer than blue eyes. She could see her pain reflected in his blue pools staring back at her. Once again she cursed everything that had led them to this moment. Buffy pushed herself up off the floor. “Pet?” William called after her. “Yes, William?” “I’m sure two immortal beings like ourselves will run into each other from time to time.” It was a beautiful thought, but would his Sire let him out her sight long enough for a few clandestine meetings? It was a hope, a hope she clung to with the very fibre of her being. Buffy smiled sadly. “I wish for it with all my heart, William.” “Spike.” “Beg pardon?” “Spike, better vampire name than William the Bloody Awful Poet don’t you think?” he said smugly. “You’ll always be William the Bloody Brilliant Poet to me William. And D’Hoffryn renamed me. I’m Erixel now, in demon circles.” “I’ll keep an ear out for you love.” “And I’ll do the same.” Buffy placed a small kiss on Spike’s cheek and walked out the door. Spike let out the breath that he found himself holding. It was true that as a vampire he didn’t need to breathe but he was finding that old habits die hard. “You’ll always be William the Bloody Brilliant Poet to me William.” Cecily’s words rung in his ear and he clenched his teeth in an effort to not let his tears spring forth. The injustice of the whole situation made it just that much worse. She had shared his feeling and because of the Council, she’d been force to break his heart, and hers too. His yell of frustration resonated in the room and he slumped against his restraints. Cecily wanted him. But why should that matter now? He had Drusilla, his ripe wicked plum, his black goddess. Deep down he knew why. He loved Cecily and always would, even if he was with Drusilla now. But he was immortal now, and so was Cecily. Things could change, and just one day, he knew they would be together. Spike shook his head, attempting to clear it of these rebellious thoughts. Drusilla had saved him from mediocrity. She had given him a new outlook on the world, a new purpose for being. For that he was forever indebted to her. It was ungrateful to think that any other woman, even Cecily could be anything to him now. Really what kind of life would they have had together? A genteel couple living beyond their means in a world that did not understand them. That was no life. Spike caught Cecily’s scent on a breeze of night air that floated through the window and bade a silent farewell to the woman he had thought of as his one true love. __________________________________________ “So he was tied to the wall?” asked Reagan, as they walked about Hyde Park in the daylight. Buffy nodded. “And you didn’t get him down?” Buffy shook her head. “Why ever not?” asked Reagan. Buffy shrugged. “He didn’t ask to be let down.” “So what are you going to do now?” asked Reagan. “I will go to Arashamahar, I suppose. Meet with the famous Anyanka,” said Buffy. “But I will keep in touch Reagan. I promise. If you ever want vengeance...” “I’ll know who to call on,” said Reagan with a smile. “You’d better Reagan Amelia Wyndham.” “I will. And I’ll do you one better...” Reagan pulled out a slip of paper from her purse and handed it to Buffy. “What’s this?” asked the demon. “This is the only way that the Council will stop hunting down William Fairchilde. I know you are worried about him. His connections, they are so close to the Council, and now that you’ve visited him...He’ll be a target, more so than any other newly fledged vampire.” Buffy looked down at the scrap of paper. On it was a spell that would obscure or remove all written entries made about William the Bloody. His truth would be hidden. The Council would never remember that he was once a member of their society, that he loved a Slayer or that he was turned because she was trying to protect him. She stared a while at the paper, contemplating the consequence of it. Finally, she spoke up. “Do it,” commanded the former Slayer. __________________________________________ Presented to Anyanka by D’Hoffryn himself was quite the honour, Buffy perceived. Other demons in the fabulously decorated room cowered in the corners, waiting for D’Hoffryn’s audience or Anyanka’s temper to flare. Anyanka, who’s past deeds were legendary, the demon who wreaked vengeance solely on men who mistreated their women, was a slight woman, no bigger than Buffy herself. Buffy presented her hand to the demon with a smile. “You must be Anyanka of whom I’ve heard so much,” said Buffy straight away. Anyanka smiled. “Erixel? Is it? D’Hoffryn has told me much about you. Is it true you were a Slayer? Imagine the bragging points that D’Hoffryn is going to get by elevating you.” Buffy blushed. “And the curse you did! Spectacular! I only wish I had come up with it. You must tell me how you did it!” Anyanka linked arms with the new demon and led her through the halls of D’Hoffryn’s chamber. The lips of the other demons in the room started to move as the gossip surrounding Erixel grew. Erixel and Anyanka were instant friends; Erixel was someone to be feared. __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #5 - Moving On

Author’s note: Thanks once again to the fab BTL who beta’d this chapter. Also thanks to everyone who’s been reviewing this story. I’m really happy that people like it, I was a little worried at first, but all the fab reviews are encouraging! Thanks! Disclaimer: Joss made ‘em, I play with ‘em. __________________________________________ Chapter 5: Moving On Erixel, the Vengeance Demon, was having a productive day. Buffy twisted her fist into the mangled remains of her latest victim. The man before her was scum, pond scum that even cows wouldn’t drink from. Removing her hand from the bloody remains Buffy looked around for something to wipe the blood off her hands. Buffy reached over and grabbed a towel from the man’s washstand. Looking down at her dress, which was now splattered with the man’s blood, Buffy sighed. Another dress ruined. This job was worse for her wardrobe than slaying had been. Without even a thought, Buffy teleported back to her own apartment on the Champs D’Elysée. She’d been in Paris for a month now, seeking out parents and guardians for her brand of vengeance. Only last week she had struck down the entire staff of an orphanage with small pox. Buffy threw back the doors to her wardrobe and inspected the dresses that hung there. It had been a whirlwind couple of years since her elevation to demonhood. In all that time she had been trained by D’Hoffryn and Anyanka, and was set on her way to being feared and revered in her profession. Despite her busy schedule Buffy had taken time to keep up with the important people from her human life. Reagan had gone to the university, just as she said that she wanted to. She was now a full fledged Watcher and about to be married to an equally new Watcher, a man by the name of Arthur Price. Buffy had been invited to the wedding. And she was actually considering going. A Vengeance Demon at the wedding of two Watchers. The truth was that Buffy felt like her friend was leaving her behind. Reagan, who couldn’t very well hold dinner parties every time Buffy was in town, was carrying on with her life. Someday, Reagan would have little Wyndham-Prices running around the house, something that Buffy would never have. Reagan was her last human friend. Her friends now included those beings that, only a few years ago, she had been sent out into the night to slay. She had found that there was a whole world out there that wasn’t defined by good and evil. She certainly didn’t think of herself as evil. Giles did though. He had married, and was expecting his first child soon. Or so Reagan had written in her last letter. Giles was a sore topic with Buffy. He had refused to keep in touch with a Demon. He had agreed to keep her secret, that she was a Slayer turned Demon. He had merely passed on the news of Elizabeth Underwood’s death at the hands of the demon D’Hoffryn. Buffy imagined that there had been a collective sigh of relief from the surviving Watchers that night. But Buffy missed her Watcher. He was a father figure that she had learned to count on, and despite his propensity to deliver her into the clutches of her mortal enemies, she loved the man. The other being she kept in touch with was William. It was hard not to. His exploits as William the Bloody were legendary. He was a member of the Scourge. That alone brought fame. She had run into him in York, and again in Amsterdam. They had exchanged pleasantries, updating each other on items of interest in their lives. Sadly, this also meant that Buffy had to listen to William prattling on about the wonderfulness of Drusilla. “She isn’t so wonderful,” Buffy thought aloud, shaking out her new dress. Drusilla was a thorn in her side. Drusilla was why William wasn’t with her now. And oh how she wanted him. Buffy understood how the Scourge worked. Angelus, Childe of Darla, would never ever share his women with the fledge. William was hanging on the fringe, occasionally getting attention. He was Drusilla’s nursemaid, pet, and bed mate when Angelus was with Darla or grew tired of her. William had moved on from her and it hurt. Buffy sighed and began to unbutton her dress. Yes it was frustrating, but she didn’t have time to contemplate this now. She was going to meet Anyanka for dinner and some after dinner vengeance. Anyanka had found a man who was not only cheating on his wife, but was abusing his daughter as well. Miracle worker that she was, Anyanka had gotten invitations to the man’s house for a dinner party. Buffy marvelled at just how brilliant Anyanka was. __________________________________________ “We really must do this again sometime,” said Anyanka holding up a glass of champagne. All around them were the dead bodies of those that hadn’t run in fear. The man of the house, his mistress, his other mistress, the maid that he had a thing with on the side on top of all of that. In the corner of the room, the scorned wife was huddled with her daughter. “What a glorious mess,” continued Anyanka. “My work here is done.” “I really wish that they wouldn’t wish for such messy and ultimately short forms of vengeance though,” said Buffy, trying to wipe out a spot of blood off her glove. “Oh my dear Erixel, they are French, it’s all off with their head and stuff.” “Then I think I’ll go back to England, or maybe America, I’m sure that there are a lot of Vengeance opportunities in America,” said Buffy. “Sure there are,” said Anyanka putting her glass of champagne down. “But you won’t go, not until William goes.” Buffy turned to face her friend, a frown on her face. “What?” exclaimed Anyanka. “It’s true, isn’t it? You love him. You always have, and he’s a vampire. I don’t understand why you don’t do anything about it.” “I...” “Erixel, I admire your work ethic, but I think it’s time you took some time for yourself. Men are pigs, we have blood on our hands that proves it. But really, take William the Bloody to bed already and get him out of your system.” Buffy stared back at her friend, her brain contemplating what she had said. “I... I couldn’t do that,” said the former Slayer. “And why not?” Buffy exhaled before continuing. “Setting aside the fact that I’ve never done anything like that before...He...He doesn't love me anymore.” “He doesn’t have to love you,” said Anyanka, “Love is for the weak. Love is for her.” Anyanka pointed to the woman still cowering in the corner of the room. “You don’t want to be like her Erixel. Demons are better and you know it.” Buffy nodded. “I know it.” __________________________________________ Buffy tried to take Anyanka’s advice to heart. She knew that her friend was right about her. Even now, as they parted ways, Anyanka to Transylvania, something about wanting to meet Dracula, and Buffy to Rome to see some place new, Buffy didn’t know what to do about it. Buffy decided she wanted to see the countryside, so she took the train. Her luggage was packed, with new, non bloodstained dresses, fresh gloves, and the latest fashion hats. She set out, with her new lady’s maid, Annette, an orphan from one of those horrible orphanages that she cursed. Annette was small and dainty, and reminded her of her dead sister. The small girl didn’t know that her benefactress was a demon, but then it really wasn’t important, as long as the girl did what she was told and helped Buffy up with her corset every morning. The roads were quiet as they departed Buffy‘ fashionable apartment, still a few hours before dawn, Buffy hired a cab, heading towards La Gare du Nord. “Madame Erixel?” inquired Annette once they were in the cab. “Why to Rome? Why not to your own country? I should very much like to see England.” Buffy patted the girl’s head and stared out the window. “Because Anyanka is right as always,” Buffy admitted with a sigh. “William is in Rome.” “How do you know?” “Because, silly, my friend keeps tabs on him for me.” “Madame Anyanka?” “No, Madame Reagan.” __________________________________________ Buffy sat primly in the first class lounge debating on teleporting to Rome instead of waiting for the train to come. Teleporting would mean that Annette and all her stuff would have to travel on the train without her, and also revealing to Annette that she was not exactly human. That she really didn’t want to do. But she really hated sitting still. It reminded her too much of when she had been confined in that bed in the Watcher’s Council. Buffy began to fidget. Buffy wanted to do something, slay something. “Watch the bags,” ordered Buffy, casting a glance at Annette who was darning a sock or something and walked out onto the platform. The platform was dark, quiet, the only sounds coming from the coughs of other passengers who too had arrived early, and from the station staff who were moving trunks around. The million little things that humans did to prepare for a journey the she still did. In so many ways she was still a human, dressing like them, keeping their traditions and social norms. Anyanka refused to act as a human after a vengeance job was complete. She went back to Arashamahar or to be with some demon friends. Buffy’s only real demon friend was Anyanka. And William. Always William. Her thoughts turning to William didn’t really surprise her. They frequently did. However as she walked the platform she could see in the distance the very vampire she was thinking about. Walking directly in her direction, a bag over his shoulder. Suddenly, he stopped, grabbed a porter that had been working at that end of the platform and casting his bag aside for a moment, he sunk his fangs into the man’s neck. For a moment Buffy forgot to breathe as she watched William drink. Then just as suddenly, William cast the corpse aside, grabbed his bag and continued his path to the main part of the platform. Unconsciously, Buffy preened, tucking a stray hair back into place and biting down on her lips to make them appear redder. “The station staff usually don’t allow people to arrive from this direction,” said Buffy as he walked closer towards the platform. Without giving her another glance, William flashed Buffy some fang before continuing on his way, onto the platform and past her. “Oh no you don’t,” said Buffy hiking her skirts a bit and following after him. “William Fairchilde you come back here this instant.” His real name ringing through the station, William turned to face the woman he had thought merely another silly bint. “Cecily?” he inquired, pushing his wavy brown curls out of his eyes. “It’s good to see you William,” she said with a bob of a curtsey. “Demon now pet, you don’t have to go on with the human platitudes.” His eyes raked over her, taking in the little changes that she’d acquired since their last meeting. “Perhaps not, but they are familiar. I like the familiar.” “Why are you in Paris then?” he asked setting down his bag with a thump. “Business, you?” “Angelus.” Buffy nodded. “Can’t stand the wanker anymore though, not without Dru to be a buffer. Just me and him, he’s a buggering git, and if he weren’t my grandsire...” “Yes?” asked Buffy, eagerly awaiting a vengeance wish against the vampire that killed her father. But William stopped. “You won’t get me there pet, hard as you try. I’ve heard about your work. Good stuff too, reminds me of my fledgling days.” “You still are a fledgling William,” she reminded him with a tiny smirk. “No, I’m not, only a fledge until your Sire decides you can get on without them. Drusilla’s not even in Paris I’ll have you know.” “Really?” Buffy asked with interest. “Ya, Darla and Dru up and left for Rome two weeks ago, leaving me with Peaches.” “Are you on your way to Rome then?” she asked. “To get away from Angelus?” “Ya, heard Dru took up with the Immortal...I’m going there to get her back.” “William...” said Buffy sadly. “I’m going by Spike now.” “Spike.” Buffy smiled. “Why would you want to go back to Drusilla if she’s taken up with another man?” Spike exhaled. “The ponce doesn’t love her, like I do, he’ll only grown tired of her, and then cast her aside.” “Like she cast you aside?” Spike was quiet for a bit, then smiled. “I see what you’re doing. It’s not going to work.” “And what am I doing Spike?” Buffy asked. Buffy walked closer to the vampire, and ran her hand down his arm. “Cecily...” he growled, warning her off. “Not Cecily, Spike.” “Buffy...” Buffy smiled. “Would it be so bad, Spike, to indulge in something both demons and humans find so pleasurable? Drusilla’s cheating on you, couldn’t you cheat on her for a change. I bet you don’t get any attention at all when Angelus is around.” Buffy let her hand explore lower on his body, cupping the bulge in his trousers before taking his hand and placing it on her breast. “Bloody hell woman.” Buffy laughed. “Not interested?” she asked, pulling away from him, only to have her hand caught by his forceful grip. “I’m interested,” said the vampire, pulling her close and sniffing at her neck. “Demon, Spike, I don’t taste good.” She surprised herself with the sudden sultriness of her voice. “How do you know?” he asked. “I’ve never had a Vengeance Demon before.” Spike licked a long slick trail from her ear lobe down to the top of the high lace collar of her dress. “I’ve never had a Vampire before,” she added, earning a surprised look from Spike. He looked like he was searching her eyes for something. Buffy stared back at him with equal intensity. “I’m going to today though,” she whispered into his ear before biting down gently on his lobe, causing a growl from the vamp. Buffy took Spike’s hand and led him away from the side of the platform. Suddenly before her there was a black portal through which she walked, leading Spike along. As soon as they were through, the portal closed, leaving only burn marks on the pavement of the platform. __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #6 - The Right Thing, for all the Wrong Reasons

Disclaimer: Joss owns them all, I’m only having fun. Author’s note: Once more, thanks go out to the fab BTL for the beta-ing. Thanks to everyone who’s been reviewing, feedback makes me type faster. __________________________________________ Chapter 6: The Right Thing, for all the Wrong Reasons Buffy could smell the burnt odour from the portal closing and then the overwhelming and familiar scent of her unused lair in Arashamahar. She didn’t often return here, only when D’Hoffryn summoned her. “I think you’re the only vampire to have actually been in Arashamahar, Spike,” she smiled up at him, lust in her eyes. “Brought me to you demon lair, did you?” he asked, curling his tongue behind his teeth. “I did, to have my naughty way with you,” she purred. Spike growled, and lifted her skirts. Buffy lifted her leg to give him easier access, sharply inhaling as she felt his cold fingers trace up her bare thigh above her stocking. There was something to be said for skirts after all, she thought. Spike grabbed her ass, lifting her up and against his rather obvious interest in the situation. His lips on her neck, they stumbled towards the bed. Landing roughly on her back, Spike making furious work of getting her out of her dress. Running her hands through his wavy brown locks, she allowed herself a moment of rational thought. Which was hard when he was sliding his hands up and down her stocking clad legs. She wanted him, yes this much was true. She still loved him too, but the fact remained that underlying all the lust and the raw need to couple, he didn’t love her anymore. She very much wanted to crush Drusilla into a little ball of dust and sweep her under the carpet. The sad reality was that, after William had taken from her what she was saving for him, and him alone, he would go back to his Sire, leaving her alone with her vengeance. Her lips found his, and rational thought was squashed. Their tongues duelled each seeking dominance over the other. This wasn’t a coupling of lovers; this was the frantic union of two demons seeking revenge. And revenge was just what business Buffy was in nowadays. Buffy felt the pop of buttons, as Spike tore her dress, the seams giving way from the back. In one fluid motion she had been left in her corset and stockings. And it turned her on. “God, Buffy...” he gasped looking upon her disrobed state. “There was a time when I dreamed about this moment.” And now? she thought but didn‘t voice the question for fear of what the answer might be. Buffy dug her nails into his shirt and pulled it back, revealing his alabaster chest, complete with pectorals that just begged for her lips’ caress. Sliding her hands over his shoulders, Buffy pushed his shirt down and leaned forward, letting her tongue trace a slick trail from his neck to his right nipple and back again. Spike groaned in appreciation of her administrations. With a twist of his fingers, her knickers lay ripped at the foot of the bed. Buffy gasped as she felt his nimble fingers feather along her weeping slit. “Right wet you are for me too, Buffy. Been waiting long for this have ya now?” he teased. Buffy nodded, her tongue in his ear. “I think you like teasing me, Spike. Be the vampire I know you are and take me.” Buffy clenched her legs around him and bit down on his lip with her blunt human teeth. “I wonder how you taste pet,” said the vampire, spreading her legs and making his way to her molten core, nibbling along her thigh. Buffy gasped again as his tongue made long licks along her slit, circling her clit. She had never thought that sex would feel this way. Though she would never admit it to Anyanka, Buffy was still a virgin. It was expected of a woman in her station, purity until marriage. It had taken Buffy a while but she had finally realised that not only did Anyanka come from a different culture than Buffy’s socially conscious British heritage, but that she had been definitely of a different class. But this wasn’t the time to be thinking of class differences, or Anyanka for that matter. The attentions of William to her nether regions was much more distracting. Quickly he poked his tongue in and out of her quim, causing a whimper of pleasure to come from the demon’s mouth. “Oh Spike,” she moaned, digging her fingernails in to the linens on the bed, supporting their exploits. Swiftly, he replaced his tongue with his fingers and crept up the length of her body once more. She felt a tug, and heard the sound of fabric sliding down legs. Buffy tried to form a mental picture of her William with out a stitch of clothing on. As it was, with her on her back, she could only see his flawless upper body. With a hard yank, Spike pulled Buffy towards him and positioned himself at her entrance. Buffy shook with nervousness but gave a slight nod of her head, assent for what was to come next. Slowly, as if he knew that this was her first time, he slid into her taking great care not to hurt her. The feeling of him filling her felt so right, like he was the perfect size to fill that particular chasm within her. Slowly, Buffy started rocking back against him, his fingers digging into her hips and her garter belt that she was still wearing. The sensations were wondrous, and she suddenly felt like nothing in this dimension or on earth had prepared her for this experience. “Buffy, god, you are so hot, tight quim,” said her lover as he began pounding into her harder and harder. He supposed that since it was her first time that he should be gentle, but, another voice in his head said to him, she’s a demon now, she can take it. That thought was pushed to the back of his brain as he realised exactly what he had done, the demon in him rejoicing that he had had her first. The man in him trembled at the fact. She had saved herself for him. It struck a chord so deep. He had envisioned this moment for a long time, all throughout his desperate courting of his Cecily. The early morning romp had started as a way to get back at Drusilla: he had thought it was good reason. Now as Cecily’s...no Buffy’s walls milked his manhood for all it was worth, he wondered how he had fallen out of love with her so quickly. Her cute moans and mews caused him to step up his rhythm of his thrusts. She was beautiful as she had ever been. Like him she would never age. She was his first love, and she had ripped out his heart, stomped on it, then begged his forgiveness. It was hard to think of her transgressions while he was buried in her hot pussy, or the reason why he hadn’t done this in all the years they had been casually bumping into each other. “I thought you wanted to taste me?” she asked coyly, her hands now grasping at the headboard of the bed. Spike growled and smiled, bringing his vampire features out to play. Buffy smiled at his transformation. He leaned his head down, still relentlessly pounding into her, and slipped his fangs into her unblemished neck. Buffy screamed at the pleasurable feeling of him sucking away her blood. She had barely felt the puncture of his fangs in her skin, but the pulling on her blood had brought her to orgasm, something that before now she had only heard about from Anyanka. “Spike!” she screamed, her voice echoing off the stone walls of her lair. He followed her within moments, her blood painting his lips. He rolled off of her, licking his lips and making smacking noises. “Doesn’t taste quite like I thought it would,” he noted to the ceiling. “Not bad mind you, but not something to write home about.” Buffy rolled over and placed her hand on her lover’s bare alabaster chest. “I told you I wouldn’t taste good, demon after all,” she said with a smile. “You did warn me,” he conceded. There was a pause. The awkwardness of what they had just done filled the room. “The train, Spike.” “Sod the bloody train, you can teleport...”said the vampire rolling over to cover his body with hers once more, thinking he should take advantage of this most pleasant situation. Buffy let out a giggle. “Are you saying that you enjoyed your time in Arashamahar then?” she asked, tracing the contours of his face with her index finger. “Wasn’t bad, wouldn’t mind having another go.” Buffy could feel that what he said was true. His manly member was making its presence known along her thigh. Buffy moaned in pleasure as he started kissing her neck again, pushing her pendant out of the way. “Such a pretty neck, Buffy, too pretty to be hidden under this gawdy thing,” he said as he lifted the pendant off her skin. In a flash, Buffy’s fingers were covering his. “It’s what keeps me a demon Spike. Remove that and I go back to being what I was.” “And what were you pet?” he asked with a glint in his eye. “A Slayer, a girl that was forced to break the heart of someone she loved.” Spike rolled off of her once more, and reached for his trousers. Buffy sat up, knowing she‘d said the wrong thing. “Spike...William?” “Just leave it,” he barked, sliding his trousers up over his legs. Buffy scooted off the bed and found a new dress in her closet. “I didn’t ask you to love me back you know. I was just stating a fact that we keep dancing around.” “I don’t love you anymore Cecily.” “I know that William. You love her, Drusilla, the one that’s off with the Immortal right now, probably screaming his name out in ecstasy.” Spike let out a growl. “You shut your trap about her! You sent me into her arms, she made me what I am now.” “You think I don’t know that?” she wailed. “You think I don’t wish that I could grant my own wishes and wish that this had never happened, that I had run away with you, the Council be damned. We would have been on the run, but we would have been happy.” Spike snorted. “No,” said Buffy, sinking to her knees in front of the trouser clad vampire. “William, those things I said, they were cruel, and I’m so very sorry. Every time I see you, I tell you I am sorry because I truly am. And if I have to grovel at your feet for all eternity, I will. I’ve lost my chance with you. I did that when I stepped on your heart in Mrs. Sinclair’s parlour. I know that. It doesn't make me happy. But you have to believe that at the time, I thought it was the right thing to do. I was trying to protect you.” “From Angelus,” he murmured. “From Angelus,” she confirmed. “Who is right now waiting for me on that soddin’ train to Rome.” Buffy nodded. The train. Rome, and his return to Drusilla. Buffy stood up and set about restoring her clothing and hair into a style that was presentable to the public. She turned from her mirror to see that Spike had found his shirt and it wasn’t too damaged. “Ready?” she asked. He nodded and she grabbed his hand and led him through the portal that instantly appeared before her. __________________________________________ With the smell of smoke filling the air around them, Buffy and Spike reappeared on the train platform metres from where they had left it. The platform was crowded now, and the train was sitting on the tracks and boarding. “Madame Erixel!” called Annette at the other end of the platform. The hiss of the train and the mêlée of passengers trying to get on the train made having a conversation impossible. “Will I see you on the train?” asked Buffy, holding his hand even tighter. “You will,” said the vampire, relinquishing her hand and fading into the crowd that surrounded them. “Madame Erixel!” called Annette again, this time she had spotted her employer and was running towards her. “Madame, the trunks, they are on the train, and here is your bag. We must board the train, or it will leave without us!” Buffy nodded and let the girl lead her to her first class seat. __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #7 - Unmet Expectations

Disclaimer: The Characters of BTVS and ATS are the property of Joss Whedon and various other people/entities. I am only using them for fun and entertainment only. This is the sad reality that hits me when I wake up from my naked Spike filled dreams. Author’s note: Thanks again to the fab Bloodytearsoflife who beta’d and came up with the chapter title when I’d seriously had drawn a blank. __________________________________________ Chapter 7: Unmet Expectations Buffy settled down into her first class cabin unsure of her own feelings. Somewhere on this train, Spike was probably sneaking aboard. She had done what Anyanka had suggested, it hadn’t worked. But she hadn’t really expected it to either. Annette hadn’t noticed the change of dress. Or just refused to mention it. One of these days she was going to have to explain to Annette exactly what she was. She just hoped that it could be done with a minimal amount of screaming and fainting. Buffy tugged at her high lace collar. It was scratching against her bite marks. His bite marks. It wasn’t making love or any of that romantic stuff that you read about in novels. In truth she likened it to rutting like animals. But that’s what they were right? Demons driven to passion. She wanted it to be so much more than that though. “Madame? Have you ever been to Rome?” asked Annette, getting out her darning. Buffy shook her head. No she had not been to Rome. She supposed she should have been in the course of her few years as a Vengeance Demon, but she had not. More interested in stalking her William than doing Vengeance. Not that she hadn’t given D’Hoffryn his quota for each month. Vengeance was turning out to be a sad thing to live on. As the train started to move, and Paris seemed to glide away to reveal early morning French countryside, Buffy tried to make sense of what her life had become. It all came back to the fact that she had been a Slayer. Cursing the day that Giles had told her and her parents for what she was destined, seemed to bring her out of her depression a little. Well, that, and Spike’s appearance at the door to her compartment. “Posh, pet,” were his opening words. Spike tossed his bag down on the vacant seat in front of Annette and took an appreciative leer at Buffy, seated against the window. “This is a private cabin, monsieur,” said Annette angrily, standing up. “Madame does not wish to be disturbed by the likes of you!” Spike started to chuckle at the fiery nature of this little one who was defending her mistress so resolutely. “I have disturbed Madame a great deal already today, nibblet. And I’ll go right on disturbing Madame,” said Spike with a smirk. “Annette...” said Buffy in a warning to her maid. “Madame Erixel! This...ruffian is disturbing you!” protested Annette again. “No, Annette, he is not. Annette, I’d like you to meet Mr. William,” said Buffy with a smile on her face. “Oh!” the girl’s face lit up at last putting a face to the name that captured her mistress’ attentions. “I most humbly beg your pardon then Monsieur William. It is truly a pleasure to meet you.” With a small curtsey, Annette took up her darning again and sat down as if nothing was amiss. Buffy suppressed a laugh, allowing the tiniest of smiles to grace her lips for the briefest of moments. “Well, pet, did you not ask to see me on the train?” asked Spike. “I did. I had not anticipated it so early in the journey.” “I don’t fancy sitting in the cold luggage car when I could be sitting in the lap of luxury, or doing other things in said lap.” Buffy blushed. “You are more than welcome to share my compartment with Annette and I, William. However, I must say that should the conductor come and ask for your ticket, you are going to be left without any help from me.” Spike sat down beside Buffy, and put his legs up on the facing seat. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been left to my own devices where Angelus is concerned, pet. Poncy bugger.” Buffy nodded. “And where is your Grandsire Spike?” “I don’t rightly know. On this train, somewhere. Probably defiling a nun or some such thing. Wanker.” “Because you would never defile a nun...” Spike looked at her aghast. “I bloody well would not. I’m evil pet, not sadistic. How many nuns have you killed then?” Buffy stole a brief glance at Annette who was happily darning socks. “Oh is that how it is then? The little one doesn’t know what you are?” “Oh I know what Madame Erixel is monsieur. She is a Vengeance Demon, like Madame Anyanka and you are a Vampire.” “Since when did you come to that conclusion?” asked an astounded Buffy. Annette gave Buffy a coy smile. “Since you took me from the orphanage.” “Well you should have told me! I’ve been avoiding teleporting in front of you for ages!” Annette laughed. “I like you, Bit,” said Spike, “Got an evil streak in you. So what’s the total nun deaths then, just curious...” “A lady does not reveal her body count, Spike,” protested Buffy. “And who told you that?” asked the vampire with a leer. “Anyanka.” “The great Anyanka has been giving you tips on the way ladies behave? That’s rich.” “Anyanka is a great lady,” said Buffy defending her friend. “I heard she was a peasant!” “I don’t believe you, William, how can you judge? You certainly don’t live life like you did when you were human. Hiding in luggage cars? Like a common tramp?” Spike’s brow darkened. “Got to be careful how and when I touch my money, pet, the poof and the whore like to spend money like there is no tomorrow. You and I know different though, don’t we?” Buffy nodded, suddenly far too aware of the fact that his lips were only inches from hers and that if she dared, she could kiss him. Her reverie was interrupted though, by the sound of a body, thumping up against the compartment door. The three occupants of the compartment turned to look at the source of the thump. The conductor was slowly sliding down the glass, blood trickling from his nose and mouth, the blood painting a brilliant trail of red down the glass, puddling on the floor. As the unfortunate man slid to the floor, Buffy found herself looking at the conductor’s murderer. Angelus was looking directly at them. Buffy was up in an instant. “Annette, stand up!” ordered Buffy. The confused little girl stood, clutching her darning to her chest. “Madame?” she whispered in a scared voice. Buffy grabbed Annette’s hand and twisted so that the child was looking at her and not Angelus. “I’m sending you somewhere. Don’t be frightened. Don’t move from that room. Do you understand?” Annette nodded, then gasped in shock as Buffy opened a portal and pushed Annette through it. “That’s the Slayer I know and love, then,” came Angelus’ accented voice. “Saving the wee ones and then facing me yourself. It’s touching really. I’ve missed you Slayer.” “Not a Slayer anymore Angelus,” quipped the former Slayer. “From what I hear, the real Slayer is some girl in Russia.” “Oh not for me, lass,” cooed the Master Vampire. “Oh isn’t that touching?” replied Buffy sarcastically. “What do you want, Angelus? There’s no one for you to eat here...” “Oh not now is there? You sent the tasty morsel away. There’s still you though. I wonder what one of Arashamahar’s beauties taste like?” “You won’t be finding out Angelus,” said Buffy at once. “Ever.” Angelus raised a hand to his chest. “Oh, that cuts me to the quick Elizabeth. After all these years, my Slayer doesn’t appreciate my attention.” “I was never your Slayer Angelus,” said Buffy, crossing her arms. Angelus ignored her comment. “And what does wee William think of all this? You knew her when you were a human didn’t you? What do you think of her now that she’s a demon? Not quite so pure and virginal is she? Does it bother you that I had her first boy?” Spike gritted his teeth but said nothing, he was already accustomed to Angelus’ taunting by now. “You never had me, Angelus. And you know it,” Buffy snapped back at him. Angelus stepped forward towards the former Slayer. “Your pretty little mouth tells lies, Elizabeth. Your body knows different.” His eyes travelled up and down her body and for once Buffy was glad the dress she was wearing was English designed and not French, her cleavage contained by the high collar of her Victoria travelling dress. Buffy couldn’t help it anymore, she started to laugh. “What a joke!” she spat. “Given the fact that this whole taunting session is for the benefit of Spike, I do not believe that you would seriously continue with this whole charade! You have not had me, I do not lie, and Spike here knows that I am not lying, Angelus.” “And how does he know?” whispered Angelus. And evil smile crept over Buffy’s face. As much fun as it would be to tell Angelus that she had had known Spike carnally, the ramifications for Spike would be horrendous. She didn’t want to imagine the beating Spike would get from his Grandsire. “He knows Angelus, because William knows me better than any other vampire risen,” she said with a gleam in her eye. She saw Spike relax, and casually sit down next to the window in Annette‘s seat. The blind was drawn on that side and the sun coming from the other side of the train. She had no fears of his bursting in to flame. “I hope you eating the conductor didn’t have any effect on the speed of the train, I really do want to get to Rome...” Buffy added nonchalantly. “Found the frog defiling some young lass in the loo...” “And you just had to have what he was having...” Buffy rolled her eyes in disgust. “I wonder how Darla puts up with all your philandering? Oh wait that’s right, she’s in Rome with the Immortal.” “My whore of a Sire, she’s a special one isn’t she William? She wouldn’t mind if I took the whole Russian ballet to bed with me as long as I returned to her when she called. Just like she wouldn’t mind if I took a pretty Vengeance Demon to bed with me on this train...” “Oh, ewww. I’ve not heard a more vile proposition since... well ever, actually. I’m sure you can find more easily coerced ladies on this train, Angelus. This lady is not.” Spike laughed. There was a commotion in the hallway, some passengers had discovered the bodies of the conductor and the girl. There was a knock on her door just as it swung open. “Madame, there is a dangerous criminal on the train, and a body outside your door,” said the voice of another conductor, this one toting a gun. “Oh yes, conductor, I know, for this man,” Buffy pointed at Angelus, “He is the murderer!” Buffy smiled sickly sweet at the master vampire. The conductor raised his gun at Angelus. “Monsieur, you are under arrest!” Angelus rolled his eyes. “You are starting to get on my nerves,” said Angelus to Buffy. “Yes, that maybe, however if he shoots you, it will still hurt. Besides, won’t it be more thrilling to have a captive audience elsewhere? I expect that after a while our conversation would have revolved around the same topics. Please, Monsieur Conductor, take him away. He is greatly disturbing the journey my brother and I are taking on your train.” Spike perked up when Buffy said that he was her brother. “Your brother?” asked Angelus. “Come with me Monsieur,” motioned the conductor. Angelus followed, no wanting a large whole shot through him, or his fancy clothes wrecked. “Your brother?” asked Spike once Angelus was safely out of the hearing range, and the shots and screaming rang out through the corridors of the train. “It popped into my head,” she shrugged. “How long do you think you will stay in Rome?” he asked, picking at a stray thread on his shirt. “I don’t know, it depends on where Anyanka will want me next. What about you? After you rescue Drusilla and Darla from the evil clutches of the Immortal, where will you go?” “Is up to Angelus and Darla really.” Buffy nodded. “Why do you stay with them, if they treat you so badly?” Spike exhaled. “They are family pet, I belong with them.” “I wish you didn’t belong with them at all.” “We’ve had this conversation pet.” “I know.” There was a pause in the cabin. Each demon refused to look at the other. At that moment, the train lurched, sending the unprepared demon sprawling on top of Spike. There was a silence that filled the cabin as Buffy unavoidably caught his blue eyes and gave him an apologetic look. His arms felt so good around her. Putting her hands out to steady herself, she accidentally brushed his manhood. She blushed, but then went white as he stiffened around her, and not in a good way. Spike lifted her prone form off of his body and set her down up on the seat that he had once occupied, resuming a standing position in the middle of the cabin himself. “Well I’d best find out what the wanker’s gotten himself into, no doubt the git is full of bloody holes. We’ll have to hide in some farm house whilst he heals up.” “Spike...” Buffy started only to be interrupted. “Best go and find your little maid then, the bit’s probably out of her mind.” “Annette!” Buffy stood up and was about to open a portal when she realised something. “You won’t be here when I return will you?” “No,” he answered quietly. Buffy nodded. “I will see you around though, no doubt.” “No doubt.” “If you ever need...” “I know just who to call for, pet. Makes me feel right powerful, knowin’ I have a bloody Vengeance Demon who’ll come runnin’ if ever I need her,” he said, cocking his eye brow up implying innuendo. Buffy smiled. “It’s true,” she whispered. Buffy turned and opened a portal where she had before and slipped in, casting a longing look at William before it closed. __________________________________________ Buffy entered her lair to find Annette curled up on her bed, which had been made. The little brunette was just so cute sleeping in the soft covers that Buffy had to stop a moment and gaze at the scene. “Madame?” said Annette sleepily. “Is it time to go back to the train?” Buffy nodded and held out her hand for the little girl to hold. Annette scooted off the bed and held on tight to Buffy’s hand. “Will I get to see Monsieur William again?” asked Annette. “Someday Annette, someday.” __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #8 - If Wishes were Vampires

Disclaimer: The Characters of BTVS and ATS are the property of Joss Whedon and various other people/entities. I am only using them for fun and entertainment only. This is the sad reality that hits me when I wake up from my naked Spike filled dreams. Author’s note: Once again hugs to my fabulous Beta, BTL who tried to add a tid bit of hope to this rather angsty chapter. __________________________________________ Chapter 8: If Wishes were Vampires “Tell me about The Immortal,” Buffy requested of Anyanka as they walked down the corridor, to D’Hoffryn’s audience chamber. “What’s to tell? He’s a menace, thinks he’s all high and mighty, because he did the gods a favour once upon a time and they granted him immortality.” Anyanka waved her hands about as she talked, the flick of her wrist telling Buffy it was nothing great. It got Buffy wondering exactly what the Immortal had done to merit such a gift. “You know him?” Buffy asked. “I’ve met him on occasion, it’s hard not bumping into him while in Rome, he tends to have his fingers in pies that aren’t his business.” Buffy nodded. Since she had heard about the Immortal and his connection to Spike, she desired to know everything about him. And more importantly if he could really make Drusilla abandon Spike. “You are still thinking about your vampire!” Anyanka cried out. “Erixel! I thought I told you to take him to bed and get him out of your mind!” “You did,” Buffy conceded. But it didn’t work, she mentally added. “And?” she prompted. “Did you?” Buffy looked into the eyes of her friend and lied. “No, Anyanka.” “Trust me, once you do it, it will be over and done with. You’ll thank me,” the older demon added with a tiny pat on Buffy’s back. The had reached the entrance to D’Hoffryn’s chamber and pushed open the door. “D’Hoffryn!” Anyanka greeted. “I hope this staff meeting is short, I postponed some truly ingenious plans for this event,” Anyanka commented, turning every demon’s attention towards her. __________________________________________ Buffy returned from her monthly staff meeting with D’Hoffryn to find Annette waiting patiently in her Rome apartment. Her monthly quota had been upped, again. She only hoped that the Italian people had more ingenious ideas about vengeance than the French. She was tired of coming home with blood on her clothes. After sending the girl on an errand to fetch some gloves, for Buffy was in constant need of new gloves, the former Slayer sat down at the small desk situated in front of her bedroom window and sighed. She had been held at the train station while the authorities discussed the nature of the killings. Spike, nor Angelus had been found on the train. This did, however, give her time to do some impromptu vengeance wishes for some of the passengers that were scattered about the station. Annette had looked on in wonder as Buffy’s demon face was brought to the fore each time she said that the wish had been granted. She wished that Annette wasn’t so fascinated by her demon side. Buffy took out a slip of paper from her desk and began to write out a letter. Reagan had to be informed of her new address, though she didn’t know how long she was going to be here. It all depended on how long William stayed in Rome with his family. Buffy scoffed. His family, she thought bitterly. His family that tortures him, that doesn’t appreciate him, that is intent on turning him into a monster. A family that he’d rather stay with than with you, she had to tell herself. Staring out into the grimy street Buffy suddenly felt very dirty. She had given herself to William for the most idiotic of reasons, to get over him. To use him, which was what Anyanka thought all men were good for. She had to come to the realisation that there was no hope of her falling out of love with him. She just had to find a way to keep the fact of him from interfering with her life. Buffy shook her head and extolling her problems to Reagan on paper. Explaining all of her William related woes to Reagan usually did a world of good for her heart. “Madame!” squealed Annette’s voice gleefully from the hallway. Reluctantly, Buffy put down her pen and turned in her seat, just in time to see Annette enter the room, papers fluttering in her hand while the girl clutched a package wrapped in brown paper. “Madame! I have here a list of all the orphanages in the area, and your new gloves.” Annette smiled up at her mistress expectantly. Buffy smiled softly and petted the girl’s head. She was so eager to please and so completely unprepared for what this life was like. __________________________________________ Enjoying the calm night air, Buffy set about gathering information for her next large scale infiltration. Her specialty was orphans, mainly because she was one. She had tried schools but it seemed that the orphanages had the most abuse occurring within their walls. This particular one was for girls, and run by the church. No novelty there. Buffy looked up at the solid stone walls and shuddered. It was so much like the Watcher’s Council it made her stomach queasy. She pressed on despite her sick feeling, her need for information winning out. There were things every Vengeance Demon needed to know before entering a site, like what to wear. This orphanage looked pretty strict, she didn’t know if she could just walk in off the street and see the children or whether she had to be given a referral by a priest. Maybe she should just forget the whole thing and pretend to be a nun. Pretend to be a nun. That brought back memories. William memories. So what’s the total nun deaths then, just curious...” “A lady does not reveal her body count, Spike.” No! Bad brain! Thinking about William, unproductive! Buffy tried to convince herself. Buffy hiked her skirts up to ascend the stairs when something shiny caught her eye. In the street was a man, he had an air of confidence about him and at once Buffy knew that this was the Immortal she had heard so much about. He was flipping a coin in his hand, which was catching the moonlight. Buffy stopped what she was doing and trod down the steps heading in his direction. “You are new,” he said plainly, a hint of an accent. “How old are you, demon?” Buffy scoffed. “A lady does not reveal her age sir. Whatever your impressive heritage maybe, you will not find me so easily manipulated.” “Elevated when you were seventeen?” he stated, slowly beginning to circle her. “Yes,” she answered, though she really didn’t see the need for her to answer, his eyes telling her he knew more than what he was saying. “You are young then. Aurelius is interested in you...Can’t think why...Perhaps they see something in you others cannot. Must be a vampire thing.” His hand brushed a ringlet of her blond hair to the side of her face before looking into her green eyes. Buffy shivered. It was as if he was looking right through her. “If you are talking about the Order of Aurelius, I know of only two vampires from that line who have anything to do with me.” “You were a Slayer,” he continued on, his eyes scanning her face. “If you knew all of this before you met me, why, pray tell are you stating the obvious?” Buffy asked with a raised eyebrow. The Immortal simply chose to ignore her question, posing one of his own. “Do you like to annoy those who are more powerful than yourself?” Buffy smiled. “Are you going to tell me to get out of your city? The high and mighty Immortal lowers himself to tell a simple and young Vengeance Demon to get out of his city?” “No.” “No?” she asked confused. “I wanted to see what they saw in you.” “Saw? Past tense?” Buffy’s voice was laden with fear. “No need to worry, dear demon.” He reached up to brush her cheek, but Buffy pulled back. “William the Bloody and Angelus are perfectly alright, still undead. I only was curious. Angelus speaks of you as his own.” “I am not his,” she snapped. “No, you belong to someone else.” The immortal reached up to Buffy’s neck, pulling down the lace collar to reveal Spike’s healed bite marks. Buffy’s hand flew to her neck. “How did you know?” she asked. “I think it’s quite interesting that a Vengeance Demon, so highly feared, would allow herself to be marked by a vampire, a half breed.” Buffy raised her head up higher, not allowing the Immortal to see inside her cleverly made up façade of Erixel the Vengeance Demon. “You are proud of his marks. I apologise, I had no idea you were so in love with this creature, this thing that is so far beneath you.” “You're nothing to me, William. You're beneath me.” Her own words thundered in her head. “Is there any point to this?” Buffy asked disdainfully. “The point, young demon, is that I have now seen what they find so appealing. We shall meet again.,” he promised, grabbing her hand and pressing a kiss to it before she could pull back. And with that he turned and walked away. Well at least I can tell Anyanka that I’ve met the Immortal,thought Buffy as she climbed the steps of the orphanage once more. __________________________________________ In the end Buffy managed to get into the orphanage without a referral by a priest, or in a nun’s habit. The nuns had been more than happy to let Buffy walk around the orphanage and talk to the girls in the dormitory. She suspected that they wanted her to adopt more than one. Buffy sat at the bed of one of the little girls, her blond hair freshly washed. The girl, Antonia, had been telling her a fantastic tale of how she was forced to wash the shit out of the baby’s nappies because the nuns were cruel and unjust. Buffy nodded in understanding. “You know what I would wish?” said the little girl, Buffy listening attentively. “I would wish that something would come and scare the nuns so badly that they would crap in their pants and have to wash it out. Maybe Vampires.” Antonia laughed at the thought of vampires. Buffy laughed too. She had the perfect vampires for the job. “Wish granted,” said Buffy shifting into her demon face for a moment. “I certainly hope that this makes you learn the phase be careful what you wish for.” Antonia screamed and fainted dead away at Buffy’s face. With a laugh and a smile, Buffy flicked her wrist, making the Scourge of Europe appear in the dormitory. “What the bloody buggering hell is this?” came Spike’s voice. “Where are we?” asked the loony Drusilla in her fairy like voice. The older members of the family directed their attention to the cause of their teleportation. “You!” spat Darla, her vamp bumpies coming out. Buffy smiled right back at the blond vampire. “Yes, me. Hello Darla,” said Buffy pleasantly. “Why’d ya bring us here?” asked Angelus. “Business,” she said. “Nothing more,” she stated, staring Angelus straight in the eye. “ A vengeance wish, you are to terrorize these nuns.” “We don’t follow your orders, Slayer!” barked Darla. Buffy rolled her eyes. “So don’t follow my orders then. Perhaps you’d like to take advantage of the situation that I’ve put you in? You are in an orphanage, in the daylight, with dozens of people helpless and afraid. What do you normally do in this situation?” Buffy asked. “Can you smell it daddy, they’re all afraid of us and the Slayer Demon,” whispered Drusilla into Angelus’ ear as Spike stared on with anger. “And look, Daddy! Nuns! Like I was! You like the way they taste.” “It’s up to you, you are free to go and do as you please. The wish was for vampires to come and terrorise, nothing more, I think you’ve accomplished your task,” said Buffy, standing up from her seat on the bed, and turning to exit the dormitory. There were other floors to visit. “Where the bleeding hell are you going?” asked Spike, putting his hand on her elbow. “I have things to do. Unlike you, I have a job to do,” she retorted, using indifference to cover up her true feelings. “You can tell me why you brought us here...” Spike looked her in the eye, his blue depths searching her own. “It isn’t my fault that the child asked for vampires. You and the rest were the first ones I thought of. I could have chosen any vampire to carry out this task. Consider yourself fortunate that I thought of you. And this way you can add to your body count, nun wise.” Buffy dislodged his hand from her elbow and headed out the door into the hallway and up the stairs. She clenched her fists in frustration at him. This wasn’t about him. Ok, I’m really trying to convince myself it isn’t about him, she thought. The next floor up she found another dormitory of children, older, about Annette’s age. A nun in the corner was attempting to lead a lesson about how young ladies should act. “Can I help you miss?” asked the nun. “Oh Sister, I beg your pardon for interrupting your lesson. Mother Superior said that I might meet some of the children. I am thinking about adopting...” The sister smiled and beckoned her further into the room. With confidence, Buffy approached, only to stop when the nun’s face turned from warm welcome to panicked. Buffy turned to look behind her to find that Spike had followed her up the stairs. “You were supposed to wait down stairs!” Buffy hissed. Spike wasn’t in game face, but it was clear that this was a girl’s only institution and the presence of man was shocking indeed. “I bloody well will not!” he protested. Buffy smiled apologetically at the sister and led Spike back to the doorway. “Spike! I can’t have you in here!” Buffy let go of Spike’s arm and closed the door behind her. Spike frowned as she released his arm, telling himself that the empty feeling was only because the smell of fear was blocked, not because she let go of him. His anger for even thinking it causing him to snap at her. “Oh afraid I’ll muck up your pretty plans? Bloodshed and exploding entrails? I’m up for a fun time.” Buffy exhaled deeply. “It doesn’t work that way, I have to get the wish out of the child first! With you here I won’t get a bloody thing out of the children! Go back to your sire and do whatever it is that you were put on this earth to do!” she said with no little venom in her voice. She was so angry. “That’s right, was put on this green earth to get my heart ripped out by a sweet looking girl who pretended to like me, so that I could get turned by my dark princess and kill nuns. I get it,” he said solemnly. Buffy cringed. “Oh god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.” “Just how did you mean it?” Spike waited for her to respond and Buffy stared at him unable to formulate a response. “It seems to me pet, that you are rather intent on trying to make yourself mad at me, for what reason, I don’t know.” “You don’t know?” said Buffy incredulously before she could bite her tongue. “I see it now,” he said, catching her chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting her pouting face upwards to face him. “Regret what happened pet?” “Never,” she said with a hardness setting in behind her eyes. “You knew I’d go back to her afterwards,” he said quietly, his lips a bare whisper from hers. “I did,” she said firmly. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Buffy jerked her chin out of his grasp and headed out of the dormitory and down the stairs. She had to get out of there before she started crying. Her little feet carried her further and further away from him, but her tears came closer and closer to the surface. “Buffy!” he called after her. He could smell the salt from the tears that were begging to fall from her eyes. Buffy had reached the main door of the building and was standing in a patch of sunlight where he could not follow. He hovered near the edge, watching her intently. Buffy breathed in deeply and turned slowly to face him. “Go back to Drusilla, Spike.” __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #9 - More than you Bargained for

Disclaimer: Pixies told me that I really don’t own Btvs, it’s sad but the Pixies, they don’t lie. Author’s note: Thanks to the fab BTL for the beta job and the chapter title, when I serious was drawing yet another blank. __________________________________________ Chapter 9: More than you Bargained for. Buffy had fled Rome after her encounter with Spike. She didn’t want to be anywhere he was, not with her heart in anguish and his ability to so easily break it. She packed up Annette and headed back home, to England. It was the one place she was most comfortable and Reagan was there. Upon entering her friend’s room, Buffy threw herself into her Reagan’s arms and began to sob, leaving the bewildered Annette standing in the doorway of the London Flat. “What did he do now?” Reagan asked, soothingly, ever the good friend. “It’s me!” wailed Buffy. “The things I let him do to me. Reagan, I feel so horrible!” Reagan looked down at her friend with concern. “What happened, Buffy?” Buffy looked up, her tear stained face, puffy and red. “I seduced him and then he went back to her!” “You had carnal relations with William the Bloody?” asked Reagan, for clarification. “And then he went back to his Sire?” Buffy nodded. “I knew I couldn’t make him stay with me, but it hurts Reagan! Why can’t I make him see that I love him?” she whined. Reagan gathered her friend up in her arms again, rocking Buffy as if she were a small child and not the vengeance demon she was. “Because he was hurt himself. You hurt him Buffy. And now he’s fallen in love with his murderess. And someday, he’ll grow out of it, see that she doesn’t love him, and he will be looking for someone to soothe his weary heart. You’ll just have to wait for that day,” said Reagan wisely, brushing back Buffy‘s fallen hair. “I don’t want to be in love with him anymore, Reagan,” Buffy whimpered. “No!” said the Watcher, stunned. “Buffy, you need to love him, even if he never returns your love again, even if he forgets about you entirely. It is your love for him the keeps you human. You need it.” Buffy looked up at her friend with awe. “Are you afraid of me Reagan?” she asked. “Little bit, yes,” she admitted. “But then I always have been. You were the Slayer; now, you are a demon. But I know that you would never hurt me.” “I love you Reagan.” “I know, dear girl. I love you too. And that is why,” said Reagan, pushing her friend away and standing up, “that is why we are going to have tea, and discuss just how I am going to get you fitted for a bride’s maid’s dress for my wedding. The seamstress won’t like having to make another dress on such short notice. And you are going to live here, while you are in London. I will hear of no plans to live elsewhere,” she finished with a note of finality. Buffy smiled up at her friend before wiping away the last of her tears. “Will I get to meet this Mr. Arthur Price before the wedding?” asked Buffy. “Most definitely.” __________________________________________ “You want me to what?” asked Buffy perplexed. “Do not look at me like I’ve grown another head, Buffy, it is merely an aesthetic change.” Buffy fingered her blonde tresses lovingly. Her friend wanted her to change the colour. “I think red would suit you very nicely. It is the height of fashion you know,” said the bride to be. “Red?” gulped Buffy. “I can’t do red. I’m blonde, no hair colour changes.” “Elizabeth Cecily Underwood!” barked Reagan. “The colour change is to protect you! Your vanity will just have to suffer through it.” “But...” “Spare me, please,” said Reagan. “I know all about his poems, how you were his blonde enchantress, but I’m sure that will give you little comfort when your blonde head has been cut off.” Buffy paused for a moment. “Reagan, you are just a little bit frightening sometimes.” Reagan smiled. “Glad to hear it. Now, hair, before I get really scary.” Buffy took the bottle of hair dye that her friend offered and stole out to her room, ordering Annette to bring up lots of hot water. She looked at the bottle and grimaced. She loved her golden locks. To cover them up, it was heart wrenching, but she understood why Reagan wanted her to do this. Reagan had a life, a life that was surrounded by the Watcher’s Council. Her friends, her fiancé, were all intimately connected with the very organization that attempted to kill them both. For Buffy it was simple to walk away with her new life as a demon, but for Reagan, who had not been presented with an option like that, she had retreated into the familiar. The Council. The Council that still had a portrait of Elizabeth Underwood, Slayer 1877 - 1880 on its gallery wall. __________________________________________ The newly red headed Vengeance Demon, sat sipping tea with a select group of Reagan’s female watcher friends in her flat. She’d been abruptly faced with Reagan’s weekly afternoon tea, and Reagan had demanded that she attend, the flat being too small to allow her to lurk about. Reagan had sensed her friend’s fear and had given Buffy an encouraging smile. Buffy was promptly introduced as her friend Miss Anne Summers, an expert in Vampires and Demons, but wary of the Council since the questionable death of the last Slayer, Elizabeth Underwood, her cousin. Buffy stared back at Reagan in wonder. Such a fanciful tale and so well constructed. Reagan had been planning this for a while now. She’d also gotten better at bending the truth, Buffy noted with a smirk. Then the questions had started, what was Elizabeth Underwood like? Was she really murdered by the Council or by the demon D’Hoffryn like the Council claimed. Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy could see Reagan looking on, pleased with herself. Buffy didn’t know it then, but Reagan had set up another facet to her already complicated life. “I should like you to meet the head of our Council, Mr. Bradford. I’m sure that he will find your information quite useful. The tragic loss of the late Slayer is truly criminal, if that is what indeed happened. Mr Giles’ tale of your cousin’s death seemed quite complete in it’s telling,” said one Mrs. Dashton, whose husband was also a Watcher. Buffy masked her panic well. The idea of stepping foot into the Watcher’s Council, a building riddled with spells to indicate when demons set foot over the threshold, and where she had been kept paralysed for so long. An involuntary shudder racked her body. “I...given my associations, I fear I would not be welcome or wanted. The building itself brings bad memories.” The ladies nodded in understanding. “Forgive me,” said Mrs. Dashton, “I merely am attempting to retain your council, Miss Summers. I would not wish to cause you stress.” “Perhaps, Anne, this opportunity to do some good in a world so fraught with demons who would do it harm, is of more importance than enduring a few negative memories. I myself have reconciled with my father, an instrument of the crime committed on Miss Underwood,” said Reagan. Buffy stared back at her friend. “Reagan! When? After all that he did to you?” exclaimed Buffy. “One cannot live without forgiveness Anne,” said Reagan with a pointed look. The ladies in the room nodded. __________________________________________ Within the week, Miss Anne Summers was established as a consultant in matters of a demon nature for the Council of Watchers. It astounded the Vengeance Demon to no end that Reagan had been planning to bring her back into the fold. “Of course my goal is for them to make you a full fledged Watcher,” admitted Reagan over breakfast some days afterwards. “You can’t be serious Reagan! I mean honestly, they are going to find out about your little scheme. I’m a demon, not a human and I still have my monthly quotas to make for D’Hoffryn. Anyanka will be wondering where I am.” “But it will keep you from moping about William now won’t it. I miss you Buffy. I want you to stay in London and be my friend again. All these women that I have tea with, they aren’t half the friend you are and you’ve been a Vengeance Demon for three years now. I want my children to know their Aunty Buffy.” Buffy smiled. “If it means that much to you Reagan, I shall try. But only for you and only until such time as I am found out, by the Council or by D’Hoffryn.” “Excellent,” said Reagan. “Next we must make Annette stop calling you Erixel.” “For the love of D’Hoffryn, you’ve saddled me with another name! I’m surprised my brain hasn’t collapsed under the pressure of it all. Elizabeth, Cecily, Underwood, Erixel, Anne, Summers.” “And you are going to have to stop swearing to D’Hoffryn! Anne!” Reagan giggled. __________________________________________ It was decided that Buffy should take over Reagan’s flat after her friend had married. In Mr. Arthur Price, Buffy was impressed. He did not possess that uptight nature that many of the Watchers had and he seemed to be open to change which was not surprising considering whom he was marrying. Buffy was glad her friend had found a companion in life that was kind and intelligent. But still Reagan’s marriage was another step her friend was making that she could not take. Buffy would never marry, never have a family. Looking out over London’s rainy landscape, she wondered where her William was, what he was doing. “What are you doing in London?” came Anyanka’s voice suddenly from behind her, the smoke dissipating from around her. Buffy turned with a smile. “So you’ve found me. It’s good to see you Anyanka.” She gave Anyanka a brief hug. “Erixel, my dear dear demon, I went looking for you after I had my fill of Dracula, and you weren’t in Rome like I thought you would be. William the Bloody is still in Rome, I checked. , so why aren’t you there?.” “I found I had to come back to London, one of my human friends is getting married.” Buffy held her breath, waiting for her friend to call her on her partial lie and was relieved when she didn’t say anything and nodded her head. “Very well. I shall stay here, nothing better to do. I filled my quota last night, an entire town of Transylvanian peasants, four hundred and three wishes, one night. I’m so tired. I was going to attend some party that Krevlin’s giving, but he’s always trying to swallow some limb whole and it’s always so disgusting,” Anyanka commented as she scrunched up her face. “This from the demon that eviscerated the entire membership of a renowned men’s club in Frankfurt?” “There’s a difference between causing gore and watching it for pleasure.” Buffy nodded. “So, shall I see you in some monstrosity of a dress or do they go burlap and blood larva like we do?” “A dress Anyanka, these are humans.” “There’s no accounting for taste.” Buffy giggled at her friend. “You wanna go kill something?” she asked. Anyanka shrugged. “Ok.” __________________________________________ Spike rolled over in his sleep, a sleep that was being disturbed by the constant moaning from the threesome that was going on in the next room. His cock twitched to think of his black goddess all wet and ready but his ire immerged at the thought of who was pounding into her cold wet core. Angelus. The moaning reached a pitch and one of them achieved orgasm. Reluctantly Spike’s hand drifted down his naked frame and took hold of his erect cock, begging for attention. Sliding his hand up and down over his hard prick, Spike’s thoughts did not return to the cheating Sire he was constantly trying to woo, but to the lithe body of the last woman he had had. Buffy. She had been so eager, so wet, and virginal just waiting for him. He had stayed a virgin himself all of four minutes when he had risen, Drusilla eagerly inciting him to take her then and there in the cemetery. Buffy had stayed virginal for three years waiting for him. It gave him a secret pleasure to know that she had saved herself for him, when the demon community had much more lax ideals when it came to sex. Spike’s hand quickened its pace as he though of her lush breasts and how she had wanted him then and there. He remembered her hot wet folds, so different from Drusilla’s, so open and inviting, fitting him like a velvet glove and burning him to his core. And her taste. Spike licked his lips as he remembered the way her juices poured over his tongue as she came. There was a moan from the next room followed by a piercing screech that could only have been from Darla. Spike paid the sound no mind, his thoughts more agreeably focused on the memory of his blonde enchantress. In his mind, Spike imagined her calling his name in ecstasy, her nails digging into his pale flesh. His hand frantically keeping up with the rhythm of her thrusts in his mind. Spike jerked off the mattress as he shot his load into the sheet that covered him, the trio of vamps in the next room still going at it. With disgust, Spike cleaned himself off and threw away the sheet. He had to find her or the image of her fucking him in his head would drive him insane. __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #10 - Watchers

Disclaimer: Joss owns the BTVS characters. I own Reagan. Author's note: *hugs* to BLT for putting up with my atrocious propensity for repeating words. Thanks to everyone who has been taking the time to review! You rock! __________________________________________ Chapter 10: Watchers The streets of London were quiet as Buffy and Anyanka returned home from some late night vengeance, home being Reagan’s flat. “I will never understand why you insist on living here, Arashamahar is so much more...Well it smells better anyway,“ said Anyanka. Buffy sighed. “You are probably going to tell me I’m being unreasonable, but I like this dimension, I was born here. So were you if I’m not mistaken.“ “Well if you must know, yes, I was once human and it was a degrading and soul sucking experience. Orphaned, taken in by an oafish man who was cheating on me with a bar wench. So I turned him into a troll.“ Buffy nodded, she had known this before but it was different now with her friend actually telling her. “As you can imagine, I don’t look fondly on my human years, and it was a thousand years ago that I was elevated. And there is a prostitute that wants vengeance down that alley,” she added off handily with a nod down the darkened alley “By all means, go,“ said Buffy waving her friend down the alley. Though the late hour and the chill in the air did not affect Buffy in the slightest, she was done for the evening and could finish walking home alone. She was a demon, a Slayer, and she could take care of herself. A block further down the road, the mist that had hung in the air for so long turned into a regular London drizzle, coating Buffy’s exquisitely tailored dress with a heavy dew. Cursing herself for not teleporting like Anyanka has asked her to, she carried on with her journey, more concerned with her dress than with the vampire that was stalking her. She was going to have to take Annette with her to the seamstress’. She had to get a few new dresses anyway, having ruined a few with blood and then there had been that unfortunate incident with a bottle of ink while she and Reagan filled out thank you cards. “Now what’s a pretty little thing like you out here at this time of night?” came a voice, his words not cultured like Buffy expected in a vampire nowadays. Not William she thought, turning around and pulling out her watch to inspect the time. “It isn’t that late,” she countered. “And I go where I please,” she said firmly. The vampire chuckled, sending a cringe of disgust up Buffy’s spine. He was dirty, a state of filth that she had never seen another human being exhibit. Buffy had to remind herself that this thing in front of her wasn’t a human being. It hadn’t changed into his demonic face yet, but Buffy was sure it couldn’t be any better than the missing tooth, scarred, and stubbly vampire that faced her now. Buffy put her watch away and faced the vampire with a scowl on her face. She seriously wasn’t in the mood to fight a vampire. Just as she was about to teleport away, she heard a voice drift from behind her. “Miss Summers?” It was Miss Cruickshank, one of the Watchers that had been at Reagan’s house for tea. Buffy turned to see the young woman approach, stake in hand. “Good grief,” muttered Buffy, before turning and slugging the vampire in the jaw, bringing loose another tooth. “Oh Miss Summers!” said the shocked woman. “Is that a vampire?” she inquired. Buffy rolled her eyes at the figure lying on the ground, mentally counting to ten in her head. “Yes, it is a vampire,” Buffy said with a note of concern in her voice. “That is why you must go home.” “I wish to observe your technique,” continued the woman. “My technique?” asked Buffy shocked. “Did you follow me?” “Oh no Miss Summers, I did no follow you. Well not all night at least,” she admitted with a small blush. “I observed you from my window with your friend, and knew at once that you were intent on slaying vampires. Please let me help.” Buffy found it very hard to keep her cool. She wanted to rage at this young girl and shake her senseless. It was nearly 2 am. “Miss Cruickshank, it is not safe for you to be out on the streets at this time of night, there are evil creatures out.” “Yes! That is why I wish to be a Watcher, to slay the evil creatures.” Buffy exhaled, using her Slayer training to remain calm. “Fine, whatever, but first you must know that it is a bad idea to have a conversation with your acquaintance while a vampire is lying prostrate on the ground,” said Buffy. “They do not remain that way long.” Miss Cruickshank nodded, in time for Buffy to push her out of the way as the vampire who had been on the ground lunged at the two women. Buffy grabbed the stake from Miss Cruickshank’s hand and stood protectively in front of the young girl. When the vampire charged again, Buffy let loose a flurry of punches at the toothless one’s face. She kicked out, sweeping her leg out under the vamp’s feet, knocking him down. Buffy plunged the stake into his heart and dusted her hands off as his corpse disintegrated. “Oh Miss Summers! That was brilliant!” exclaimed Miss Cruickshank. “Perhaps, Miss Cruickshank, but you really must get in off the streets. It is late.” Miss Cruickshank nodded and allowed Buffy to escort her home, her mouth not closing once on the way there. __________________________________________ Buffy saw Reagan at the breakfast table the next morning. After exchanging pleasantries Buffy launched into the topic that had been on her mind since the night before. “Reagan, while it is commendable that the Council is permitting women amongst their ranks, don’t you think that they would be more discerning as to just whom they allow in?” Reagan smiled, “You mean Miss Cruickshank, don’t you? She seemed rather infatuated with you at the tea. You are her hero,” Reagan pretended to swoon and giggled at Buffy‘s scowl. “It is not funny Reagan. She followed me last night, and was nearly killed by a vampire!” Reagan looked critically at her friend. “And what were you doing out so late last night?” she asked. “I was doing my job,” she replied. “I was about to teleport away from the disgusting specimen of a vampire when Miss Cruickshank appeared out of nowhere wanting to observe my technique.” Reagan giggled again. “No! Not funny! What if she had seen...” Buffy trailed off, biting down on her lip. “Seen what Buffy? Did you do something last night that was evil?” “Evil is in the eye of the beholder, Reagan,” she answered critically, though she did not feel any remorse for her actions last night. “You know I have a job to do, that is my first concern, above all this Watcher business you have me attending to.” “I am aware, Buffy. And if Miss Cruickshank is the girl I know her to be, the tale of your slaying prowess will no doubt be the talk of the Council this morning. She is rather loose tongued.” “Another reason to be cautious. Just how did such an idiot get to be a Watcher?” “Her mother was a Travers,” said Reagan sipping her tea. “Oh,” said Buffy understanding. __________________________________________ Spike stumbled from the cargo hold of a ship in Kent pissed out of his mind. The cargo had been an extensively good collection of French wine and he had generously partaken of some of the load, in an attempt to rid himself of the images that haunted his brain. He imagined that Drusilla would be terribly mad at him for his desertion. He’d get quite the whipping when he returned. Doesn’t mean you have to return, he tried to convince himself. Ah you know you’ll go back, you pussy whipped nancy boy Spike hopped aboard a train bound for London. He had had a terrible time finding out exactly where the object of his wet dreams was lodging; he had had to wring the information out of a bar keep at Rome’s most seedy and well known demon bar. She had gone home, was what he had been told. Home. London. From his location in Rome he had taken the next train to France, once there catching the first ship to England. Hours from London and envisioning himself biting into her sweet flesh again, Spike faded off to sleep, his hand drifting to the bulge in his trousers. __________________________________________ Reagan had been right. Miss Cruickshank had told her tale to everyone who had a willing ear, or unwilling for that matter, at the Council of Watchers leading to Miss Summer’s invitation to meet the head of the Council at a afternoon formal tea. Buffy didn’t want to go. “If you don’t go,” said Reagan worried, “Then they will know that something is wrong.” That made sense. “But Reagan, the demon wards? The spells?” Buffy reminded her. Reagan nodded. “I can take care of the spells, it is my department after all,” said the Watcher. “I have a theory about the demon wards though. You were elevated in the Council building itself.” Buffy nodded. “So that may mean that the wards won’t work on you. And what about D’Hoffryn? Did the wards go off when he appeared in your room?” she asked. Her brow crinkled in thought before shaking her head. “No, they didn’t. But Reagan that was years ago.” “They haven’t been updated I can tell you that. The same spells that protected the Council then are still in effect.” “I don’t know Reagan,” said Buffy. “Well if you are found out, you can always teleport away.” “That much is true.” __________________________________________ The next day at breakfast Buffy received a note. The Watcher’s Council insisted on paying her for her services. Buffy rolled her eyes and flung the note into the air, settling back in her chair. The big high and mighty head of the Council was summoning her for a meeting. She had expressed her views about demons and Slayers and her opinion of the Council rather liberally at the afternoon tea she had attended. After that performance she hardly expected to get a summons. Buffy looked up at her friend who was walking about the room packing her things. Reagan was getting married in the morning and subsequently moving in with Mr. Arthur Price. “I told you it was coming,“ said Reagan, wrapping a china plate in a towel. Buffy nodded. “You did, I can’t help but be nervous about it.” “You’ve been a consultant to the Council of Watchers for three weeks now and you’ve not been inside the building. It is natural that the head of the Council would wish to meet the famed Miss Summers.” Reagan sat beside her friend and took her hand. “We’ve discussed this before, Buffy. I will be there with you.” Buffy tried to smile. “Still worried though.” __________________________________________ The imposing edifice that housed the Council of Watchers brought a queasy feeling to Buffy’s stomach. Reagan grabbed Buffy’s hand and squeezed, imparting support and the fact that they were a little bit late for the meeting. It doesn’t matter if I’m late if the stupid wards and alarms go off, she thought. Buffy crossed the threshold with trepidation and closed her eyes in anticipation of badness. When none happened Buffy exhaled that breath she had been holding in. Reagan gave her friend a smile and led her through the corridors. Buffy and Reagan were escorted into Mr Bradford’s office and given tea. Henry Bradford was as imposing as the office that he held. Buffy briefly remembered him being at a few of the meetings she had had with the Council, more specifically the meeting in which she was instructed to break William’s heart. “Allow me to thank you for Miss Cruickshank’s life, my son is most grateful to have his fiancée alive and well,” said the head of the council, taking a seat next to Reagan and helping himself to tea. “No problem,” said Buffy. “Perhaps you are curious as to why after these three weeks I have at last wanted to meet you?” Setting down her cup Buffy looked hard at the Watcher. “I’m sure that a man with your responsibilities, with so many lives riding on your decisions, are a very busy man.” “That much is true Miss Summers, however busy I am. It has come to my attention that you have been spreading rumours about the late Slayer’s death...” “They aren’t rumours Mr Bradford,” she interrupted. “I know that certain individuals wish to glamorise the lives of the slayers, to romanticize them if you will, but I assure you that your cousin’s death was not glamorous. Elizabeth Underwood suffered a terrible injury, an injury which took from her the use of her legs, and after weeks of depression she took her own life. This is the truth. Naturally such truth would not be an uplifting tale and so we let the tale of the demon D’Hoffryn’s involvement spread.” He took a sip of his tea, not in the least bit affected by Buffy’s look of dismay. “This is why you wished to meet with me?” she questioned, her voice belying the anger she felt. “To tell me how...my cousin died? To stop the rumours that have been flying about the Watchers in your employ since long before I arrived in London?” “Anne...” warned Reagan trying to calm her friend. “Not entirely, Miss Summers,” Mr Bradford continued on. “There is another matter. A demon, terrorizing the streets of London. With your expertise, I thought perhaps you would be willing to work with our watchers, here in the council...to find and destroy the demon Anyanka.” __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #11 - Opening Doors

Disclaimer: Joss owns them, not me. I’m still wishing for my own Naked Spike. Author’s note: Once again BTL has saved you all from reading a chapter that was infected with repeating word syndrome. *Worships at BTL’s feet* Thanks to everyone who’s reviewed! __________________________________________ Chapter 11: Opening Doors Spike stood outside the building that housed the object of his desires. He had spent the day holed up in his London house, vacant now for three years, waiting for the sun to go down so he could see her. He stared at the sombre house, a small citadel compared to the other houses. Taking a deep breath, he could smell her lingering scent, making his trousers somewhat uncomfortable. The doorman stood puffed out, his heavy frame comprised more of flab than muscles. Pushing off another repeated call from his Sire, Spike walked up to the doorman. “Good evening, sir. How can I help you?” the brown haired man asked, a goofy grin on his face. Spike looked him over, seeing the name Harris stitched in his coat, and snapped his neck. __________________________________________ Buffy seethed. They wanted her to help them destroy Anyanka? She kicked at the canopy bed that stood unfeeling in the middle of her bedroom. They couldn’t honestly be serious right? Of course they were serious. Why wouldn’t they be? They thought she was some rogue demon hunter. Buffy growled at just what her friend had gotten her into. Buffy was alone in the flat, well, alone with Annette anyway. Reagan was having dinner at a posh restaurant with her father of all people. Tomorrow was Reagan’s wedding, and tomorrow, the flat in which she now stood in would be hers. There was a knock at the door. Buffy rolled her eyes thinking that it was probably some Watcher wanting to start tracking Anyanka right away. Buffy walked into the sitting room, and stood waiting for Annette to open the door. Annette opened the door to reveal the haggard body of the very vampire Reagan wanted her to distract her mind from. “Monsieur William!” greeted Annette happily. Spike attempted to ruffle the young girl’s hair but was stopped by the barrier. Buffy walked to the doorway slowly, unsure of exactly why he was here. She eyed him up and down, taking in his ragged appearance, until her eyes locked with his. “I thought you were in Rome?” she finally commented. “I thought you were in Rome...” he said. “Colour me right surprised when I found that you buggered off after our last tiff.” “I had no reason to stay,” she said defiantly. He sent a look that she swore saw right through her, his blue eyes delving uncomfortably into her green ones. “Wouldn’t say no to an invitation in, pet... The neighbours will start to talk.” Buffy glared at him a moment before she relented. “Come in William,” she said, placing herself in front of Annette. Spike strutted through the doorway, closing the wooden door behind him, Annette rushing forwards to lock it. “How are ya, nib?” asked Spike of Annette, finally getting to ruffle her hair. “What are you doing here Spike?” Buffy asked. Spike started walking about the room, taking in all the pieces of furniture and finery. “This your flat?” he inquired. “Doesn’t seem to be the style of place you’d live in.” “It’s Reagan’s. And how do you know what my style would be? You’ve never been to...oh. Never mind,” she said remembering that he had been to her lair in Arashamahar. “Heard some funny stories while I’ve been travelling, pet. Heard that your friend Miss Wyndham is about to be Mrs. Price, and that she’s got herself a new best friend Watcher. Miss Anne Summers, demon hunter.” Spike turned and looked her dead in the eyes once again. “Wouldn’t be you would it? Another one of your aliases?” “Why does it make such a difference what I am called?” she asked. Spike gave her a queer smile. “Wouldn’t be the first time you’ve changed your name on me, pet.” “Why are you here Spike?” she asked again. Spike walked up close to her and leaned into her ear as a single finger trailed down her arm. “Been having right improper thoughts about your lovely quim, pet,” he said his lips brushing against her ear. Buffy blushed. “Annette!” said Buffy trying to keep herself calm. “Go into my room and tidy up. Don’t come out of there until I send for you.” The girl was up and out of the room in a flash, a huge smile playing on her lips. Buffy turned back to Spike, her lips in a thin line, trying to keep herself angry at his words. “And you think that you can show up at my flat and what? I’d throw myself into your arms and beg you to take me? You are greatly mistaken Spike.” His cocky smile did not falter. With a step back, he undressed her with his eyes. “You travelled across the continent because you wanted to ravish me?” she asked quietly. “When you had your precious Drusilla right there, in the same city? Didn’t she want you?” she asked with spite. Spike’s eyes flashed for a moment but he didn’t answer. “She was too busy being Angelus’ toy wasn’t she?” Buffy stepped further away from him and walked across the room to an upholstered chair. Putting her hand on the back of the chair she turned and looked sharply at him. “Am I your whore?” she demanded. When he didn’t answer, Buffy picked up the chair and threw it at him. Spike dodged the wayward article of furniture and stalked towards the livid demon. “Is that what this is?” she raged. “You have an itch and I am your chosen one to scratch it?” Spike grabbed her arms and pressed her up against a nearby wall. “This isn’t what you think it is. I’ve defied my sire to come here Buffy. To come to you. I want you.” Spike leaned down and nuzzled his marks on her neck. He was internally shocked at the words that flew out of his mouth, not having wanted to admit it. Buffy closed her eyes against the incredible feeling that was shooting straight from his bite marks to her core. “Spike...” she whimpered against his touch. His hands moved to her breasts clothed in her restrictive Victorian dress. His lips found hers in a crushing kiss, full of passion and lust. She could deny him nothing. She knew it and here it was being proven. With one swift move, Spike tore the collar of her dress off, at last revealing in full view the marks he had left on her neck. Buffy’s hand flew to her neck, gasping at what he had done. He had that cocky smile back on his face, proud of his actions. “Incorrigible,” she muttered. before she leaned back in and kissed him once more. “You know it pet,” his hands roaming lower on her bodice. Her brain made one last ditch effort before shutting down. “I’m not having sex with you a door away from a fourteen year old girl, Spike.” “Well then pet, we’ll just have to find some other place to go,” he purred. Buffy looked up into his bluer than blue eyes and suddenly couldn’t remember why they couldn’t have sex here. Spike leaned in and began nibbling on the marks he had made on her neck not a month ago. Buffy moaned, the most glorious feeling spread from her neck straight to her core, urging her hands towards the fastening of his breaches. She took his hard member out of the confines of his trousers and slid her hand up and down his shaft, causing an audible groan of appreciation from the vampire. Their eyes met, Spike giving her a look that could only mean he was going to enjoy this. His hands dove into her skirts, pulling them up to reveal a massive amount of white underclothes. Petticoats and bloomers. Mimicking his earlier actions, Spike yanked the offending material away, his hands finally able to touch her glistening depths. His fingers were heavenly against her weeping slit. She shuddered against him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and allowing the vampire to hoist her up, positioning her entrance at the tip of his hard and ready cock. With a gasp, Buffy sank down on his hard shaft, letting him set the rhythm of their coupling. His eyes were darker than she expected, as if he knew what she was thinking. This was just fucking, this wasn’t anything more. And it hurt her heart to think it, even as the motion of his cock thrusting into her pussy sent tremors of delight throughout her body. Her contemplation of exactly what she was doing was cut short by the piercing of fangs through her flesh, rendering her incapable of speech, or thinking about anything except him, his prick, or his fangs. And just a little bit of how it would feel if she bit him. Buffy muffled her screams into his shoulder, clawing at his back, while she rode out the orgasm. Spike’s roar of completion wasn’t far behind. He released her legs and Buffy slid back into a standing position, watching his face for signs of emotion. When none came immediately, she slipped away from his body, still pressing into the wall, to gather up her ripped bloomers. With a passing glance, Buffy took off into her room to change. Her dress was ripped, her underwear ruined. Spike was busy putting himself away , missing the crushed look on Buffy’s face. He grabbed her arm as she slid away from him. “The knickers stay off while I’m here,” he ordered. Buffy’s mouth hung open for a second. She didn’t know how to respond to that. Buffy’s eyes grew wide as she heard the lock to the front door of the flat began to turn. With demon speed, Buffy tugged Spike into her bedroom and closed the door before Reagan had a chance to see her newest guest. “Buffy?” called Reagan through Buffy’s bedroom door. “I am back!” “Just a second Reagan, I’m changing!” Buffy called out after her friend. Buffy pushed Spike down on her bed, tossed Annette her ripped undergarments and located herself a new dress. Stationing herself behind the screen, Buffy changed out of the ripped attire. “Maybe I should go greet the blushing bride,” said Spike, hoisting himself onto his elbows. “You will not!” ordered Buffy. “She is a Watcher, she will dust you.” Buffy slipped the dress over her head and hastily buttoned up. “I’ve met the esteemed Miss Wyndham pet.” “Before she was a Watcher, and before you got all vampy.” “And just who’s fault is that?” he asked, Buffy slowly slinking out behind the screen.. “Well if you ask her, it’s her fault. She saw you bump into Angelus on your way from the party. She decided to warn the Council rather than go after you,” said Buffy sadly. “Got her little priorities right then, didn’t she?” he said none too bitterly. “What did you expect her to do? Get herself killed? That would have been really great, having the two people in the world I love turned into vampires.” Spike got quiet for a moment. “You love me?” he asked. “You are a git, you know that?” she said, at last changed into her new dress and ready to greet Reagan in the next room. Without another look at the vampire lounging on her bed, Buffy walked out of the room. __________________________________________ “Buffy?” asked Reagan once Buffy entered the parlour. “Do you have someone in there with you?” “Who would I have in there Reagan? Besides Annette?” Reagan gave a nod of her head in understanding. “How was your dinner with he who pushes you down oubliettes?” asked Buffy. “My father,” began Reagan pointedly, “and I had a very nice meal. He’s most eager for me to stop living by myself like some common woman.” “Am I chopped liver?” asked Buffy. “The words he used to describe, Miss Anne Summers were less than cordial.” “Colour me surprised,” said Buffy, using Spike’s words from earlier. “He is trying, to be more fatherly, and less suspicious Watcher, he really is.” “Uh huh. So tomorrow, leaving off the stigma of maidenhood...” Reagan gave a small snort. “At least I’ll have a ring on my finger, unlike some person I know,” said Reagan with a keen stare. “Demon now, Reagan. I don’t have to adhere to all those Victorian conventions like you do. It’s perfectly acceptable to be promiscuous in Arashamahar.” “Except you are curiously monogamous, Buffy! Don’t you go and make excuses. You love him, and if he were to show up on our doorstep this moment you would be able to deny him nothing!” Buffy looked down at the ground and blushed, really hoping that Spike wasn’t plastered against the door trying to listen, but doubting it all the same with his enhanced vamp hearing. “You are right of course,” said Buffy. “I only hope that I remain so devoted to my Arthur as long as you have remained devoted to your William.” Buffy looked up at her friend and smiled. “I’m sure you will Reagan, he is very devoted to you, and not bad looking either.” The two girls giggled. “Are you going out tonight?” Reagan asked her friend. Buffy glanced casually at the window and shrugged. “I hadn’t been planning on it. Though I probably should, I don’t want to get D’Hoffryn mad at me.” “If you don’t like being a Vengeance Demon Buffy, why do you stay? Break the pendant and become human again.” “And have the Watcher’s Council wondering why there are two Slayers again? No, Reagan I gave up that life of being told what to do and how to do it. I may be told what to do now, by D’Hoffryn, but at least I get to choose the what, where, and how. I have nothing else. This is my life now.” “Not true!” protested Reagan taking her friend’s hand. “You have me, you have this new identity, you could be a Watcher.” Buffy shook her head. “No Reagan, I really can’t. I appreciate what you are trying to do, but the truth of the matter is, this isn’t my world anymore.” Reagan frowned, “I bet if William were to tell you to give up being a Vengeance Demon, you would do it in a heartbeat.” “But he hasn’t.” __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #12 - Blood and Lace

Disclaimer: My Buffy is a Vengeance Demon. Joss’ Buffy was a Slayer. Author's note: Thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing, feedback makes me do a happy dance. Extra special hugs to BTL my fab beta. __________________________________________ Chapter 12: Blood and Lace “You are possibly the most aggravating vampire in the entire world Spike!” said an exasperated Vengeance Demon as she returned to her flat, the persistent vampire in tow. Her plans of wreaking some vengeance tonight were a bust once Spike had caught up with her. There was something about a vampire wanting to eat your wishers that made them run away. She had spent most of her night trying to get away from him. But he wanted to talk. Teleporting to another part of the city had done little. It had given her an hour or so to get back to her task before he showed up again. “Just answer the question!” he mock whispered, knowing that if he woke up the Watcher all hell would break loose. “What she said, would you do it?” “I’m not answering the question Spike!” she hissed at him. “I won’t give you that kind of power over me, you already have too much, damn vampire.” Buffy shut the door to the flat behind her, only to have the lights go on. “Buffy?” asked Reagan from the hallway. “Mr. Fairchilde?” Caught. “You brought a vampire into my home?” questioned Reagan sleepily. “No, not vampire. Well, yes, vampire, but Reagan, he...it’s William! You can’t honestly think he’d eat you?” Buffy tried to make herself understood. “I’m right full up just now,” agreed Spike. Buffy turned to her vampire lover and smacked him on the arm. “Not helping!” “I...I couldn’t sleep, then I heard voices. When did you arrive in England Mr. Fairchilde?” asked Reagan. “I had thought you were in Rome with your family.” A look of understanding passed over Spike’s face. “So that’s how you knew where I was then,” he said addressing Buffy. “Why you were going to Rome, you had heard that Dru was there from the Council of Wankers...” “So?” she spat. “It’s not like I needed a reason to go to Rome. Vengeance Demon!” “Tea?” offered Reagan. “There is no way I’ll be able to sleep now...” __________________________________________ Had you asked Reagan, she would have denied it, but Buffy was certain that the Watcher had fallen asleep with a stake in her hand. She was just far too polite and feeling responsible for William that she would not tell him to leave and do the disinvite spell. The two demons left the bride to sleep away the morning and snuck back to Buffy’s room, Annette having been asleep in her own room for hours. “Reagan’s getting married in the morning,” noted Buffy as she changed out of her dress, not bothering to hide herself from his view. “You can have her room after she leaves, for however long you are in town.” Spike walked up behind her and started undoing her corset for her. “I think I like this room,” he purred. Buffy turned to look at him. “What is this to you?” she asked, Spike’s hands going still at her back. Buffy turned to look at him. “Are you here until you’ve had your fill of me? Then rush right back to Drusilla?” “Maybe I’m here until you’ve had your fill of me...” he said, tracing his fingers lightly over her now bare arms. “I’ll never be...” She was cut off with a kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, seeking out her own. She moaned against his mouth, his hands pulling her corset off of her, leaving her in garters. Spike stooped and picked up the light demon and placed her on the bed, covering her body with his own. Her nimble fingers struggled against the fastenings of his shirt to remove his own clothing as quickly as he had hers. He slowly crept down the length of her body and settled himself between her thighs. “If you think that this is getting you out of this discussion, William...” she started, but stopped as she couldn’t help but gasp at the feel of his cool tongue circling her clit. Spike pushed her legs further apart, intent on staying there until she woke the Watcher up in the next room with her screams. Buffy bit back the moan that wanted out as Spike’s tongue made circles around her clit, occasionally brushing against it. Spike moved his mouth away from her hot core for a moment to gauge her reaction to his attentions. The face that greeted him from the head of the bed was frustrated. With a smile, Spike shifted into game face and sank his fangs into the soft fleshy part of her thigh, drinking deep. He had been acquiring a taste for his Buffy. For, she was his now. No disputing that. He only had to claim her to make it official. Truth was, though, that he feared Drusilla’s reaction. His Sire was most unpredictable. His mouth full of demon blood, he painted her with his tongue, all the way up her taut abdomen and across her breasts, until he positioned himself at her neck and the marks he had opened only hours ago. Buffy groaned as he sank his fangs into her neck once more, mingling the blood he had left in his mouth with that of her thigh. His teasing attentions to her clit had made her frantic for more friction, and her hands eagerly sought out the ties of his breeches. His fangs in her neck, and free of his breeches, Spike thrust into her hot core. “Spike!” she squeaked, as he increased his rhythm, pounding into her like the demon he was. Orgasm after orgasm flooded over her, with his relentless thrusting as she called out to every higher power she knew of. Her tired body lost in the throes of passion, and unable to truly take account of what she was actually doing, Buffy leaned into his neck and bit down, hard enough to draw blood. He came with a roar that she swore woke the entire house. __________________________________________ “Buffy?” came Reagan’s voice through the door. “Buffy? We need to get ready.” Buffy groaned. Her body hurt in odd places and she felt like she had let blood dry on her skin. Opening her eyes she found the reason. She did have dried blood all over her. Memories of the night before came back to her. With a smile she rolled over and kissed her lover, who was sprawled next to her in the bed. He was equally covered in her blood, which for some reason was turning her on. “Buffy?” called Reagan again. “Are you awake?” “Yes, Reagan. I am awake.” “Would you like me to send Annette to you?” “Please, and tell her to bring hot water.” Buffy pulled the covers over Spike’s naked body and robed herself, covering up most of the blood and bites. She just hoped that Annette wouldn’t make a big deal about it. Or the sheets. She looked at her bed and sighed. The whole set of linen was going to have to be replaced. __________________________________________ Buffy was lying in a hot bath, soaking off the blood behind a screen in her room. Annette had said not a word about the blood and she was thankful. Somewhere on the other side of the screen Spike slept on, there was no reason for him to be up. She knew she should be mad. She should be livid that he expected her to give herself over to him whenever he wanted. He had such power over her. Buffy dressed carefully, making sure that her new wounds weren’t aggravated by the fabric of her bride’s maid dress. With a glance towards the figure on the bed, Buffy wondered if he would be here when she got back. It was a fear she couldn’t deny. Sometime, sooner than she anticipated, he would forsake her and go back to Drusilla. __________________________________________ “So this is what’s passing as a wedding these days,” said Anyanka, coming up behind Buffy who sat at the head table, waiting for Reagan and Arthur to be done with the reception line. “Anyanka!” Buffy hissed. “What are you doing here?” Anyanka sat down in an empty chair and looked her friend in the eyes. “D’Hoffryn’s found out, probably by someone trying to earn points. He’s not happy let me tell you.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “Found out about what? That I’m at a human wedding, and not planning on doing vengeance, or that my human friend decided to recruit me into an organisation that was the reason I was elevated, and seriously considering vengeance at the next meeting I have to go to.” “Ya, that last one. You are planning vengeance against the Council of Watchers?” Anyanks’s voice was low, making sure that the people around her couldn’t hear her. “Oh yes, and perhaps I did not tell you exactly what the Watcher’s Council has been employing me to do. Locate and capture the infamous Anyanka, scourge of men.” “Oh pish, that’s cause they are all men. They all deserve to have their penis’ skink to the size of raisins.” “Perhaps Anyanka but I don’t think it is particularly safe for you to be here right now,” Buffy replied as her eyes searched the room to see if anyone had taken note of Anyanka. “And I’m telling you that I don’t think it is particularly safe for you to be here either,” Anyanka argued back. Buffy nodded. “Is it true that your vampire is in town? Erixel, are you going to get him out of your system or not?” “I’m thinking not, Anyanka. I don’t want him out of my system. I love him,” said Buffy dreamily. “He’ll go back to his Sire,” she warned. “I heard that Drusilla and Angelus are furious that he left them in Rome.” “Ya I feel really bad for Drusilla.” Anyanka stood up and straightened her skirts. “Well I thought you should know. You know at some point I’d like to meet your William.” She gave the other demon a smile, letting her know she respected her decision, even if she didn’t agree with it. Buffy smiled up at her friend. “Thanks Anyanka. I won’t be staying in London for very much longer. I know it can only be a matter of time until I’m found out. I’m just here for Reagan’s wedding. That’s the only reason I’m here.” “Look me up when you are back in Arashamahar, I’m thinking about doing a dinner party.” “I will do that Anyanka.” Anyanka walked off, her skirts swishing behind her, to a spot out of the way, to open a portal or teleport to where ever she was going. Buffy’s gaze returned to Reagan, happily now Mrs. Wyndham-Price. She could tell that her friend was thinking about babies already. It was a terrible thought. Reagan with children, little Wyndham-Prices running about the countryside. Okay, so it wasn’t terrible, it was what it was and it made Buffy feel like she had betrayed a inner fibre of herself. She wanted children of her own, little Fairchildes with their mother’s blond hair and their father’s piercing blue eyes. And yes, Spike wasn’t going to stay with her. Spike would go back to Drusilla. Frankly she couldn’t believe he had come at all. Openly defying his Sire to come and get an itch scratched. It added fuel to her belief that Drusilla didn’t give him the attention he deserved. __________________________________________ The mood in the reception hall turned romantic as the music started and Reagan and her father took to the floor for the father/daughter dance. As the dance wore on, other couples of fathers and daughters took to the floor. Miranda Travers and her father, Mr. Bradford and his daughter, Miss Cruickshank and her father. Buffy looked on with longing, missing her own father desperately. Buffy scanned the crowd for people she knew. Off in a corner sat Giles. His attendance brought a smile to her face. He looked happy and that made her happy. Yet, he was just another person that she had to avoid. The music started up again, this time a slow hesitant medley that just begged for sweethearts to take to the floor. There was a tap on her shoulder. Buffy turned to see a pale faced very young Watcher who was intent on asking her to dance. He wasn’t the most handsome man in the world, but it was better than sitting and staring at the crowd on the dance floor. The young man, whose name she discovered was Thomas, danced carefully with her, almost as if she would break. “Miss Summers, I hear that you are quite the asset to the Council,” said Mr. Thomas. Buffy tried to act humble. She looked down, and tried to blush. His shaking grip on her waist reminded her of her William before that terrible night, before she broke his heart. “Miss Summers? Are you quite well?” asked her dance partner concerned. “Oh I’m fine,” she stammered, “Just lost in nostalgia.” He seemed to take that at face value and did not press her with further questions. Suddenly he stopped the slow waltz and pulled away from her as he gave way to another man, who had asked for her hand. Thomas pressed a kiss to her hand before backing away completely. Buffy smiled and gave a small curtsey. She turned to face the person she’d least likely thought she’d see there. However, given his vampiric impulsiveness, she shouldn’t have doubted it. “William?” she whispered. “What are you doing here? There are Watchers here.” He chuckled. “Yes I am aware of that Cecily. Your friend Reagan is a watcher. I used to be in society with half these people.” “That is why you shouldn’t be here William. They know you are a vampire,” she reminded him, even thought it was not entirely true. She had had Reagan do that spell all those years ago, to cover up his existence. They knew that William the Bloody was a vampire, but not that William Fairchilde, one of their acquaintance and of considerable connection to the former Slayer was one and the same. “So, who’s the git?“ he growled, nodding off towards Thomas. Spike pulled her towards him, their bodies so close as to raise a few eyebrows. She stared into his eyes, his reason for being there finally hitting her. “You are here because you are going to leave, aren’t you?” she asked her voice hitching, ignoring his jealousy for the moment. She felt his body stiffen against her. It had to be true. “I can feel her Buffy. She’s not happy with me right now. She wants me back at her side.” “And you’ll go,” she said softly. “Buffy...” Spike trailed off, unsure of what to say. He couldn’t deny that it hurt to see her face rejected and resigned because of him. “I know we’ve been over this, she’s your Sire, she made you, saved you from mediocrity gave you immortality. All of which I drove you to,” she muttered. pulling away from him and walking over to a window. After a moment, Spike followed after her, pausing just outside her peripheral vision. “When?” she asked, fearful that he was going sooner than later. He put a hand to her cheek and sighed. “Tonight,” she answered for him. “I scratched that itch for you and you’re off.” Her voice was bitter, and Spike hated it. Both demons were unhappily caught up in their own thoughts, so much so that they failed to register in whose direction they had ended up in. “Oh dear lord! Buffy?” came Giles’ voice. Buffy looked up to see her Watcher, his arm snugly around the waist of Miranda Travers looking shocked at her appearance. “Giles?” Buffy stammered. “You married Miranda Travers?” she asked aghast. “For D’Hoffryn’s sake, why?” “No need to be rude, Elizabeth,” said Giles right away the role of Watcher settling with familiarity on his shoulders, Buffy bowing her head down. Spike guffawed at the Watcher’s ability to make Buffy feel so very small in such a short space of time. “I see that your acquaintance has remained the same, death obviously wasn’t an obstacle for you Mr. Fairchilde. Tell me, are you a result of her vengeance wish or are you the result of some other mystical power?” Spike cast a questioned glance at his former dance partner. Buffy chose to ignore the whole topic. “I hear that Elizabeth Underwood died at the hands of the demon D’Hoffryn, took her own life and was killed by that Monster Angelus. So many tales of death. Perhaps her Watcher knows which story is true?” “The truth was intensely embarrassing,” summed up Giles, with a glance to his wife, indicating that he wasn’t willing to go into detail with her around. “When the alternative of being suffocated by a group of Watchers was so much more appealing...” Buffy snarked back. “Anne?” said Reagan from behind her. Buffy turned to see her friend and her new husband standing directly behind her and William. “Anne, your voice is starting to carry,” said Reagan quietly. “Mr. Price did you know that your wife invited a demon to your wedding?” asked Giles. Arthur’s face lit up into a smile. “Of course I did, Mr. Giles. My Reagan tells me everything. We are most honoured to have Miss Summers at our wedding. She is a great friend of Reagan’s,” Arthur replied without missing a beat. Buffy was never so grateful for Arthur Price than at that moment. “We were just on our way to find you!” said Buffy falsely chipper. “William and I must depart.” Reagan nodded in understanding. “I shall see you after the honeymoon?” she asked. Buffy nodded and hugged her friend. “I guess this means no more Watcher meetings?” asked the bride. Buffy laughed. “Sadly I must decline.” With another hug the friends parted, each leading their respective partner’s away from the irate Mr. and Mrs. Giles. ________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #13 - Violation

Disclaimer: Joss and I had a little discussion where he agreed to let me play with Spike as much as I liked. Ok it wasn’t a real conversation...But I can dream. Author’s note: Once again thanks, hugs and squishes to Bloodytearsoflife for being such a wonderful beta! Thanks to spet, Marzbar, Tasha, and Wulfie (even though he called me a poophead) for the fab reviews of the last chapter! __________________________________________ Chapter 13: Violation The silence of the street outside the reception hall was all the sound that accompanied Spike and Buffy as they made their way to her flat. Spike was planning his trip back to Rome and how he would explain his absence to his Sire. Buffy was contemplating the fact that she had to leave London. She resolutely decided against Rome. William was going to Rome. No, someplace far far away from William. China? America? Buffy turned the key to her flat to find Annette sleeping on the couch, her ever present darning in her hand. Spike brushed past her on his way to her bedroom and returned seconds later with a satchel. He is really going now, she thought sadly. “There isn’t anything I can say to make you stay?” she asked, her eyes looking at him through her eyelashes. “Buffy...” he warned. “What? You really have no idea exactly how this tears me up inside. You going back to Drusilla? It’s painful Spike. When I came here, I was prepared not to see you again for a long long time. Then you had to come and show up on my doorstep, sweeping me up into your arms, making me forget my resolve. You can’t keep doing this to me. Please William. Please make up your mind. Either stay with me or go to her.” Buffy was tired and weary of this back and forth game, either he was to be hers or not. She just wished he would make up his mind and leave her in her misery. Spike was silent a moment before answering, not daring to look up at her. “I have to go Buffy. I love her.” “Why?“ Buffy exclaimed, her whole body rigid and fraught with so many questions. “No, you know what? I don’t want to know. I don’t care. Just go.” She turned her face away, staring at the door he would soon pass through. His hand brushed over her cheek, making her face him. “We had our chance Buffy, and you know how that went.” “I can take it back!” Her eyes grew wide as she thought of the possibility. “Make a wish! It’s what I do!” Spike shook his head sadly, a morose expression on his face. “I don’t wish to go back to that life, Buffy. And I don’t think you want to either.” “No?” she asked. “I could, in an instant, all I have to do is take this pendant off you know,” she said fingering the jewel that hung from her neck. “One yank on this chain and I’m just Buffy again. Probably a crippled Buffy, but....if you asked me to...I do it in a second.” Her eyes started into his. Spike had to look away, her green depths making him uncomfortable. “I wouldn't ask you to cripple yourself for me pet,” he replied as his hand found the jewel, its power radiating in his hand. “You know that I haven’t taken this off since I was elevated....” her hands found the clasp easily. “Buffy?” Unlatching the clasp, Buffy drew the pendant off of her neck. “It’s so small...” she said examining it. “Buffy put it back on,” he ordered, breaking Buffy from her thoughts. Buffy looked up at him from the pendant with harsh eyes. “Why are you still here?” she asked bitterly. “Isn’t Drusilla calling you?” “She is pet, I don’t want to leave you like this...” “Like what? Mad at you? You want to make sure I’ll open my legs the next time you are in town?” She was being nasty and she knew it, the raw anger felt better than the despair that was sitting in the pit of her stomach. “If I know you any, Buffy, you won’t be staying here much longer,” he responded, his tone knowing. His blue eyes shined, and Buffy’s guard broke a bit, well, more like it completely fell apart. There was no way she could stay mad at him, not when his eyes were telling her that this was hurting him just as much as it was hurting her. “That much is true, but I’m not going back to Rome,” she said, her tone becoming softer. “Promise me something though?” she said after a moment, chewing on her lip. He nodded. “If ever in some freak series of events, you find yourself without the need to attach yourself to your sire, look me up?” A smirk crossed his lips. “I think I can manage that, pet.” “Ok, I’m not mad at you anymore, but don’t think that you can just prance over to where ever I am to get shagged...” “I don’t bloody prance!” Spike scowled, crossing his arms. Buffy smirked. “Never, big bad vampire like you.” She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. He was beautiful and he had a power over her like she never hoped to feel again. Even D’Hoffryn couldn’t command her like he could. He was beautiful. They could have been beautiful together and had beautiful babies. Suddenly, Spike caught her up in his arms, causing her to let her pendant fall to the floor. His lips were on her hers in an instant, muffling a moan of pleasure as he carried her to her bedroom, her pendant lying forgotten on the parlour floor. Annette slept on, undisturbed on the couch. In her room, with the door closed, Spike laid Buffy upon her bed, and began tearing at her clothes, desperate to get her naked and open to him. The sad look in her eyes was heartbreaking. With a rip, he left her clad only in her garters and corset. Her lack of knickers brought a smile to his face. She turned her head, a tear rolling down her cheek. She couldn‘t help the tear that escaped. She was going to let him have his way with her again. A goodbye shag. Perhaps being able to fuck a Slayer was a turn on? ‘Cause that‘s what she was without her pendant. His lips kissing up her thighs drove her to wiggle closer to him, and to his member straining through his breeches. This is the last time, the thought came unbidden into her brain. Another tear escaped as she looked out the window, at the ceiling, anywhere but at his face. Anywhere but his beautiful blue eyes. If she looked there, she knew she would really start to cry. Spike tongue circled her clit lazily, attempting to bring some sort of response from the girl in front of him. It was as if she had retreated inside of herself, blocking out the world around her, unaware that he was between her legs. This wasn’t how he wanted her. Spike unfastened his breeches and let his hard cock fall at attention, eagerly awaiting insertion. Her unresponsiveness was making him mad. Roughly, he grabbed her and thrust her onto his shaft, pumping into her a few times before forcing her legs up, letting her feet hang over his shoulders. If she wasn’t going to pay attention, he was going to make sure that she felt how rough it could be. He slammed into her, not caring in the slightest that she hadn’t been very wet or that she even acknowledged his actions. He gripped her hips tighter, leaving bruises. The silence finally met a breaking point, Spike yelling out. “You ruined everything! You know that Cecily? I was planning on marrying you, planning on proposing the next week. Didn’t know that did you? Had a ring, my Grandmother’s, all nestled away in my pocket that night actually.” He reached down and bit down on her earlobe, whispering his words in her ear. “You were going to be mine. Honeymoon in Bath, and then we were going to leave London behind, live in the country away from society, away from all those damned gits that you submitted to. You were gonna be mine!” he growled, his demon howling at the retribution that had not been paid yet. At his growl, a light went off in Buffy’s head and she pounced, flipping the vampire onto his back and settling down on his pelvis, riding his cock with fervour. “I was gonna say yes!” she hissed. “I dreamed of being Mrs. William Fairchilde. I wanted to be yours to have your children. I wanted fat grandbabies with you, with their blonde hair and blue eyes!” She reached around and gave his balls a sharp twist. “You think I wanted to be a demon? You think I like the fact that I’ve screwed up my life, your life, all because I believed them when they said they would kill me if I didn’t do what they said.” Buffy stilled, impaled on his throbbing prick, enjoying the look of want and need from her vampire, even as a small rivulet began to fall at the corner of his eyes. “When I accepted D’Hoffryn’s offer, Reagan told me you were dead. That you were a vampire. That you were putting railroad spikes through our friend’s heads.“ Buffy lay down on top of the vampire, her head resting on his chest. “I had just narrowly escaped my murder and he offered me something that you already had. Immortality. The best kind of immortality I think, the kind where I get to say when it ends. The pendant’s off and I’m human again.” Spike gave a violent thrust of his hips and flipped them over once more. “Not human, Cecily, don’t want to be human. I like being a vampire,” he growled shifting into his vampiric face and resuming his punishing thrusts into her body. Buffy nodded. “I get that.” She wrapped her legs around his waist and tightened her grip. He leaned down and bit into the flesh of her neck, reopening the scars of previous encounters. Her blood was heavenly, the blood of a Slayer. It tasted so different from her demon blood. Reluctantly he moved away from her bleeding neck, his lips covered in the sweetest red liquid he had ever tasted. One clench of her internal muscles and she had driving him over the edge, his spendings flooding her insides with ease. Spike flopped down onto the bed beside her, pulling out of her wet channel. Gathering him into her arms she rested his head on her corseted chest. “I get that you like being a vampire. But I want you to know that you have the option, one wish I’d be happy to grant. The last wish I’d ever grant. I know you don’t love me anymore, William, but I’ll always love you. I am yours you know, have been since the day we met.” “Mine,” he murmured. “Yes,” she confirmed. “Yours, all yours.” It wasn’t an official Vampire claim, her years of Slayer training told her that much, but it gave her hope, hope that might get her through another day. __________________________________________ Buffy woke alone in bed. It was what she expected really. Spike was probably on the boat to France by now. She threw on a robe and called out to Annette to get her breakfast ready. “Oh and go to the shop and see if you can get a grapefruit and some oranges, I feel like juice.” Annette nodded and curtseyed to her mistress and exited the flat noisily. Robe clad, Buffy walked about the flat well aware that she wasn’t wearing her pendant. I guess my body healed itself after all, she thought to herself. But am I still a Slayer? Buffy picked up a stone that Reagan had taken as a souvenir from the beach at Brighton and crushed it with ease. Well that answers that question, she thought dusting her hands of the rock particles. She helped herself to a cup of tea from the steaming pot that Annette had left on the dining room table. Outside the sun was shining, today would be her last day in London, and there was much to do to prepare. No doubt Giles had told the entire Council by now that Anne Summers and Elizabeth Underwood were one and the same as well as the demon Erixel. Moving into the parlour of the flat, clutching her teacup, Buffy scoured the floor in search of her pendant. She knew that she had dropped it by the door. A thorough search of the area revealed nothing more than the fact that obviously Annette had cleaned up. There was a knock on the door. Slightly startled by the occurrence, Buffy reflected on the idea that it could only be Reagan wishing to say goodbye before departing on her honeymoon with Arthur. Unseemly as it was to answer the door in one’s bathrobe, Buffy threw open the door. The person on the other side of the doorway was not Reagan. “Miss Erixel!” greeted The Immortal, sliding into the flat, without an invitation. Buffy backed up, her hand on her mouth, one question occupying her thoughts, Why is he here? “Hello,” she finally managed to stutter, as he closed the door behind him. “I was in London on business and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to catch up with an old acquaintance,” the words rolling off his tongue. “I thought you said I was young?” she retorted. “Ah yes, perhaps dear demon, but you have an old soul.” “I don’t have a soul, demon remember?” Buffy said, her brain pausing as she said it. But she wasn’t a demon anymore, was she? “Oh, please forgive the expression,” he smiled a toothy grin. “What are you really doing here?” she asked, pulling her robe around her tighter. “I wish to renew our acquaintance,” he said slowly, as if she was a child, not understanding what he had previously said. “Renew our acquaintance?” she repeated, hoping that this sinister feeling she was getting, probably her unused Slayer sense going haywire, begging her to get out of the situation. “Why yes, my dear Erixel. You have intrigued me, fascinated me and I must know you better,” he said stepping into her personal space, causing her to back up even more. He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. She tried very hard to keep the disgusted feeling she felt off of her face, but at the same time she pulled her hand away sharply. The action was accompanied by a scratch along her middle finger. She her hand palm up to inspect it, revealing a deep scratch and droplets of red blood escaping from the wound. Buffy looked up at The Immortal with a question on her face. Before she could voice it though, everything turned black. __________________________________________ tbc... Mwa ha ha ha, I know evil cliffie! BTL tells me I’m a tease...Yep, I’m evil. ~Ariel Dawn

Chapter #14 - Vengeance

Disclaimer: Not mine, but geez I like playing with other people’s toys. Author’s Note: Portanus are something I wrote to be Anya’s favourite Arashamaharian food in Second Youth I’m using them here as well. If you can’t borrow from yourself... The chant Buffy uses to summon D’Hoffryn is adapted from the one Anya used in ‘Something Blue’ *Squishes* to BTL for the fab betaing. You are amazing! Thanks to BTL, Wulfie, spet and Tasha for the fab reviews! __________________________________________ Chapter 14: Vengeance “Madame!” She could hear Annette’s voice in her ear as she regained consciousness. She felt like she had had too much wine. “Madame!” Annette called again. “Oooh! Annette! I’m awake! No need to yell,” she mumbled as she pressed a hand to her throbbing temple. Buffy opened her eyes. She was in her bedroom, covered by her blankets, but naked. Her eyes went wide as she realised what had happened. The Immortal...he...he violated me! she thought with rising panic. Her hand flew to her throat. Her pendant! This would have never happened if she had had her pendant on her. She could have teleported away if her pendant had been in its rightful place. “Annette!” she barked. “Where is my pendant?” “I found it on the floor this morning, so I put it with the rest of your jewellery on the vanity,” Annette answered in a small voice, not use to Buffy being so rough. “Bring it to me,” Buffy ordered. With trembling hands, afraid that she had done something wrong, Annette fetched the pendant and placed it in her mistress’ hands. Buffy fastened the necklace around her neck, silently vowing never to take it off again. __________________________________________ With wobbly knees and a sick feeling in her stomach, Buffy stood and covered herself with her robe. She had vengeance on her mind. With a dozen curt commands to the girl who held a frightened look on her face, Buffy dressed in haste. That sick feeling was not going away and she had a horrible, horrible feeling from it. She had to know right away. She bade Annette pack her things while she ran an errand and left the flat; her was destination was one of three things that were on her mind. Buffy slipped into a back alley away from prying eyes and opened a portal, the burning smell that accompanied the rip in the fabric of this dimension filling the small passageway. She barely cast a glance at her lair in which she stepped into before teleporting away again, finally reaching her intended destination: D’Hoffryn’s audience chamber. Buffy knelt, her face hard and began her chant. “Blessèd be the name of D'Hoffryn. I come in supplication. I bend as the reed in the flow of the rippling wave of vengeance. I come in the name of vengeance to call upon its master. Blessèd be the name of D’Hoffryn, the name whispered in the name of revenge, vendetta, justice, retribution, vengeance.” With a puff of smoke D’Hoffryn appeared. “Erixel! Dear girl how have you been?” asked the blue demon taking her hand and letting her rise up from the floor. His eyes passed over her keenly, assessing his creation. “Are you pregnant?” he asked as his eyes critically examined her, as if seeing something that could not be visually seen. She looked up into his eyes ,her own green orbs glistening with unshed tears. “I was hoping that I wasn’t D’Hoffryn,” she said sadly. He shook his head. “It is most certain that you are my dear. If you didn’t want to be, then why did you take off your pendant?” he asked. “Oh,” she exhaled deeply. “I was having a disagreement with...” “With your vampire, I see, and is he the father of the child?” he inquired with a blank face. “I...I didn’t think vampire’s could have children.” “There are circumstances,” D’Hoffryn told her cryptically. “But something tells me it is not against him that you wish vengeance.” “No, it is not him that I wish to have punished. I was violated, drugged while in my human state by The Immortal, it is him who I wish to revenge myself.” Buffy felt her nails digging into her palms and forced them to relax. D’Hoffryn nodded. “It is your right to ask me, and grounds certainly. But why did you not have your pendant on you?” “It slipped from my grasp while William and I... ...” she trailed off, her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She cleared her throat before continuing on. “My maid picked it up and put it away before I left the bed. I was looking for it when The Immortal came in.” “Hmmm,” contemplated the master of Arashamahar. “So you are uncertain as to who the father of your child is then?” “Yes,” Buffy answered with averted eyes. “Is the wish to centre on the child?” “In a way.” D’Hoffryn nodded again. “State your wish Erixel.” Buffy thought for a moment before raising her head, her words filling the empty chamber. “I wish that it is my child, or the descendants of my child, to cause the pain, suffering, torture and eventual death of The Immortal.” “Wish granted my child,” thundered D’Hoffryn’s voice. __________________________________________ She couldn’t stay in England. She knew that much. She had a feeling that all of Europe wouldn’t be safe for her and her child once word got out that she was pregnant. But she was determined to have the baby, if only to find out whom the father was. D’Hoffryn assured her that the baby was human, as all three parties involved had been human before they were made demon. Buffy herself still did not understand the logic behind this but she trusted D’Hoffyn’s word. A part of her wanted to believe that it was Spike’s child, but her years of Slayer training told her that it was impossible. The dread that filled her could only confirm her belief that the being growing inside her now belonged to The Immortal. Her plan to go to China was put off. It seemed easier if she were in a country that spoke the same language as she did, and she hadn’t mastered Chinese at all. Like most upper crust English ladies of the era, she had a rudimentary grasp of French, and German and some Italian. Chinese hadn’t been on the curriculum at school. From the alley outside the building which housed her flat, Buffy could see a carriage of men in tweed coming to rest outside the front entrance. Buffy stepped out of the portal, using her hand to dissipate the smoke; through the haze she saw a carriage of men in tweed coming to a rest outside the front entrance of her flat. Watchers, she immediately thought, her skin prickling with the need to run. She teleported into the apartment, surprising her maid, who was furiously gathering items into a carpetbag. Buffy grabbed Annette’s hand, stopping her mid step. “We must go now! Annette!” “The bags are in your room Madame,” she answered, her hands trembling within Buffy’s grasp. With a nod, Buffy led the girl by the hand into the bedroom and surveyed the pile of trunks. With a deep breath Buffy opened a portal, burning the carpet and the wallpaper of the room. Frantically the girl disengaged from her mistress’ hand and began pushing the bags and trunks into the portal, the last one through as the door to the flat was pushed in. Buffy grabbed Annette’s hand once more and dragged the girl through. __________________________________________ The pair of women stood in the middle of Buffy’s demon lair slightly out of breath. “Madame?” asked Annette. “Where are we going next?” A question that Buffy had yet to answer for herself. “Where would you like to go Annette?” Buffy asked softly, brushing her hand through Annette’s hair. “Oh Madame, I should very much like to go to Canada. Before my mother died and I was sent to that dreadful orphanage, my mother used to talk about how she would like to see that country.” “Very well Annette, then that is where we shall go next.” __________________________________________ They were settled a few days later in Ottawa, Canada, at a posh rooming house on Sparks Street. Buffy was yet again stuck with another alias, now known to her neighbours as the Widow Fairchilde, found herself extremely happy with Annette’s suggested location. The place was pleasant, the people polite, and the vengeance wishes were not of the bloody variety. “So this is where you are hiding,” came Anyanka’s voice from behind her one afternoon. “Not hiding Anyanka,” said Buffy, turning with a smile. “It’s been only a few days since I last saw you.” “Yes but the rumour mill is ripe with juicy tid bits. As your best friend you should have told me first!” she whined. “I’d like to be very mad at you Erixel, but I just can’t. You are going to be a mother!” Anyanka giggled and hugged her friend, giving her belly a rub. “Is that what they are saying?” asked Buffy innocently after swatting Anyanka away, the two vengeance demons settling comfortably into chairs. “Oh you know that D’Hoffryn can’t keep a secret. But really he couldn’t tell me who the father is,” she added with a suspicious stare. “’Cause I don’t know...” “Why you little slut!” Anya exclaimed. “I’m so proud of you!” “It’s nothing to be proud of Anyanka! I was violated! Raped!” “Oh D’Hoffryn told me about the curse, ingenious aren’t you? Guess that means you won’t be getting rid of it.” “No! I...couldn’t do that Anyanka. I have to see the baby born. I have to know who the father is, regardless of the curse.” “Are you going to tell me who the possible candidates are?” she asked. “And please tell me one of them is your William.” “Yes William, so D’Hoffryn says, could be the father of the child. I just don’t understand how it’s possible...” she trailed off, Anyanka already one step ahead of her. “Your last thought before the pendant left your fingers was what?” asked Anyanka eagerly. “Him, and how we could have had beautiful babies. Oh D’Hoffryn! I did it didn’t I? My last wish before I dropped the pendant...” “I’d give pretty good odds the kid is William’s,” said Anyanka. “So not only did you not tell me you are pregnant, but you failed to mention how you were fucking around with William the Bloody. I told you to get him out of your system, not to have his kids!” “But I can’t get him out of my system Anya. I tried,” Buffy whined, flopping down on the fainting couch in her living room. “And now I have a reminder of William or The Immortal for nine months.” “The Immortal raped you?” asked Anyanka aghast, suddenly cluing in to past information. Buffy nodded solemnly. “Well wow. I wish you weren’t a Vengeance Demon now, Erixel, cause I’d love to pick your brain for wishes right now.” Buffy tried to smile up at her friend. “Oooh! I have more news! I told you the gossip mill was running at a gallop,” Anyanka rambled on. “ The Watcher’s Council is after you, Erixel. It seems that the Demon Erixel has killed the Council’s newest prodigy, Miss Anne Summers some time after the wedding reception of Mr. and Mrs. Price. Imagine that! You’ve been killed again.” “It amuses to no end,” said Buffy sadly. “I’d just like for once to have them tell the truth. I’m not dead, never have been. Centuries from now, someone is going to go through the Council files and think I’m seven different people.” “Seven?” asked Anyanka. “What new identities have you forged lately that I don’t know of? Besides Mrs. William Fairchilde?” Anya stressed. “Don’t think I didn’t have a good laugh when I heard about that one Erixel.” “It’s a civilized society out here too you know, Anyanka,” Buffy replied, even as her smirk refuse to leave her face. “I just couldn’t be my usual self to the people around here. I’m gonna start showing sooner or later. An unwed mother is scandalous.” “In my time an unwed mother was normal. Only nobles got married... Anyway, I’m having a dinner party you must come,” she implored her friend, clutching onto her hand. “Oh, Anyanka... I don’t know...” “Krevlin has promised not to juggle any limbs that are still bloody and Grrentovik is bringing his famous Portanus. Please say you will come! We don’t see enough of you in Arashamahar.” Buffy sighed, staring into the begging brown eyes of Anyanka. “Oh, all right.” __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #15 - Precious Bundle

Disclaimer: Joss owns the BTVS characters. I own Reagan and Annette. Author’s note: Once again I thank the fabulous BTL for the betaing of this story. Living Vengeance has been honoured by so many nominations that I am truly astounded and I grateful to everyone who’s been reading and leaving me feedback! Thanks so much! __________________________________________ Chapter 15: Precious Bundle. The weeks and months that passed found the Vengeance Demon and her maid traversing the country that Annette had been so eager to visit. With each new stop, and with each new town that they lodged in, Buffy sent Reagan an update on where she was and asked for news of what was going on in the lives of the Prices. But no news came, ever. Buffy tried to explain it away, tried to convince herself that Reagan was so busy being a wife and a Watcher, or that none of her letters had actually made it to England, or that the Watcher’s Council was tampering with Reagan’s mail. However, as months passed, Buffy started to feel like Reagan had abandoned her too. Buffy was seven months pregnant and extremely irritable when she finally decided to do something about Regan’s lack of correspondence. From her very ornate house in Victoria, Buffy teleported into the Price’s dining room. In the middle of tea. In the middle of tea Reagan was hosting for the ladies of the Council. Buffy rolled her eyes at her bad luck, as the screaming started and the whole lot of them brought out spell books, crosses, stakes and a few daggers to use against her. She thanked her own presence of mind to teleport in using her demonic face. Among the crowd were quite a few of the faces she recognised from her days in London. Quickly, Buffy grabbed Reagan’s hand and opened a portal, stepping through it with her friend before any of the ladies could react. “Bloody hell Buffy!” screamed Reagan as she wrenched herself out of her friend’s grasp. “Just what do you mean by barging into my home! You could have been killed! You could have been recognised! Oh my God! Are you pregnant?” Buffy slipped out of her demonic face and brushed her newly bleached locks behind her ear. “You haven’t been answering my letters! It’s been months Reagan! What was I to think?” “You were to think to stop sending them to me! The Council is looking for you! The Demon Erixel is first on the list of most wanted demons right now. Even D’Hoffryn is lower on the list than you are. They’ve already sent people to Ottawa and to Calgary trying to locate you!” “Oh,” huffed Buffy as she sat heavily on the bed that adorned her room in Arashamahar. “When did you get pregnant Buffy?” Reagan asked quietly. “Same night you got married,” Buffy answered, but didn't dare look up at her friend. “Who’s the father?” “Well, Anyanka is laying odds that it belongs to William. Krevlin’s of the opinion that it’s the Immortal’s and I am waiting to see what pops out.” She offered a wry smile to Reagan, who quickly sat down and wrapped an arm around her. “Oh Buffy! I’m so sorry. There was talk that the Immortal had fathered a child, the Council is worried what sort of mischief would be going on in Rome once the child was born. I didn’t know you were the mother!” “Ya my life is just a ball.” “You aren’t married to William though? Right?” she asked. Buffy shook her head. Reagan sighed with relief. “I had really hoped that you weren’t...He’s back with Drusilla.” “Well I knew that much,” Buffy replied, but her eager expression told Reagan she was dieing for any bit of information. “They’ve moved on to Venice. And the Slayer has been killed. The new one is in Siam.” Silence filled the room as the two friends stared at the wall, each lost in their own thoughts. “So...How have you been?” asked Buffy as if nothing had happened. “Happy. Arthur is wonderful, I love my home, I love my job. But I miss my best friend,” said the Watcher with hopeful eyes. Buffy gave a sigh, her eyes welling up with tears. “I can’t go back to England Reagan and there is no way I can be a Watcher. I can’t live the life you want me to. I’m a demon.” “I know,” Reagan sniffled. “I just miss my friend.” __________________________________________ As Buffy watched her friend go through the portal, back into her house, she couldn’t help but think that she and Reagan were never going to have the kind of friendship they once had. With a heavy heart, Buffy opened a portal for herself, returning back to her Victoria home. She knew that having a child was going to be much more complicated if she didn’t have Reagan around to comfort her. Her heart broke just a little more at the though that she was on her own. A part of what Reagan said scared her. Watchers were looking for her, and they seemed to know where she was going. She didn’t know if it was because someone was tipping them off or if it was because they had spies everywhere. She was going to have to move again. With a curt command to Annette to get the trunks packed, Buffy sat down on the couch and observed the teenager who had been her constant companion for a little over a year now. She didn’t deserve this transient life. She didn’t deserve to be chased across continents. She deserved a life. A life like one that was taken away from me, thought Buffy. Buffy absently placed her hand on her protruding belly. She had to go somewhere safe for her child, somewhere safe for Annette. But the one place she thought was safe, was not. Home, England, would never be safe again. ____________________________________________ Their new home was Los Angeles. It was bright and warm and Buffy couldn’t think of a better place for her child to grow up. She sincerely wished that she could stay here. But somehow, she knew she would be driven from this place too. The widow, Buffy Summers, recently from England and her maid Annette were an oddity in the posh neighbourhood Buffy had chosen, but an eccentric widow was tolerated in the booming town. “Moved again?” came Anyanka’s voice. Buffy looked up from her position on the couch. She had gotten so large that she felt like a whale, a fat beached whale. “Oh it’s you,” Buffy said with a little wave of her hand. “Oh D’Hoffryn, you are fat!” exclaimed Anyanka. “Oh thank you Anyanka, I didn’t know!” Buffy snapped. “No need to be sarcastic, Erixel” she chastised as she flopped down on the couch beside her friend. “You need to get out of this house! No one has seen you for a month! You haven’t been getting wishes. You've just been sitting here like whale, a fat fat whale!” Buffy exhaled in annoyance. “I haven’t left the house Anyanka because I’m so pregnant. D’Hoffryn told me that I didn’t have to meet my quota for another six months.” “That’s no reason to stay locked in this house.” “Uh, Watchers after me?” Buffy reminded her friend with a stare, as though it should have been obvious why she was sitting on her ass. “And so why are you here?" Anya questioned, waving her hands around dramatically. "You have a perfectly good home in Arashamahar or are you so in love with this dimension that you have forgotten ours?” “No, I haven’t forgotten Anyanka! But I have a responsibility to my child and to Annette. I can’t let them live there.” “Far too attached to your maid Erixel, she’s a human, she’s a liability.” “She has no one else Anyanka!” “And sometimes I wonder if you kept that pesky soul or not," she wondered aloud before she dismissed the thought with a wave of her hand. "Anyways, Filgar is getting married and he told me that he wanted you at the wedding. He didn’t know where to send your invitation.” “So when is his wedding?” “Nowish,” said Anyanka rising to her feet and grabbing Buffy’s hand. “And you are coming. Whether you look like a whale or not.” “Now?” asked Buffy in a slightly panicked voice. “I can’t go now, I’m a mess!” “Oh please, you are much prettier than the bride. No one will notice the bags under your eyes or your swollen ankles. Now up up!” With a groan Buffy rose from the couch, wincing as she put pressure on her swollen ankles. She so didn’t want to go to a wedding, but the firm grip on her upper arm told her that Anyanka was not going to take no for an answer. “It’s time to get you out of this rut, Erixel. Life is so much more exciting when you are actually living it.” ____________________________________________ Buffy stood off to the side of D’Hoffryn’s audience chamber uncomfortable with her body, with the place she was standing, and with the people that surrounded her. Anyanka hadn’t wasted a moment announcing her presence at the wedding and just whom she had managed to bring along with her. Buffy could feel the stares from the various demons that were populating the room. The baby in her belly gave a kick causing her to flinch slightly. At the front of the room, D’Hoffryn was binding Filgar and Tre’fiol together in marriage. The bride’s maids were wearing the traditional burlap and blood larva, and trying to catch the eye of the single demons in the congregation. It was a stark contrast to Reagan’s wedding and she felt supremely out of place. Supremely out of place and in a great deal of pain. She gasped as realisation set in. Her baby was coming now. The crowd of wedding guests turned to look at her, clutching her stomach. She growled at Anyanka, who was standing next to her and lowered herself to the ground. This baby was coming now. She only wished that Spike was there to help her through it. “Erixel? What are you doing on the ground?” asked Anyanka curiously. “Anya!” Buffy screamed, “What does it look like I’m doing?” “Well it looks like you are having a baby actually. Please tell me you aren’t having a baby Rixy! This is an inappropriate time!” ____________________________________________ By the time that Erixiel, Vengeance Demon scourge of neglectful parents delivered her baby, the wedding guests had cleared out. Anyanka and D’Hoffryn had stayed behind to make sure the delivery was a safe one. Anyanka didn’t want to lose her friend nor D’Hoffryn his bragging point. The curses that had issued from Buffy’s mouth had been too good to give up, D’Hoffryn had thought and granted her wishes on the spot, mid labour. The Immortal had developed a terrible case of genital herpes, Miranda Travers-Giles suddenly put on 20 pounds, Reagan Wyndham-Price became pregnant, Anyanka was destined to fall in love with a human, and Spike would abandon his Sire for his human family. D’Hoffryn chastised himself for not paying more attention to the curses that women in labour uttered. Anyanka laid the baby boy in his mother’s arms, words of blessing whispered over the pair of them. “He’s beautiful Rixy,” whispered Anyanka. “He doesn’t look anything like the Immortal.” A wondrous smile lit up on Buffy’s face. She was never more grateful for her friend than right now. “But will the Immortal claim this child as his own anyway?” asked D’Hoffryn. Buffy looked up with horror at her boss. Dozens of scenarios passed through her head, none of them good. “Would he really want to take my little boy away?” she asked with trepidation, clutching at her baby. D’Hoffryn and Anyanka looked at each other for a moment before answering her. That was all the response she needed. Her little boy. Hers and William’s. She needed to keep him safe. And she had to tell William. “Have you named him yet? Or are you going to let the orphanage do that?” asked Anyanka. Buffy looked up at her friend, shocked that Anya would even think of such a thing. Erixel, scourge of neglectful parents was not going to leave her child in the care of an orphanage. “You aren’t seriously thinking about keeping him? Erixel, the Immortal will be at you at once the moment he finds out you have given birth. He may know already. D’Hoffryn knows just what he has in mind for the baby. Probably a sacrifice of some sort.” D’Hoffryn raised his hands defensively. “Hey, I know nothing,” he protested. “I can’t abandon him, he’s a little part of me. He’s a little human, that I thought I’d never see, that I’d never get to have,” cooed Buffy. The baby opened his eyes, and stared at his mother with the bright blue orbs that declared his lineage. He was a Fairchilde alright. Buffy stood with the help of her friends and was escorted back to her lair by D‘Hoffryn‘s minions. She settled on her bed, infant in hand and fell asleep. ____________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #16 - Keeping Silent

Disclaimer: Alas, Spike is not mine. Author’s note: Once again *hugs* to the fab BTL for the beta job. You rock my socks! And if anyone reading this hasn’t checked out BTL’s newest fic ‘Always There’ what are you waiting for??? Thanks to Max, Marzbar, Spike_spetslayer, chanel 5, Payton, ChrissieLinnit, Wulfie and Angie for the fab reviews! ____________________________________________ Chapter 16: Keeping Silent Buffy awoke to the gentle cries of her infant son. With a start she realised that he wasn’t in her arms but being rocked gently by Annette in the far corner of the room. Anyanka must have brought her over, Buffy thought as she sat up on the bed, her body sore from the birth. “Madame!” cried Annette, happily. “He is a beautiful little boy. Monsieur William will be so proud to be the father of such a handsome young man.” Buffy’s heart plummeted. She wanted Spike to see his little boy but she had this horrible, horrible feeling that if any of the Aurelian clan knew of his existence he would be their supper. Her baby was only a few hours old and already he had enemies. “What is his name Madame?” asked Annette, gazing down at the little bundle. “Christopher William Underwood Fairchilde.” “Such a large name for such a little man, perhaps he will grow into it Madame?” asked Annette. Buffy laughed sadly before falling back on her pillows. Annette handed the baby back to his mother. The ideas were swirling around in Buffy’s brain, just what she was going to do now, if she could possibly live without the Immortal’s interference. There was a knock on the door. Buffy bade Annette open the door to reveal a demon, dressed conservatively, looking the part of an older woman. Buffy rolled her eyes, clearly this demon was acting a part. “D”Hoffryn told me to come to help you with the infant,” said the woman with a curtsey. Alarm bells started going off in her head. Buffy clutched her child closer to her breast and got up off the bed. “What is your name demon?” asked Buffy harshly, as she walked towards Annette and the door. “Morhana, great Erixel. Here at D’Hoffryn’s bidding.” “Yes you said that,” noted Buffy. “Well with you here, I guess I don’t need my human maid now do I?” The demon in the doorway nodded. Annette looked up at her mistress with fear in her eyes. “Very well, let me send her back, and you and I can have a discussion about your duties,” said Buffy very business like. Buffy grabbed Annette’s hand and opened a portal. With a coy smile Buffy waved at the demon in the doorway as she stepped through it, Annette’s hand clutched in hers, and did not return. ____________________________________________ The sense of paranoia that Buffy had regarding her little family intruded on her thoughts every waking moment of everyday for weeks afterwards. It had been one look from little Christopher that had convinced her heart that she would never be able to give him up to anyone. Still, the three moves to different cities was beginning to wear on not only her and the baby but also Annette. It was time to make a hard decision. ____________________________________________ Buffy opened a portal into Reagan’s bedroom, burning a hole in the carpet and waking the two humans who had been sound asleep in the ornate bed before her. “Buffy?” asked a sleepy Reagan, sitting up in the bed, Arthur muttering about inconsiderate demons. “Reagan I need a huge favour...” began Buffy. “A favour that couldn’t wait until morning?” asked Arthur. Regan shushed her husband and rose from the bed, night gown clad. A step closer and Regan noticed the small bundle that Buffy held in her hands. “Oh Buffy! Is that...” “Christopher, meet your Aunt Reagan,” introduced Buffy. “He’s so precious, and such beautiful eyes,” said Regan looking at he baby. “He’s William’s isn’t he?” asked Reagan. Buffy nodded. “Unfortunately the Immortal thinks that Christopher is his. It’s not safe for him anywhere.” “Hence the favour?” asked Reagan. “Yes.” William grabbed a hold of Reagan‘s index finger and squeezed. “Oh Buffy, of course I’ll help you, what do you need?” Buffy hugged her friend. “A spell and place to hide.” ____________________________________________ Erixel set the hellhound loose a sinister smile on her lips. The beast had the scent of her victim. Another wish granted, another life taken at her hands. And she liked it that way. She brushed the dog hairs off of her dress for a moment, the quiet sounds of the alley interrupted only by the occasional clatter of carriages. It had been 2 months since she last saw Christopher and she missed him deeply. She loathed travelling alone and as a demon, instead of like the lady she knew herself to be. Annette was with Christopher, a spell protecting them from detection, a glamour disguising their features. Reagan’s spell was ingenious, as most of her spells were. Christopher’s true features would be disguised to any but his blood relatives. Even Annette had to look forward to raising a baby that looked more like her than his mother. Reagan had told her once that her love for William was what kept her just a little bit human. Buffy felt that it was the day that she said goodbye to her son that she became just a little more demonic. Her interpretation of wishes became harsher and farther reaching. And she stopped thinking of herself as Elizabeth. Elizabeth was dead, and there was nothing in her anymore that reminded her of the Slayer she had once been. She lived on Vengeance, as Anyanka did. She avoided The Immortal like the plague and cast a weary eye out for Watchers and Slayers. She made her home Arashamahar, avoiding the trouble of making a new identity for herself whenever she moved someplace new. Anyanka was happy at this turn of events, even if she was mad at Erixel for not telling her the location of the baby. Buffy desperately wanted to trust Anyanka with her secret, but with the way that her friend spread gossip, she could never be certain that this secret would stay hidden. Brushing off the last of the fur on her dress Buffy looked up into the alley, extending her senses for anyone who might use her services in the area. There was a prostitute on the corner, and a street urchin holed up in a crate at the end of this alley. Street urchin it was. Buffy hiked her skirts and stepped over a puddle of D’Hoffryn knows what, only to be stopped by a hand on her arm. Without thinking Buffy repulsed the intruder away, only turning to see who it was after the fact. Vampires. Two of them. And they smelled like the Immortal. Buffy growled a little, as she watched the two half breeds rise from their place on the ground. “Hold still damn it!” said one of them, as he made to grab her again, Buffy using her demonic talents to send him flying once more. Buffy rolled her eyes, intending to leave them in the filth that they were sitting in. She turned, and ran right into the Immortal. “My dear, Erixel, it has been an age since we last spoke,” he greeted, charm oozing off of him. “I see my dear that time has been kind to you. Where pray tell are you keeping our child?” “Straight to the point I see,” replied Buffy stepping away from him, and into the arms of the two vampires. “Perhaps I should make this clear to you. My child is not yours. You are not the father. So leave me the hell alone!” Buffy wrenched her arms out of the vampires’ grasp and teleported away. ____________________________________________ “I’m not going into Italy, Anyanka!” she screamed at her friend. Buffy stood in the middle of her lair, furious that her friend would even suggest such a thing. “Well you don’t need to be so loud about it,” answered the Scourge of men, rubbing her ear. “I know that you don’t want to see the Immortal but Rixy you can’t avoid him forever if he wants to find you.” “And he finds me everywhere. Well everywhere in Europe anyway. One day in a new city and his stupid spies tell him where I am.” “Ok, but I promise this is just for one day! And you have to come, there will be plenty of wishes to go around and it’s such a beautiful idea, I can’t pass it up.” “Did you actually get the mayor’s wife to wish to have all the people her husband slept with at a party populated by demons?” Anyanka nodded furiously. “She’s doing all the arrangements, and the human guest list. I’m bringing the demons.” Buffy sighed, knowing that she was going to cave. “Oh alright, but just one night! One!” Anyanka giggled and bounced away, leaving Buffy with her thoughts. Going to Italy posed more problems than just running into the Immortal. Last she had heard, Angelus, Darla, Drusilla and Spike were in Venice, feasting on gondoliers or some such thing. She had a feeling the Scourge of Europe was going to be on the guest list. And if they were, then she could not put off telling Spike about her blond bundle of joy hiding in the English countryside. She felt guilty enough for not having told him already. ____________________________________________ The ballroom was exquisitely decorated, complimenting the effort that Buffy had put into her dress tonight. Her pale pink gown rustled against her legs, legs on which she had failed to cover up with the required abundance of knickers. She tried to will away the thought that she had dressed for William. She didn’t even know if he was going to be here for sure. She had left her blond hair loose, newly shorn due to an irritating encounter with Krevlin at his latest party. Anyanka was dressed in purple, the bell of the ball. The hostess was kind and completely unaware of exactly what Anyanka had in mind for the evening. It caused Buffy to shiver, the anticipation of so much vengeance, so much suffering for those who deserve it. She was all of four steps into the ballroom when she was approached for a dance by some Italian human. Time to go to work, she thought, letting a radiant smile cross her lips. Two cases of exploding heads, one wish to have their father eaten alive by worms and a one wish to have an aunt haunted forever by a dead dog, and Buffy was in need of some punch. In a corner of the room, the hostess of the event looked disappointed, as there appeared to be no demons present at the party, in her eyes. Buffy knew better though, there were at least 5 vampires in the room, four vengeance demons, and at least fourteen others that Buffy didn’t know or couldn’t identify from a distance. Buffy raised her punch glass to her lips only to have her attention diverted to the doors at the end of the hall open, allowing the entrance of four individuals Buffy knew by sight, and smell. She felt her heart begin to flutter, as she watched Angelus stroll in, Darla on one arm, Drusilla on the other, Spike trailing behind. It had been over a year since she last saw him, that night in London, before the Immortal drugged her, the last time she felt his touch. Her eyes followed him as the four vampires crossed the room. Spike was trying to act cocky and tough, but she could tell that he was disappointed and hurting from Drusilla’s constant attentions to Angelus. He looked on the dark haired vampiress with love, something he hadn’t done with her since they were both human. She missed that look. “Is that your William?” asked Anyanka suddenly appearing by her side. Buffy blushed, instantly hoping that Anyanka didn’t see it. “He is very handsome,” noted Anyanka. “I believe he would give any woman wonderful orgasms. But men are pigs Erixel, you know that. This one, he won’t leave his sire for you, he doesn’t profess his love for you...Why are you still pining after this vampire?” “He was the first man I fell in love with Anyanka, you don’t get over that.” “If you say so Erixel. Are we ready for this party to get going already?” she asked. “Have you got enough wishes out of these fools?” Buffy nodded, unsure of exactly what she wanted to do now. She did know that once Anyanka gave the signal or released the spell or whatever, the room would erupt into chaos. Any good vengeance demon would be leaving post haste. Buffy had to see a vampire about a baby. Anyanka snapped her fingers and whatever it was that was holding the various demons back from killing was suddenly lifted. Screams filled the air, as vampires and demons leapt on their prey. Buffy hitched up her skirts and walked into the fray, intent on reaching her vampire who was feasting on the neck of some old dowager. “Put that down and come with me William,” said Buffy firmly, staring him down, her green eyes daring him to challenge her. Wisely, Spike dropped the dying matron and followed her to a little room to the left of the ballroom. The room looked like it housed the cases of all the instruments the hired band was using and then some, stacks of paper littered the floor, the lone oil lamp flickering in the darkness. Spike raked his eyes over her tight bodice, remembering just what was contained therein. It had been months since he had finally pushed her out of his mind, repressing his feelings given the hurtful information he had learned. He had left London with a heavy heart, knowing that he’d damaged her far more than she’d damaged him. It would have been so much easier if she had not loved him at all, if she had truly thought him beneath her. Spike had arrived in Rome to hear the rumours that the Immortal had gotten the demon Erixel with child. He had killed the demon who told him as well as the fourteen others in the bar. The hurt was far worse than he ever imagined a stake to the heart could have been. She had hurt him again, and too soon after they had been together. So he repressed, went back to Drusilla, his tail between his legs begging her to forgive him. He still had bruises from her forgiveness. The woman before him now didn’t look like she had had a baby recently. She looked like the same seventeen year old he had met in London Society years ago. “Well?” he asked with a tone that was trying to convince himself of his annoyance. “What is so bloody important that you are dragging me away from the feast of the century?” Buffy rolled her eyes. “How about I invite you to the next event Anyanka plans, make up for all that yummy blood you are missing out on right now? I have something I have to talk to you about, so sit down already!” she ordered. Without knowing why he did, Spike sat, sort of eager to hear what was so important. No doubt she had to get back to her love nest with the Immortal. First Dru, now Buffy... He looked up at her, his eyes giving her consent to continue. Buffy took a deep breath. “In London, that last time we shagged...” “You mean that time before you got friendly with the Immortal and decided to have his child? I heard the rumours Buffy! You and the Immortal expecting your love child! Do you think it would hurt me more? You seem to like to do that.” A lone tear escaped and rolled down her cheek, before she reached out and slapped Spike hard across his face. “Shut up! You don’t know anything!” she yelled trying to keep her tears in check. “You couldn’t know anything, you left too fast! If you had stayed he wouldn’t have been able to rape me!” The tears flowed freely down her rosy cheeks. “If you had stayed I wouldn’t have had to hide my son! I wouldn’t have had to hide our son!” “And just why the hell would I believe a lying bitch like you?“ He spat back, holding his cheek. “After everything...” “Everything I’ve done? Try to protect you William? Try to get you to forgive me? Try to have a happy life for myself? Oh ya I can see why you are so angry. Are you so angry that someone violated your sex toy? ‘Cause that’s what it was Spike! I wasn’t even awake for it! He drugged me. The bastard drugged me and raped me and you feel like something’s been done to you?” Spike stared back in shock trying to let everything register. Anger grew at the thought that the Immortal had taken what was his, and unwillingly at that. Buffy was his. Suddenly he grabbed her arm and brought it to his nose. Inhaling deep he caught the scent of five distinct people, only one of which was male. He caught Buffy’s eye, her green orbs piercing into his. “You smell him don’t you? Our baby. He doesn’t smell like the Immortal Spike. He’s perfect and healthy and human. Disposition of an angel. Do you honestly think I could...” Buffy trailed off shaking her head. “Could what?” Spike asked. “You are mine, Buffy...” “Oh?“ she said bitterly. “The one person I ever wanted to have children with...the one man I ever loved and you used me, left me to be with her! Left me to be...If you had stayed I wouldn’t have been separated from our son,” she cried, quieter as she sank to her knees before him, her pink skirts floating out beside her. “O..our son?” Spike asked hesitantly, still unsure of so many things, dropping her hand. “Christopher William Underwood-Fairchilde,” nodded Buffy, wiping her tears with her glove. “The moment he was born, when I looked at his face, he looks like you William. He is the most beautiful wish that ever was granted.” “You wished for him?” asked Spike, sitting back down. Buffy nodded again. “When I dropped my pendant...” Buffy could tell that the gears in his head were racing a mile a minute. Cautiously she took his hand and held it gently in her own as she looked up into his eyes. She steeled herself against what she had to say next. “I know it’s sudden. I know you weren’t expecting this...and...and I don’t expect anything from you or for you to instantly leave Drusilla, though it would be fantastic if you would...I just wanted you to know that you have a son, that we have a son.” She exhaled again, glad that it was over. Spike was utterly speechless, and that was something in itself. He had a son. A son with Buffy. “Why aren’t you with him now? Where is he?” he demanded, his ire rising again. His questions were valid, but she wished he hadn’t asked her. Buffy’s gaze reverted to the floor. “I can’t tell you where he is, Spike. The immortal wants him. Why I don’t know, I’ve told the idiot that Christopher’s not his, but still he follows me. He probably has spies at this party even now.” “I want to see him.” Buffy stood, her soft expression leaving her face. “No.” “What do you mean no?” Spike questioned, standing up. “Buffy he’s mine too. I want to see him.” Buffy shook her head. “No Spike. I won’t put him in danger. He is safe. He will grow up, away from demons, and have the life his parents never had. I’m sorry Spike but I won’t tell you.” “There isn’t anything I can say or do to change your mind?” he asked. Buffy swore her heart stopped for a second. That question opened up so many possibilities. One word from her and he would leave Drusilla, stay with her. She could wish him human, she could crush her pendant and join him in the humanity they lost. They could be a family; Mr. and Mrs. Fairchilde and their son Christopher, country gentility. If only she would tell him where her son was. If only she would speak the words out loud. If only she could risk Christopher’s life. Once upon a time she would have done anything for her William. This was the one thing she wouldn’t do. ____________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #17 - In the Closet

Disclaimer: The pixies tell me that I don’t own the BTVS and ATS characters. However I had a nice little shouting match with them about who owned Reagan and Christopher. This chapter is dedicated to Copykween who was lamenting the lack of a certain unconventional pairing in Buffy fanfiction. Thanks to the awesome Bloodytearsoflife for her continuing wonderfulness and for betaing this chapter. Thanks to wulfie, spet, Fairy's Midwife, Tasha and Marzbar for the fab reviews. ____________________________________________ Chapter 17: In the Closet Buffy swallowed and turned her eyes back to his, a steely resolve setting in. “No,” she answered firmly. “I won’t tell you where Christopher is Spike. Please don’t ask me to risk our son’s life again.” Spike rose from his seat on a cello case and took her hands. Buffy shook her head as he looked at her. “I can’t risk it Spike. He’s just a baby. What if the Immortal wants to use him as a sacrifice? I can’t do it Spike,” she whimpered, bowing her head as the tears came. Spike gathered her up into his arms, holding her tight against his chest as she drenched his shirt with her tears. His cool hands feathered over her back with soothing touches, calming her sobs. It wasn’t fair that he knew exactly how to calm her, how to reach her. Her nails dug just a little further into his shirt, the droplets of blood from his shirt staining her pink dress. With a sigh, Spike crooked his index finger under her chin and tugged her chin up, so that her green eyes met his. The sadness within them was astounding, breaking his undead heart more than he thought possible. Her breath hitched as she struggled to regain her composure, blinking back tears. Slowly his lips enveloped hers in a passionate yet tender kiss. She broke away, after a moment. “Don’t tempt me with what I can’t have Spike,” she whispered, ordering him, on the verge of begging him to stop. “Not tempting, Buffy. Thankful that my son has such a brave mother,” he whispered into her ear, his lips brushing against her skin. Throwing caution to the wind, Buffy leapt into his arms, crushing her lips against his, her tongue begging entrance to his mouth. He had teased her long enough. “I’ve missed you!” she moaned into his mouth. His hand wove into her hair, pulling her against his body, the air between the two demons kept at a minimum. The world and the room, and the demons feasting in the next one, fled from their thoughts as they re-explored each other’s bodies, through corsets and trousers. Spike pulled her to the floor amidst cello cases and stacks of sheet music. Buffy reached for her pendant for a moment, checking to see if it was indeed in place before letting her hands wander once more across the planes of his chest. She ripped at his blood covered shirt, desperate to expose as much skin as possible. Spike pushed up her skirts and settled her on top of his straining cock, only to feel her warm dampness seeping through the fabric of his trousers. She wasn’t wearing any knickers! his inner voice rejoiced. In a swift movement, he had flipped them over, pressing her into the floor, pushing her legs back and seeking purchase on her warm pussy. She gasped as his tongue made contact. The sounds she made drove him wild; she was vocal, and he loved every moment. She was his and his alone, unlike Drusilla, whom he shared with Angelus and occasionally Darla. Buffy was the mother of his child too, something that he had never expected to have since his turning. “Spike!” she moaned, as she writhed against his face. Pressed as she was against the floor and hidden behind instrument cases, Buffy failed to notice the initial entrance of intruders on their tryst. She did notice, however, when she heard a very familiar voice moan in ecstasy. Both Buffy and Spike stopped what they were enjoying to look over at the pair that had intruded. “Oh! Right there! You are a big vampire aren’t you?” came Anyanka’s voice. Buffy’s jaw dropped as she recognised her friend and the demon that was with her. “Angelus?” whispered Spike in recognition of his grandsire, lodged between Anyanka’s thighs, pressing the vengeance demon up against the wall. Anyanka’s moans resumed with fervour. Buffy turned back to her lover’s blue eyes and reached out to undo his trousers. His cock fell at attention poised for entrance. With a snarl, Spike pinned back Buffy’s hands and thrust into her hot core. The closet filled with the two couples writhing and moaning, as screams from the main hall echoed on into the night. __________________________________________ The sun had risen by the time Buffy felt the feeling return to her legs. She stood leaving her vampire sprawled on the ground. “I will never get tired of vampire stamina,” resounded Anyanka’s voice from the other end of the closet. “You and Angelus huh?” asked Buffy as her friend shook out her skirts, trying to free them from wrinkles. “Why not?” answered Anyanka looking down at the sleeping vampire. “He’s much larger than Dracula, and he’s pretty too, in a large man kind of way. I am partial to men with large upper arms.” Anyanka opened a portal and beckoned Erixel through. With a tender look at Spike sleeping soundly on the floor, Buffy stepped through, praying that he didn’t come after her and Christopher. __________________________________________ Buffy teleported into the house she was born, her body coiled with worry. The room was quiet, and the evidence that a child lived there was minimal. Annette was a good housekeeper, that much was certain. “Mummy!” came a shrieking voice, followed by the sound of rapid footsteps. From around the corner of the room, her little boy ran towards her, his blonde curls bouncing as he did, his arms lifting to indicate that he wanted to be picked up. Dropping to her knees, Buffy opened her arms and enveloped her son in a hug. He had grown so much since she last saw him and was looking more and more like his father every time she visited. “How’s my little Christopher?” she asked the three year old seriously. “Very well mummy,” said the little boy, his blue eyes piercing into her own. She had tried to visit when she could, when she felt it was safe to do so. But with her vengeance job taking across the globe and her paranoia about others finding out about Christopher, she erred on the side of caution more often than not. Annette entered the room, now seventeen and grown up. Buffy wondered very much if Annette regretted having to care for William when she could be attending balls and parties, turning the heads of countless boys. “Madame!” greeted Annette with a smile. Buffy picked up her son, and rose to her feet. “Hello Annette,” said Buffy as she gave her maid a hug. “Has this little demon been a good little boy?” she questioned as she tickled Christopher on the tummy. “Oh yes, Madame, he is an angel.” “She isn’t covering for you Mr. Fairchilde?” Buffy asked her son. Christopher shook his head. “Annette! I will be here for a week. You are on vacation!” declared Buffy. “Oh! Madame!” giggled Annette eagerly. “You are too good to me!” She gave Buffy a quick hug of thanks before departing from the room. “Mummy, can we go to Arashamahar?” asked Christopher, barely getting the big word out of his mouth. Buffy looked seriously at her son for a moment. “Perhaps when you are older Christopher. There are Demons that would wish to eat little boys like you.” “Mummy teases!” exclaimed Christopher. Buffy pressed a kiss to her son’s head. If only I did tease, she thought. “Madame, Madame Reagan sent you a letter,” Annette factually informed her, as she brought in tea for her mistress and milk for Christopher. Annette set out the cups. “The Vicar would like to discuss with you the upbringing of your son...He is a tedious old man who is busy with everyone’s business...” ranted Annette. Buffy plopped her son down into a chair next to the tea table, chuckling as Annette went off on the Vicar who just wouldn’t leave their little family alone. The cover story that Reagan had provided her and Christopher had been detailed, but didn’t make them impervious to gossip. Buffy was supposed to be Mrs. Blood, an invalid widow with a young son, Christopher, living off the deceased Mr. Blood’s fortune. In reality, they were living off of Buffy’s original fortune in Buffy’s family home. The home that held so many horrible memories for her. This was the house in which her family was killed. The fact that the Vicar wanted to see Mrs. Blood in person was a problem. Buffy sipped her tea in contemplation of the problem. Her solution...there must be someone wishing vengeance on the vicar of their little village. Annette handed Buffy Reagan’s letter to Mrs. Blood. Buffy set down her tea cup and opened the letter eagerly, stopping only to wipe a crumb off of Christopher’s cheek before reading. Dearest Mrs. Blood, It has been an age since last we corresponded and even longer since you last visited. I write to announce the birth of our second child, Amelia Elizabeth Wyndham-Price. Mr. Price, our dear Wesley and I are ecstatic on the new arrival. Can we anticipate the visit of our dearest friend to make this joyful period in our lives complete? Your friend, Reagan Wyndham-Price. Buffy contemplated it for a moment before smiling down at her son. “We cannot go to Arashamahar Christopher, but perhaps you would enjoy a visit to your Aunty Reagan’s?” Christopher clapped his hands happily. __________________________________________ Buffy left Annette behind, determined that the girl should have a proper vacation without having to worry about Christopher. They travelled by train, a short ride into London and arrived on Reagan’s doorstep as if they were just normal visitors. The housekeeper ushered them inside, directing the carriage driver to deposit their trunk in a spare bedroom. “Buffy!” called Reagan as Buffy and Christopher were directed into the parlour of Reagan’s house. Reagan had aged. She was showing her twenty-nine years, still beautiful, but clearly a mother of two. Buffy hugged her friend. “Is this Christopher? My goodness you have grown into a big boy!” gushed Reagan, picking the three year old up. “Would you like to see your cousins?” Reagan asked the child. Christopher nodded, his curls falling into his eyes. Reagan led the pair up the stairs to the nursery, whispering for Christopher to be quiet as they entered. With awe, Christopher beheld the two younger children sleeping in their cribs. With a smile he turned to his mother. “Mummy? Can I have a baby too?” Buffy nearly melted at her son’s comment. “Maybe some day Christopher, when Mummy and your Papa see each other again.” Christopher pouted a moment before being distracted by Reagan and a new toy. Christopher had never met his father. In the three years since she had told William of Christopher’s existence, he had never sought her out, he had never expressed interest in finding his child, just like she had asked. She didn’t know if he had not pressed her further because he respected her wishes or because he had no interest in seeing his son. It had been a few years now and she hadn’t run into the Immortal’s henchmen in a long while. “Reagan?” Buffy started before getting cut off by her friend. “He’s in Austria with the rest of them. Still with Drusilla,” said Reagan before Buffy could finish her sentence. “Oh.” “He’s not the ideal father for Christopher to grow up emulating you know,” Reagan whispered so that Christopher wouldn’t hear. “Your father wasn’t the purest of souls either Reagan. Oubliette? Ring a bell?” Reagan looked contritely at her. “Sorry, you are right. I worry...William is a vampire Buffy! What kind of message does that send to your son?” “I had hoped that it would send the message that his father loves him,” she replied with a sigh. “I just couldn’t bear it if William didn’t care at all about his son.” __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #18 - Double Cross

Disclaimer: Annette, mine. Christopher, mine. Reagan, mine. Spike and Buffy, not mine. Got it? Author’s note: *Hugs* and thanks to the fab Bloodytearsoflife for being such a great beta. Thanks to Copy, CM, spet, wulfie, Tasha, Marzbar and BTL for the fab reviews! ____________________________________________ Chapter 18: Double Cross Friday morning came without incident. Christopher was enjoying the company of his cousins immensely. Buffy felt bad for her son, cooped up in the countryside without companions his own age in an effort to get him away from the threat of the Immortal. It was during their morning tea that Reagan was brought a letter by her housekeeper, a normal everyday occurrence in the Watcher’s house. The older woman curtseyed as she handed the letter to the lady of the house. Buffy put down her teacup, watching Reagan open the letter, as its arrival had interrupted their conversation. Reagan read the letter impatiently, her face turning a shade or two paler as she read to the bottom of the note. The Watcher looked up with terrified eyes at her friend, her mouth agape, and handed the letter to Buffy without a word. With tentative fingers Buffy reached for the letter, wondering what it contained that frightened her friend so. Madame Reagan, I am bade write this note to you. I am the prisoner of the Immortal. He has ordered me to inform you that it is my life for the life of Madam Erixel’s child. Madame, please, I would rather die than let the child suffer for my stupidity. Please tell Madame Erixel that I am sorry. Annette Labiennemorte Buffy gasped, raising a hand to her mouth as she shook her head. Standing up, she gently bit her lip as she began to pace. “What are you going to do?” asked Reagan. “Get her back.” ____________________________________________ The wheels in Buffy’s brain were turning. The Immortal was not a demon capable of teleporting, he had to deal with the transportation system of the age as well. Annette couldn’t be in Italy yet. They were still in England. She had to make a strike against the Immortal and get Annette back to safety. She was going to need help. Leaving Christopher in Reagan’s capable hands, Buffy sucked in a breath and did what she had been hoping she would never have to do. She teleported into Austria. Into Drusilla’s bedroom. Exhaling, Buffy surveyed the room that was illuminated only by a dying fire’s fading embers. A corpse lay on the floor at her feet, a gaping hole where the heart should have been. Buffy rolled her eyes and stepped over the body, careful not to get blood on her dress. The room was dark, foreboding, and stank like a dozen rotting corpses were lying undisturbed under the floor boards. She wrinkled her nose at the smell, wondering just how a vampire with enhanced smell could tolerate the horrible stench. The room was cluttered by pieces of porcelain dolls, chains, puddles of blood, urine, shards of glass, and torn fabric. The room had no window and the only furniture in the room was a unmade bed, its sheets desperately needing to be washed, and a table, stained with blood, and showing signs of misuse; there were punctures and gashes that tore up the wood. This was her play room, Buffy reasoned as she saw for the first time the chains on the walls. But she didn’t come here for Dru or her games. She needed Spike. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye she saw movement. A body she had mistaken for a corpse twitched. Buffy cringed, hoping that it was just post mortem twitching and that the unfortunate soul who had been tortured and bled by the crazed vampire her William was hopelessly in love with was dead. “Buffy?” Buffy squinted into the darkness, making out the form of her beautiful William ravaged and tortured and laying in a puddle of blood. “Spike?” The form moved closer, into the light from the fireplace’s glowing embers, revealing the beautiful face of her vampire. She crouched beside him and cupped his face with her hand, careful of the open wounds marring it. “What did she do to you?” she asked tentatively. A groan came from the vampire. “Nothing more than she usually does. Beautifully destructive she is.” Buffy stood up annoyed. “And if I didn’t need you right now, I’d leave you with your bloody destructive princess,” said Buffy with a sneer. “The Immortal has Annette. He wants to trade her for Christopher.” She willed the tears back. Now was not the time. “Christopher?” asked Spike, settling back on the floor with a moan of pain. “Your son.” In the darkness Buffy could hear rather than see Spike try to get up off the floor despite his multiple injuries. “Bloody hell,” he cursed as he fell to the floor once again. Buffy rolled her eyes. “Dare I ask just why I find you tortured and useless?” “Lost one of her bloody dolls,” he moaned, finally reaching a kneeling position. “Bloody wish this vampire healing thing would kick in already,” he muttered. “Wish granted,” Buffy said, slipping into her demonic guise for a moment before helping Spike to his feet, fully healed. “Thanks pet.” He smiled, blue eyes gazing into green. Buffy looked away from him, still mad, and annoyed, and worried. Without a word she opened a portal to Arashamahar and stepped through, leading Spike in with her. ____________________________________________ “You’ve been to the Immortal’s home before right? To get back Darla and Drusilla?” asked Buffy as she walked into her Arashamahar, lair tugging Spike through the portal. “Years ago,” admitted Spike. Buffy nodded. “Be right back,” she said before opening another portal and disappearing. Spike looked about the room for a moment noticing the changes in the lair since his last visit. The room looked like it was more lived in, there were clothes scattered about the room, various boxes and ribbons littering the floor. But the item that caught his attention was a small picture that sat by the bed, of a little boy with curly blonde hair. His son. Christopher. Spike reached out to touch the picture, his hands shaking at making contact, making it real. All those years ago, when Buffy had told him about his son and how she would never let him know where he was, he had been devastated and relieved at the same time. What kind of father could he make to a human boy? What would Drusilla do when she found out about him? It seemed to Spike that his son was in more danger from Drusilla than the Immortal. There was a burnt smell as Buffy came back through a portal. Spike turned to see her clutching a pile of clothes at him. “These are Arthur’s, you will have to make do. I can’t have you meeting our son naked,” she reasoned as she thrust the clothes at him. Spike dropped his hand that was still reaching for the picture frame, and grabbed for the clothes Buffy offered. The real thing was better than a picture any day. ____________________________________________ Fully clothed, Spike stepped out of the portal that Buffy led him through. She dropped his hand as soon as they entered the posh sitting room, in which sat Reagan, who was holding the same little boy that he had seen in the picture in Buffy’s lair. “Mummy!” shouted the little boy, launching himself out of Reagan’s arms and into Buffy’s. “Christopher! I was just here! No need to yell as if I’d been gone for weeks,” chastised Buffy, picking up her son, kissing his cheek. She turned a wary eye to the vampire that was standing off to the side of the room, observing them. “Christopher? I have someone for you to meet,” she said quietly. “He’s gonna help me get Annette back.” The little boy turned his head from his mother’s chest to look at the stranger in the room. Slowly Buffy put him down and pushed him in Spike’s direction. Spike crouched low to the ground carefully looking Christopher in the eyes. “Christopher, this is William,” said Buffy, hesitating from calling Spike her son’s father. Spike held out a hand to shake, which Christopher gripped politely. “A pleasure,” observed the little boy. “Are you a demon too?” Spike was caught of guard by the question, but nodded. “A good demon?” This time Spike shook his head. He wasn’t a good demon and refused to lie about it. Christopher nodded in understanding before turning to his mother. “He looks like me.” Buffy felt a tear trickle down her face and she nodded her head. “Christopher?” came Reagan’s voice from the couch. “This is your Papa.” Buffy turned to look at her friend sharply. “Really?” asked Christopher. “Have I ever lied to you sweetheart?” asked Reagan. “No, Aunty Reagan,” answered Christopher. Christopher turned to look at Spike again and tilted his head in contemplation of this new information. It was a purely Spike move. Buffy wiped away the tears rolling down her face. Christopher stared for a moment, finally opening his mouth. “Papa? Will you bring Annette home?” It sent a swell of pride through Spike’s chest to hear Christopher call him ‘papa’ and with a smile, Spike nodded. Christopher nodded and went back to his Aunty Reagan, sitting beside her on the couch. “Good. Annette took away Mr. Bananas and I don’t know where she put him,” commented the little boy. “Mr. Bananas?” asked Spike. ____________________________________________ Buffy stood in the street before The Immortal’s house in Rome. Just standing there, waiting for something, anything really. Her plan, complex as it was, was dependant on the Immortal’s interest in her presence on that street. Which he didn’t seem to be taking an interest in right now. “Come on you smug bastard, where the hell are you?” she shouted into the street. As if he had been planning a stage worthy entrance, the Immortal appeared from a second story window of his house. Gracefully perched against the iron railing, he looked down on the Vengeance Demon that stood in the street. “I do not see my son, Erixel,” boomed out his voice. Buffy threw up her hands in exasperation. “He’s not your son, you freak! I have a picture that proves it! Let Annette go! Why do you want my son? I swear to you he isn’t yours!” The sick sound of the immortal’s laughter filled the courtyard. “It matters not to me, Erixel, just who’s son he is. It is important to my associates that he is my son. What they don’t know won’t hurt the endeavour.” Buffy let her mouth hang open aghast at the cold indifference the Immortal portrayed. “Life is cheap Erixel, you can always have another. Give this one to me and save your little maid.” ____________________________________________ Spike crawled up through a sewer grate and into the stately mansion of the Immortal with a task in mind. He snapped the necks of a few random minions before reaching his intended target. Throwing back the doors to an ornate armoire, he spied what Reagan had sent him to disturb. Glowing and looking rather delicate, was a carved ivory knife. Tentatively, Spike reached out to grasp the weapon, his fingers making contact with the polished bone. In an instant, the spell that had been guarding his presence from the psychic security system that the Immortal had in place all over his house was breached. Spike found himself surrounded by more than a few random minions. It was what he had been expecting, that carved knife held the spell that made it impossible for anyone to teleport in to the house. “How’s about take me to your leader?” spat the cocky vampire as they enclosed the space around him. Grabbing him by the shoulders and arms, Spike was led bodily into the presence of the Immortal. Spike’s fists clenched as he imagined how good it would feel to bash the pompous git’s face in. “William!” greeted the Immortal with a smile. “How good of you to come visit me at my home. You must understand that it is a very inconvenient time at present.” Spike nodded, trying to keep his temper in check. “Thought you’d want to discuss the boy. He’s yours you know. The bitch has been lying to you since the birth. Seen the kid with my own two eyes, he’s not mine. Bloody hell, everyone knows vampires can’t have children, the normal way. I wanna see the little bugger bleed and his mother too.” Spike smiled his best evil smile at the demon in front of him. ____________________________________________ Buffy looked up at the Immortal, who was suddenly distracted by something going on in his house and teleported away. ____________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #19 - Comings and Goings

Disclaimer: Joss owns the BTVS characters, I own Reagan, Arthur, Annette, and Christopher. Author's note: *hugs* and *squishes* to the fab BTL for the great betaing. Thanks to Chanel 5, Tasha, CM, Marzbar and Spike_spetslayer for the fab reviews! _____________________________ Chapter 19: Comings and Goings The vampire looked up at the Immortal with a smirk. “You would willingly give up the love and respect of this woman, this demon? Are you not intimate with her on a regular basis?” The Immortal questioned as he eyed Spike. Spike scoffed. “I don’t know where you get your information from mate. Not seen the bird in years. Then she shows up, interrupting my meal, carting me along to help get back the bit there,” said Spike glancing at Annette who was lying on a couch, deathly still. “Always wanted a taste of the bit, got a pure scent to her, you know?” The Immortal chuckled at that. “So you are willing to give up the boy for the girl?” “It’s a fair cop, you get the kid, I get the girl and the bitch demon gets what’s coming to her,” answered Spike. “I would wish to believe you William,” the Immortal replied after a moment. “Unfortunately, I cannot in good faith complete this deal you propose. The girl is dead.” Spike looked in Annette’s direction taking in her body lying still on the couch. She looked like she was sleeping. He should have figured out that she was dead sooner, the lack of resounding heartbeat now making itself known in his brain. He could now see how the colour of her cheeks was fading. He must have only just snapped her neck. “I admire your dedication to Erixel’s unhappiness, you seem to have been pursuing that endeavour faithfully for many years.” He was too late. Annette was dead. The Immortal’s words held no meaning for him anymore. Spike felt the Immortal’s hand on his back, leading him out of the mansion. Without question or protest, Spike let the man escort him out into the empty street. _____________________________ Reagan, who had been using a spell to see through Spike’s eyes back in England, began to cry as Spike passed Annette’s body on the couch. She turned to face her friend who had teleported back only moments before, her tears apparent on her face. “No!” gasped Buffy as she collapsed to the floor with her grief. “Annette!” At the other end of the room, Anyanka sniffled before teleporting away, returning moments later through a portal, Annette’s lifeless body cradled in her arms. _____________________________ The conspirators stood solemnly around the little family cemetery outside of the home that Christopher had lived so much of his short life in. Next to the graves of her mother, sister and father, Buffy buried Annette. Another member of her family laid to rest. Buffy looked up through her tears to see Spike holding Christopher in his arms possessively. As much as he was loathed to admit it, Buffy knew that the evil vampire was in pain. He had liked or at least respected Annette and now he knew that Christopher would have to be hidden again. The only one of their number that didn’t attend Annette’s funeral was Anyanka. Buffy really couldn’t blame her. A Vengeance Demon’s life revolved around the potential of life taking. Annette’s death, to Anyanka must have seemed just another occurrence. Hell, Anya had warned Buffy about getting too attached to the child. Yet life was about attachments. Reagan put a hand on Buffy’s shoulder as the Vicar said the last words over Annette’s cold body. The Vicar was acting judgmental to all of them. He didn’t know the circumstances of Annette’s death but he had figured out that the whole situation had been a lie. Buffy certainly wasn’t an invalid and it looked like Mr. Blood was in fact alive. She just wanted the insipid man to leave them alone in their grief. Buffy wondered if the Immortal would leave them alone for a while: if she and Christopher would be left alone for a while. With a disproving look, the Vicar left the gravesite. Slowly, Reagan led Christopher and Spike back into the house. Alone in the mist Buffy knelt at the grave ready at last to give Annette the farewell she deserved. “Oh Annette,” began Buffy. “I’m so sorry! You didn’t deserve this! I keep thinking that this is all my fault! If I hadn’t taken you from the orphanage...If I hadn’t taken off my pendant...If I hadn’t kept Christopher...none of this would have happened. You could have had a great life with children of your own, with friends and family that didn’t dimension hop.” Buffy wiped away a tear before continuing on. “I’m going to miss you, Christopher will too. I don’t know what we will do without you. You held our lives together you know. The Vicar thinks badly of us all, for lying to the whole village, for not going to church, he doesn't know the truth. The Immortal will pay for this Annette. I won’t let him get away with this.” Buffy stood up determined to seek revenge on what the Immortal had done. _____________________________ D’Hoffryn stood shaking his head at her and Buffy couldn‘t believe it. “Why not? You know what he did! You knew Annette! How can you deny me a wish?” she cried. “You know the rules Erixel. This thing for which you wish vengeance was not done to you. Annette was an innocent bystander and she is dead. She cannot have her vengeance wish granted.” “Is there no way I can...” Buffy trailed off. “You know the rules Erixel,” stated D’Hoffryn once more. “Follow them.” Buffy stood up from her kneeling position on D’Hoffryn’s audience chamber floor and nodded. _____________________________ Buffy returned to her childhood home to see Spike and Christopher playing on the floor, Reagan looking on with a smile and a stake at the ready. The trio looked up at her entrance. “Did D’Hoffryn grant your wish?” asked Reagan. Buffy shook her head sadly. “I have to follow the rules,” she muttered, sitting down on the couch beside Reagan. “So?” started Reagan. “Follow the rules. I wish that the Immortal would experience the pain he caused Annette before she died once a day every day for the rest of his immortal life,” said Regan with an evil smile on her face. Buffy shifted into demonic guise. “Wish granted,” said the demon before slipping back into human face once more. “Good wish Reagan.” “Thank you,” said Reagan. “It doesn’t make me feel better though.” “Papa? Make a wish?” asked Christopher. Spike looked up from his son’s face to that of the boy’s mother and shook his head. “No. I won’t be using your powers Buffy. Not ever again.” “Got you all healed up from your last torture session with your beloved Drusilla didn’t it?” said Buffy bitterly. “Please don’t fight in front of Christopher,” begged Reagan but neither one listened. “You are just lucky she hasn’t figured out that I’m not there. The moment she calls to me I’m gone, whether you send me back the way you took me or if I have to take a boat back to Austria. I never asked to be taken away or to be healed.” “No, you wished it,” observed Buffy. “You bloody tricked me is what you did!” he bellowed. “I did no such thing! And you know it!” Reagan got up off the couch and picked up Christopher, taking him out of the room with her, Spike watching them go before turning back to the mother of his child. “Three years! Three years and not a bloody word about anything. He’s mine too you know! I would have done anything to see him!” Buffy‘s eyes widened, thought swirling in her mind. “Is that why you came to help with Annette? To see Christopher? Didn’t you care about her at all?” asked Buffy her voice wavering. Spike stood up from the floor suddenly and advanced on her seated position. “Bloody hell of course I did. I liked the bit! Seeing the boy was just another incentive.” Buffy scoffed tearing her eyes away from his. “Well you’ve seen Christopher, shouldn’t you be off returning to Drusilla and the rest of them? Your vampire family is much more important than us. Go!” Buffy stood up from the couch with every intention of leaving the room. She couldn’t bear to be in his sight anymore. Spike reached out and grabbed her arm. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” he yelled. “Oh it’s an old argument Spike! We’re at an impasse. We both know it. You won’t leave Drusilla and I won’t put Christopher in danger. The moment you walk out of this house, Christopher and I, you won’t be able to find us. It‘s almost enough for me to start hating you.” Spike looked back at her in shock but Buffy continued on, her rage feeling better than the sorrow she felt at her maid‘s death. “Maybe I should move on, take up with some nice demon boy, someone who could actually be a good father to Christopher? I wonder what you’d do then?” “Tear off the git’s head, is what I’d do,” he muttered, still holding her arm, his grip becoming tighter as time passed. “You are mine Buffy.” Buffy shook her head in disbelief. Then with a turn and tilt of her head she exposed her neck to him. “Make it official then,” she said looking directly into his blue eyes. Spike let go of her arm in a flash. His eyes bored into the skin on her neck. There were still the scars from his previous bites. He could smell the tears she had yet to shed, for Annette, for the injustice of it all. Still he couldn’t do it. She saw his hesitation and withdrew her offered flesh. “That’s what I thought” she said softly, her voice equally as soft as she left the room. “At least say good bye to your son before you go.” _____________________________ Spike followed his nose to Christopher, playing with his toys in his room, his Aunt Reagan watching over him. Noticing Spike’s entrance, Reagan got out that stake she carried about with her. “You won’t need that pet,” said the vampire, advancing on his son. “Oh no? Not going to break Christopher’s heart, like you did Buffy’s?” “She broke mine,” Spike replied coolly. “Yes she did, seven years ago. Christopher hasn’t done any such thing.” Spike crouched down beside the playing toddler and ruffled the boy’s curly blond locks. “Papa?” asked Christopher, his blue eyes shining hopefully. “It’s time for me to go bite size.” “Why?” asked the child his eyes wide. Spike really didn’t have an answer for the that one. “Just do, I suppose.” “Will you come to visit?” asked Christopher. “Someday, if your Mum agrees to it.” Christopher nodded. He was used to having to wait until Mummy said it was ok to do things. Carefully Christopher wrapped his arms around his vampire father and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Spike arms snaked around his son’s body and returned the hug. From across the room Reagan let a tear fall from her cheek, clutching the stake in her hand. _____________________________ Holding Christopher’s hand Buffy led her child into Arashamahar. She really hadn’t a clue how else to do this. There was nowhere on earth was safe for either of them. It was a last resort: she hadn’t wanted Christopher growing up in a demon dimension but she was left with no other options. She was really hoping that D’Hoffryn had some sort of day care provider in mind. _____________________________ Fresh from a particularly successful day of vengeance Buffy materialised into D’Hoffryn’s audience chamber covered in blood and exhausted. All she wanted to do was have a bath and eat dinner. But the sight of what was going on in the audience chamber made her cringe. “Christopher William! What the bloody hell are you doing?” The boy in question poked his eight year old head out from behind D’Hoffryn’s throne, his hands covered in a sticky substance and his hair sticking up in odd directions . “Mum! You’re ruining it!” protested Christopher. “Ruining what pray tell?” she asked, her hands on her hips, her foot tapping. “D’Hoffryn’s project,” explained the boy. “And just what project is that?” asked his mother. “It’s a new game! He’s hoping that it will make Krevlin stop juggling body parts! You know he asked me to lend him my hand yesterday? As if it would just reattach!” Buffy rolled her eyes. “It’s time for dinner Christopher, wipe your hands off and let’s get going. Where is D’Hoffryn anyway?” Buffy asked looking around the room. “He went to deal with a spy, again. Honestly mum, when will the Immortal leave me alone?” “I don’t know Christopher, I really don’t know.” _____________________________ “I won’t go!” protested the eleven year old boy with bluer than blue eyes. The others in the room looked at him sympathetically. They were sitting in the Price’s sitting room, Arthur, Reagan, Buffy, ten year old Wesley, eight year old Amelia, Christopher and the baby of the Price family, six year old Annette. “Christopher, we have been over this, you can’t live in Arashamahar your whole life, you aren’t a demon, you are human, just like Wesley and Amelia and Annette. To get by in this world you need to go to school. I had to when I was your age,” said Buffy. “And so did your father.” “Well he isn’t here is he?” snapped Christopher. “He’s off with Drusilla somewhere, feasting on the general populace. Why can’t I be a demon or a vampire?” “Because then we’d have to stake you,” said Amelia with a smirk. “Amelia Elizabeth!” chastised Reagan. “Your uncle Arthur has got you a very nice place at Eton,” continued Buffy. “Both he and your father went there.” Christopher crossed his arms and pouted. _____________________________ tbc...

Chapter #20 - Rebellions and Wars

Disclaimer: The Characters of BTVS and ATS are the property of Joss Whedon and various other people/entities. I am only using them for fun and entertainment only. This is the sad reality that hits me when I wake up from my naked Spike filled dreams. Author’s note: Some dialogue taken from ‘Fool for Love‘ and ‘Selfless.’ Once again fab thanks and squishes to Bloodytearsoflife for the great betaing. Thanks to Tasha *hugs fellow misfit* Chanel 5, Marzbar, idk, wulfie and spet for the fab reviews! __________________________________________ Chapter 20: Rebellions and Wars Buffy walked through the crowd of running people speaking in what seemed like a million different languages. This was her doing. This little rebellion wouldn’t be going the way that the Chinese wanted. Christopher was sixteen and at a boarding school in England. Various wards and spells protected the school, as over half the students were in some way related to a Watcher and the Council’s best recruits usually came from the school. Between school holidays Buffy traveled the globe looking for children to grant wishes for and she had always wanted to go to China. Now here she was and the wishes were going well. She was thinking about heading to Hong Kong next, this part of China had lost its allure. Plus, she had just spied the Slayer. The last time she had seen Reagan, the Watcher had told her that the current Slayer was in China, but that was all. It was different thing entirely to actually see her in action. And see her in action Buffy did. One morning, just before dawn, Buffy had spied her, fighting some demon or other and doing a very good job of it. She missed it really, the whole fighting for good thing. She certainly wasn’t doing that kind of thing nowadays. It had been hard to tell her son what she actually did when he wasn’t around her. Wesley’s parents were warriors for good. She was one of the things that they killed. Just like his father. Buffy had long since stopped asking Reagan where he was. She was fully confident that Reagan knew and would tell her the moment she asked. It was just too hard. They had parted on such bad terms when Annette died. She liked to convince herself that she didn’t care, that he could do what he wanted and she wouldn’t give a damn, but she knew that to be a fallacy. She knew that if he showed up today and asked her for anything she wouldn’t be able to deny him. Except where Christopher was concerned. Reagan had told her that Angelus had disappeared from the Council’s all seeing eyes. No one knew why he had abandoned his Childer and his Sire. There were even rumours that Angelus was dust. Buffy rolled her eyes at that one. As much as she hated to admit it, he was far too cunning to let just anyone dust him and if it wasn’t a Slayer who claimed that honour, then she suspected that Angelus was undead and well somewhere on the face of this earth. But the idea of Angelus alone out there, without his Childer, was a splash of cold water on Buffy’s deep seeded desires. Spike and Drusilla alone, together, taking comfort in each other. It had seemed that as long as Angelus was around to muck up Spike and Dru’s alone time, she had a chance. She had to admit to herself that that chance was gone. The chaos on the streets was a brilliant cover for anyone to lose themselves in, Buffy included. As much as she was proud of starting this little rebellion with a wish, she wanted to just get away from her life for a while, sit on a beach somewhere without a care in the world enjoying the company of a beautiful man who’s desire was to please her. The trouble was that no matter what she tried, she couldn’t make her mind’s eye picture anyone else in that role except Spike. Buffy turned a corner out of an alley and into what looked like a courtyard of a Buddhist temple. Organized religion held no meaning for her since she became a demon. She was aware of far too many hell gods, god gods and various other beings. Buddhism however? The idea behind it seemed like a valid idea. Too bad this temple was on fire. With a realisation that startled her, Buffy shook her head to wonder exactly what was she doing pondering rubble and things that made little difference in the long run. Stepping over a burning pillar Buffy turned to head back out from the courtyard, only to be stopped by the sound of fighting. Her curiosity got the better of her, even though her demon senses screamed that the Slayer was nearby. An opportunity to watch her fight once more was too good to pass up. Keeping to the walls and skirting over rubble and broken furniture, Buffy treaded closer to the sounds that had her so intrigued. The Slayer was fighting a vampire. That much was clear. The two beings moved swiftly about the space landing blows, parrying thrusts. They were graceful: they were deadly. Buffy couldn’t help but wonder who would win. As the vampire threw the Slayer aside his rash impetuousness getting the better of her skilled technique, Buffy caught of glimpse of the vampire in question and gasped. She covered her mouth at once, hoping that neither of them had heard the sound. Buffy peered over her hand, looking at the vampire that had made her gasp. He hadn’t changed in the thirteen years since she had last seen him. Not that she had changed either. Spike was fighting the Slayer and it looked as if he was going to win too. With awed eyes, Buffy watched Spike drain the life out of this Chinese slayer. She felt pity for the girl, her life so short, so violent, so meaningless, when she alone could never slay all the evil in the world. Spike tossed the girl to the ground and licked his lips. In some sick and perverted way Buffy wanted it to be her blood on his lips but her weird fantasy was cut short as her rival entered the courtyard. Drusilla was staring her down. Buffy had been so careful to keep hidden throughout the fight now only to have the crazed vampiress stop her cold in her tracks with a look. Spike of course was only looking at his kill, his conquest. Buffy swore that Drusilla smiled at her before gliding up against her childe, pressing her body possessively against his. “Oh, Spike, look at the wonderful mess you've made. That's a Slayer you've done in. Naughty... wicked... Spike.” Drusilla held out her hand, turning his chin towards her. Buffy shook off the shivers that were coming off her body in waves. Drusilla knew that she was there and she was going to seduce and fuck Spike right before her eyes! “You ever hear them saying the blood of a Slayer is a powerful aphrodisiac?” asked Spike of his Sire, his voice heavy with lust. Buffy had never heard that little saying but she knew that Spike had felt the effects of Slayer blood before, her Slayer blood. Buffy tore her eyes away from the scene before her. “Here, now... have a taste,” purred Spike in a voice she wished that he only used with her. Her resolve breaking, Buffy turned away from the pair of vampires and teleported away. China had definitely lost its allure. __________________________________________ The next holiday from school for Christopher came none too soon. China was a disappointment. England and her family was familiar. Christopher was a handsome young man with great prospects. He had already decided to go into law and someone had offered to get him a post at Wolfram and Hart should he pursue that avenue. Buffy had to admit that he was perfect for it. He already knew about the demon realm, growing up in Arashamahar for the most part and who would dare make trouble for the son of one of the most feared vengeance demons of the age? There was the potential that the law firm would in return keep him safe from the Immortal as well, if he should be an asset to their endeavours. Reagan was against it. “You cannot seriously be considering this Christopher! Wolfram and Hart are evil personified. The Council’s position is most firm. I cannot sit idly by while you put yourself into a position that will lead to your corruption and death!” Buffy stared back at her friend shocked. “Buffy, please, talk some sense into your son. You cannot believe that Wolfram and Hart will keep him safe? What if it is in the best interests of the firm to let him die at the hands of the Immortal? Consider that please. You have spent his entire life protecting him, please do not stop now!” “Aunt Reagan!” shouted Christopher. “I will do with my life what I please, with no consideration as to what the Council dictates. I am not a Watcher, nor a Watcher’s son. I am the son of a Vengeance Demon and a Vampire. Where else do I have a place in this world if not with the demons?” “No,” started Buffy. “Christopher you do not belong with the demons. I was wrong to raise you as such. If Annette hadn’t been taken...” “Yes, yes,” muttered Christopher. “If Annette hadn’t been taken, if Papa hadn’t left so quickly, if you had defied the Council...It is time to stop thinking about the what ifs mother and move on with your life...It stretches out long before you.” “Oh I am well aware of that Christopher. Wesley here is the only one of your friends that knows I am your mother, not your sister. But I will not let you resign yourself to a life serving demons. You are too good for that. You are the son of a Slayer and a Gentleman. You belong in this world. You can be anything you want. If Wolfram and Hart is what you want to do, then so be it. I will be a supportive mother,” Buffy decided, Christopher’s face lighting up and gracing her with a smile that made her almost want to weep. “Buffy!” protested Reagan. “Wolfram and Hart are evil!” “Yes Reagan. You are correct, but then so am I.” __________________________________________ Buffy and Anya sat in a Russian banquet hall surrounded by the remains of the invitees to Anya’s latest dinner party. Outside a battle raged, but Buffy didn’t care, the banquet had been a success, each of them had gotten in four or five wishes each. And the champagne was delicious. Buffy had no idea that St. Petersburg would have been so vengeful. “I swear, I'm in awe of you,” started Buffy, raising her glass to her friend. Anyanka’s parties were getting more and more elaborate each time she conned a woman into one. “Oh, stop,” deferred Anyanka. “Oh, I will not.” “I grant wishes. It's all inside the girl. I just bring it out.” “Yes, I'm sure this is what she had in mind,” noted Buffy with a sweep of her hand in the direction of the forty or so bodies that littered the table. “Well, I don't know about her mind, but it was in her heart. Besides, Russia was ready to explode. All we did is just give it a little push. It’s not like you were any different in China...Boxer Rebellion the humans called it? Ingenious my dear.” “What should we do with the rest of our evening? I hear they're going to raze the Winter Mansion,” said Buffy avoiding any talk of China. That was something she wished to forget. She was proud of the vengeance, true, it was the fact of what she saw and heard in that Buddhist Temple that she regretted. “Well, I thought we'd head on down to Madame Dubasov's. No better spot for vengeance than a brothel,” answered Anya. “Oh, it's always work, work, work with you,” noted Buffy, her attention suddenly drawn by the man who was on fire running through the room. “Well, of course. What else is there?” asked Anya. “What else is there? Why, the whole world, for one. Anyanka, take a look around. There's a lot to see. There's a revolution going on outside that you are somewhat responsible for. Aren't you the slightest bit interested?” “Well, what is there to be interested in? The worker will overthrow absolutism and lead the proletariat to a victorious communist revolution, resulting in socio-economic paradise on earth. It's common sense, really. I have better things to worry about.” Buffy snorted. “I wonder what Christopher would think of his Aunty Anyanka talking like that.” “Capitalist child of yours Erixel. Why couldn’t he become a farmer or something?“ Buffy laughed. Christopher had decided not to go into law at all, but into trade, much to the relief of his Aunt Reagan. “He’s happy doing what he does Anya. He has a whole world to explore.“ “Yes, a world filled with wronged women who need my help. You are trying to distract me from our job Erixel.” “Christopher is the only thing that can distract me from my work Anyanka, you know that.“ “Vengeance is what we do, Erixel. I don't need anything else. Vengeance is what I am,” noted Anyanka. “You can’t live forever on Vengeance alone Anya,” said Buffy with a sigh. She had been alone so long she had forgotten what it felt like to be happy. Vengeance does not a happy demon make. __________________________________________ Buffy teleported behind enemy lines. It was what she did. She liked to think of herself as a demon for good, occasionally getting wishes out of people. Truth was she felt guilty. Just a tad really. Who knew that a little wish made by a little Austrian boy was going to send the world into a second world war? It was her granddaughter who had convinced her to join the cause. The only grandchild she had that still kept in touch. The only one that still lived in England. It was hard to imagine that so much time had passed, that her son was all grown up, married, had children of his own, and was now an old man. And all the while, she had remained the same. Reagan had died and she had remained the same. She supposed that it was supposed to be comforting that there where still some things that stayed the same. Like the Council, the Immortal, and Spike and Drusilla. Buffy no longer had Reagan to rely on for tid bits about Spike’s whereabouts, but she got by. The demon community was rife with rumours about Spike and Dru, their exploits, their massacres, their eternal love. It all made Buffy’s stomach turn. Decades later and she still couldn’t get him out of her head. She hadn’t seen him since China. And she didn’t want to. She just hoped that he was enjoying his unlife, because if she ever saw him again, she would give him a piece of her mind. There was a sixty year old man in England right now who still remembers his father telling him that they would see each other again someday. Fifty seven years and not one word. A dark haired, blue eyed man teleported in beside her, the smoke from his materialisation drifting away into the night air and drawing her out of her contemplative state. “Took you long enough.” chided Buffy, looking the man up and down. “Hey!” he protested. “It doesn’t come as naturally to me as it does you, Rixy.” Buffy laughed. She liked Morgan. He was a warlock, and her partner behind the lines. He knew she was a demon and he didn’t mind. It also helped that he wasn’t associated with the Council in anyway, just a good guy trying to make things right in the world. “Ready to get this show on the road?” he asked. Buffy nodded and stepped forward into the street, taking Morgan’s offered arm. “So dinner first or are you particularly eager to blow some things up?” she asked. “I don’t know Rixy I was hoping to meet up with Anyanka.” “Anyanka isn’t even in Germany right now, Poland I think,” the demon noted. “What does that matter?” Buffy turned to look at her partner with a raised eyebrow. “You know Morgan you really have to stop trying to get a date with her. I know you two had a good time last month, but really she just uses men. In her line of work she can’t get attached to the opposite sex.” “Yes, she explained that to me, but really is it so bad to want to spend more time with her?” “No...” Buffy admitted. They rounded a corner entering into what looked like the town square of this little German town, lit only by the moon light filtering through the clouds. The scant light illuminated the lone figure standing in the middle of the town square for them, her blond hair shining brightly. “Darla,” Buffy greeted. __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #21 - Blow Me...

Disclaimer: Buffy and Spike aren’t mine, I just make them play out ‘what if’ scenarios Author’s note: Merry Holidays everyone! Living Vengeance picked up the Most Original Plot award at the Blood Ties awards this past week. *squee* Thanks to Bloodytearsoflife for the fab betaing. You rock my socks! Thanks to Tasha, CM, Chanel5, Marzbar and Wulfie for the fab reviews! __________________________________________ Chapter 21: Blow Me... “Elizabeth,“ greeted Darla her hands on her hips and a cross look on her face. Clearly the vampire hadn’t expected to see this operative. “They sent you? Even though they know our history?“ Buffy laughed. “Are you kidding me Darla? Our history? That’s a load of horse manure if I ever heard one. We have a couple of life and death fights between us, nothing more.“ Morgan shook his head. “We don’t have time to bicker in public ladies,” Morgan reminded, looking around. “Do they know what you are?“ he asked. “You know, I don’t even know why I agreed to do this!“ Darla began to rant. “You are doing this because we have a book you want to help free the Master from his underground prison,“ explained Morgan patiently. “You should have never left the Hellmouth.“ “The Master is my Sire, witch boy. You have no idea how powerful a sire is over their childer. He asks, I obey...” she said with a sneer. “Oh I have some idea,” muttered Buffy under her breath. “If you called Angelus, he’d come running...” she noted more forcefully. With an evil smile, Darla stepped into Buffy’s personal space. “It’s what keeps William from coming to see you again... You think I don’t know about your vampire love child? If you could I bet you would have ripped Drusilla in half by now. He’ll never leave her. The Sire childe bond, it transcends everything. Even if it didn’t, they’re mated.“ The news came as a shock and it took all of Buffy’s control to not show any emotion. Buffy set her lips hard against the words Darla was spouting. She willed herself not to cry. “Don’t call me Elizabeth, Mildred,” Buffy snapped back, using Darla’s real name. “Do your job and tell us what you’ve found for us and maybe you’ll get that book a whole lot sooner. That is, if you don’t end up dust from pissing me off.“ “Maybe we should get off the street? The yelling is going to attract a lot of unwanted attention,” suggested Morgan. Buffy nodded, admitting to herself that she shouldn’t have gotten into it with Darla right there in the town square. “I have a room...” offered the vampire with a roll of her eyes. “There aren’t any dead bodies in your room are there?” Buffy couldn’t help but ask. “I eat out.” __________________________________________ Buffy was sure that they made quite the sight, two blond women and a man going up to a room in a quaint pub, populated by the hardened souls of war torn Germany. Safely ensconced in the room, Morgan quickly set up a cloaking spell around the room. “Your cover has not been compromised?” he asked going straight into business. Darla rolled her eyes at the warlock. “I’ve been speaking German centuries before you were born little man, I’m very good at what I do.” “Must be all those years being a whore...” sniped Buffy. “What is your problem?” demanded Darla harshly. “You just aren’t my favourite vampire, Darla. Must be all those times you tried to kill me...” “Ladies...” interrupted Morgan, speading out his hands between the two. “The sooner we get this information, the sooner we can leave you to your business, Darla.” Buffy crossed her arms angrily and stared at the vampire. “The German government is aware of the existence of vampires and is collecting my kind to learn how to control them, to make them weapons against the allies,” explained Darla. “Do you know how many they have? Any Master Vampires in the list? Where are they taking them?” asked Morgan in quick succession. “No, I don’t know how many that they have. The Germans have a base off the coast of Norway, that’s where they are taking them. The only way to get there is Submarine, at least that’s what the fool told me before I drained him,” Darla explained. “You didn’t turn him did you?” asked Morgan. “No,” Darla retorted. “We have to find out where these subs leave from, “ interjected Buffy. Morgan nodded emphatically, keeping Darla in his sight. “Do I get the Codex now?” asked Darla impatiently. “I’ll put in a good word with our superiors,” said the Warlock, unwilling to give her any further information. “You will be contacted by the same channels.” “Great. You know, I wish you people would learn to use the mail. ‘Cause having some witch start talking into my head is annoying.” A concerned Morgan turned to his partner. A pregnant pause filled the room as Darla caught on to just what she had said that made Morgan look at his partner that way. “What?” asked Buffy. “I don’t have something on my face do I?” she asked nervously, reaching up to brush away the invisible thing. “I said I wish...” said Darla. “Oh that!” laughed Buffy relieved. “They already know how to use the postal system Darla...” “That was truly stupid, Darla!” ranted Morgan all of a sudden. “You know what Erixel is!” Darla rolled her eyes. “I am well aware of what she is, witch boy. She was supposed to be Angelus’ first slayer.” Buffy smiled sweetly at the vampire. She was resisting the urge to stick a stake in her heart. “Well look how well that turned out. Let’s go Morgan,” said Buffy grabbing Morgan’s arm and trying to turn him away from Darla and towards the door of the room. __________________________________________ It hadn’t taken long for the pair of undercover operatives to get to the location they were seeking. A teleport later they were strolling, arm in arm down the main street of a small port town, that obviously had been built up since the beginning of the war. “You don’t seem to like her very much...” started Morgan. “That’s an understatement,” snorted Buffy. “Tried to kill me, responsible for the one that killed my father. She’s the matriarch of their whole deadly psychotic family.” “How long has it been since the last time you saw any of the Aurelians?” “Forty four years,” she answered. “I saw Spike and Drusilla in China, 1900.” Morgan nodded, as if reconciling the information and trying to come up with something new to say. With the exception of her son, Anyanka, William and D’Hoffryn, Morgan was the foremost authority on her. He could write her biography if he felt like it. “And you haven’t seen the father of your child since?” he asked. Buffy shook her head. “When he didn’t show up again to see his son while Christopher was growing up...I didn’t think he was interested. You’ve heard the rumours. Dru is his eternal love.” “Still...” “I don’t pretend to know what’s going on in his head. I don’t know him anymore.” “And if you were to randomly run into him?” asked Morgan. “I’d probably pretend that you were my newest lover and make him see that I don’t care anymore.” “Right...Can I veto that?” asked Morgan. Buffy smiled at her friend. “If you are afraid of me kissing you having any effect on Anyanka and whether or not she’ll sleep with you again, don’t be. It’ll probably turn her on more.” “Well then, I say more Rixy kisses.” “Funny man.” “Well, we could get out of there and find Anyanka if we could find the place where they are holding all their captured vamps,” explained Morgan. Buffy nodded and attempted to sense out other demons in the area. Without knowing what she was doing she started walking towards an alleyway. Morgan followed behind. Finally, she came to rest in front of a heavy steel door. “In here,” she stated simply. “How do you know?” Morgan asked. “Wouldn’t the place be guarded?” Buffy shrugged. “If anyone broke in it would be bad news for them right?” “What’s to keep the vampires in?” asked the warlock. Buffy opened the heavy door with a creak. On the other side of the door was roughly 40 crosses nailed to the metal. “Guess that explains that,” noted Morgan, shutting the door behind him. “I’ll get everything set up and we can go.” Buffy nodded absently as her partner began assembling parts of the explosive device that he had hidden in his coat. He liked to keep his magical abilities for getting himself out of sticky situations. The room they were in was dark, much darker than she normally was comfortable in. She could feel that there were other demons in the room, but no humans. It was highly likely that whoever the Germans left to guard the inside was lunch. Suddenly, Morgan flashed his torch into the darkness for a moment, the light landing on a dark figure at the end of the room. “Is that one of them then?” the warlock asked, shining his torch at the same spot once again, this time his light catching a wooden crate. “Would you stop doing that?” she asked. Morgan turned his flashlight to shine on his partner’s face for a moment before returning to his work. “Buffy, there is a vampire behind you,” said the warlock with a gulp. Buffy rolled her eyes in annoyance before twisting around, catching the vampire’s hand and bringing its arm around behind its back in a painful grip. “Bloody Hell!” came the voice of the vampire in question, causing Buffy to drop his hand and take a step back from her attacker. “Morgan, light, lots of it please,” ordered Buffy. With a grumble, Morgan said a small incantation and lit the room with blue light. Buffy’s mouth hung open as the light revealed the face she had come to associate with her son stared back at her. Christopher had lighter hair though. “Spike what have you done to your hair?” asked Buffy her voice raised. With a cocky smirk, Spike raised his hand to run it over his very black, very slicked back locks. “Like it?” Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Eww, no.” “This is the famous William the Bloody then?” asked Morgan with a raised eyebrow. The warlock stood and offered his hand to the vampire to shake. When Spike made no motion to shake Morgan’s hand, Buffy jabbed him in the ribs. “Christopher does look a lot like him,” continued the warlock, shaking Spikes hand, countering the increased pressure of the vampire’s grip. “Course I do, chip off the old block he is,” stated Spike. “And how the fuck would you know that!” Buffy shouted. “You haven’t talked to him in decades!” Spike let go of Morgan’s hand and whipped around to face the mother of his child. “Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. How would you know? Spent holidays with the kid, that’s all. Boarding school is a bitch, Buffy.” “I know that! I went to one,” she protested. “You went to a girl’s school.” “Are you saying that you actually visited Christopher while he was at school?” asked Morgan curious. “No, not saying anything. Why don’t you just open the bloody door and be on your way.” “No,” declared Buffy. “We have a job to do. You are part of the job.” “You really going to blow me...up, luv?” he said all seductively. “No,” she said staring him down. “Morgan is.” __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #22 - Bombs and Vampires

Disclaimer: Joss’ Buffy was a slayer. I made her a Vengeance Demon. Author’s note: Many thanks to the fabulous Bloodytearsoflife for betaing! Thanks to Opal, Chanel 5, Tasha, Wulfie and idk, for the fab reviews! __________________________________________ Chapter 22: Bombs and Vampires “Morgan’s going to blow up the building?“ asked Spike Buffy smiled evilly. “Yep, Morgan, is going to blow up the building Spike, with you in it I might add.” “Don’t you think, Christopher would call it amiss if he found out that you blew up papa?” inquired the vampire. “Don’t you dare! Don’t you bloody dare use Christopher against me! You don’t have that right!” she yelled, her voice echoing through the warehouse. “Rixy!” chastised Morgan, trying to quiet his partner. “No, there’s no one in here that would mind her caterwaulin’...” explained Spike. “I do not caterwaul!” she protested, feeling very much like stomping her foot. “Look!” shouted Morgan, standing up from his task with the explosive. “We have a job to do, there are Nazi’s probably alerted to our presence by the both of you yelling at each other and coming this way as you both caterwaul! Shut the fuck up or take your shouting outside!” Buffy looked at the partner with just a little bit of fear. Morgan never raised his voice. But here was clear evidence to the contrary. “How many vampires are here then?” asked Buffy returning to business and her normal tone of voice. “Three,” Spike answered. “Three? We’re blowing up a building for three vampires?” asked Buffy turning to Morgan. “Yes, that’s what we agreed to do, Erixel.” “Well it seems like a waste of resources. Can’t I just stake them and get it over with?” “No!” shouted the two men, equally surprised that they shouted the same thing. “What? You mean you don’t want to go up against another slayer Spike? Won against the last one didn’t you?” taunted Buffy. “Ya, I bested a Slayer. I’m known for it. You aren’t a slayer, Buffy, you are out of practice and I’m not killin’ my son’s mother, no matter how much she bloody irritates me.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “I could so take you, you pompous moron.” “Maybe, pet, but Christopher would never forgive you.” Buffy knew he was right. And the truth was she would never be able to dust him. He was William and even after all this time, time that she had convinced herself that she wasn’t in love with him, she really still did. So she punched him in the nose. “Bloody hell!” His hands went up to his injured nose right away. “What’d you do that for?” “What? You mean you didn’t deserve it?” she asked innocently. “How did you get captured anyway?” The two secret agents looked at the vampire for a moment when he didn’t answer. “You were drunk weren’t you?” Buffy finally answered for him, a smug smirk playing on her face. “Might‘ve been,” he admitted finally, scuffing the ground with the tip of his shoe. “Bombs’ ready,” declared Morgan, standing up from his work. “And set.” Buffy nodded. “I’ll meet you back at HQ, alright?” Morgan looked between the two former amours and nodded in understanding. William the Bloody wasn’t going to meet his doom in a warehouse. In a flash of light the warlock teleported away, leaving Buffy and Spike in the darkness, as the bomb ticked down the seconds. “Where’s Drusilla?” asked Buffy. “Got separated from her in Paris, suspect she’s still there, feasting on Nazis.” “Christopher missed you,” she whispered into the darkness. “Christopher is an old man, Buffy, he’s got kids himself now.” “And those kids have kids and have moved to the four corners of the earth.” Buffy paused giving Spike a look like she was trying to figure him out. “Did you really see Christopher at school?” Spike reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fag and his lighter. “Ya, I did,” he finally admitted, breathing out a puff of smoke. “Couldn’t very well see him when you lived in soddin’ Arashamahar. He’s my son Buffy. I couldn’t stay away forever.” Suddenly, Buffy reached forward, grabbed Spike’s coat and pulled him towards her. Across that sleepy German port, sirens blared as a highly secret warehouse was consumed in a ball of flame. __________________________________________ “Put that out!” she shouted at him from beneath his hard body. Buffy reached up and flung the cigarette across her bedroom. Casting her eyes back at the vampire that was covering her body with his as they lay on her bed, she was suddenly struck with the interesting trajectory of their portal entrance. Cocking her head to avoid his, she stared up at the stone ceiling of her lair. The tell tale burn marks of a portal were on the ceiling above her bed. “That has never happened before...” she observed. “Why didn’t you tell me you saw him?” she asked pushing Spike off of her, and sitting up herself on the edge of her bed. “Didn’t think it was your business,” he muttered, getting up. “He’s my son, of course it’s my business. I spent his whole life keeping him safe!” “And he’s past ready to take care of himself. He’s been doing a right excellent job for his sixty years.” “I know. I’m his mother, I worry about him and all of them! And he won’t tell me where Henry and Isabella moved to.” Spike sat down beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. “He wouldn’t tell me either luv. It’s time you stopped trying to control everything and just live your life. Let him worry about his kids.” With a sniff, she stood up from the bed, her emotions suddenly reined in. “I don’t have a life, Spike. I have my son’s life, I have vengeance and recently I have Morgan and what he does.” Spike chuckled at that. “Morgan? Warlock boy got you hot to trot has he?” “I don’t need to answer that question Spike. I don’t belong to you,” she replied with a hard glare. “Like hell you don’t!” he protested getting up off the bed and closed the distance between them swiftly. “You are mine Buffy. You have my marks on your neck.” Her hand slowly trailed to the marks he had left her before Christopher was born. “Yes, your marks are on my neck, but you didn’t claim me, Spike. You are mated to Drusilla. One mate, one claim Spike, that’s how it works. Dust till you part.” “And just who told you that I’d mated with Dru?” he asked, the anger in his tone very apparent. “Darla.” Spike clenched his fist in rage, resisting the urge to take out his anger on the woman before him. “And she’s an authority on the love life of William the Bloody is she? I haven’t seen the bint since China.” “You’re...You’re not mated to Dru?” she asked quietly. “No, tried, she refused,” he explained in a defeated tone, going back to the bed. “I waited such a long time...after Angelus was gone, thought I’d given her plenty of time to get him out of her system...” “She is still in love with her Daddy,” Buffy completed his sentence. “There are some women who just can’t bet past their first love, Spike.” “You one of those, luv?” he asked, forcing her to look away with the intensity of his gaze. “Not answering that Spike.” “Why?” “You already know the answer,” she whispered. “And Morgan? How does he fit in to the equation? Just using him for sex? Isn’t that what Vengeance demons do?” “I’m not Anyanka, Spike,” she noted as she sat down on the bed beside him. “No, you are Erixel, the second most famous Vengeance Demon in the world. The mother of the Immortal’s child.” “Oh he’s had a few more since Christopher’s birth. It’s too bad those children didn’t have super parents to keep them safe. I really wish that at least one of them would get old enough to wish him ill.” “I thought you made the bugger sicker than a dog.” “Yes but he didn’t die, stupid prat,” she cursed. “But one of our offspring will kill him. D’Hoffryn promised me.” There was a long pause, as each other didn’t know what else to say. “I miss this, talking to you. Why did it take us this long to find each other again?” she questioned, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Well, I’ve got the mayhem and the evil, and you’ve got...” “Vengeance,” she nodded. “It’s not an excuse.” “It’s all I’ve got,” he admitted in a sombre voice. “Right.” Buffy stood from the bed and extended her hand. There was no point of dragging out this uncomfortable moment. “You ready to go back?” “Where you gonna drop me?” “Where I found you. Do you want to go back to Dru instead? I could manage that if you wish.” “No wishes pet, you know that.” Buffy nodded. “Wanna go see Christopher,” he whispered grabbing her outstretched hand and standing from the edge of the bed. “Really?” “Haven’t seen him in years pet, got us a war on you know. Might be a good idea to check up on my property in town too, see how it faired in the bombing.” __________________________________________ In the end, the two exited the portal into Spike’s London house, it was well after midnight. They had both agreed that there was no cause to wake Christopher, and decided to wait until morning. The house was intact, more than Buffy expected. “When was the last time you were here?” she asked, the dust on the tables and chairs more telling than anything else. “Five or six years,” he responded absently, walking about the house looking over the various bits and bobs that decorated the house. “Right, well, I’ll just leave you to your nostalgia,” she said, heading for the door. “You don’t have to go,” replied Spike, his head looking up from a book he had been leafing through. “Is there something to stay around for?” she asked, trying her hardest to keep the hope out of her voice. “Might be.” Buffy bowed her head, clenching her fists at her side. “Please, Spike don’t do that. Don’t dangle hope in front of me, only to pull it back again.” “I haven’t seen Dru in two years, Buffy.” “Uh...I’m sorry?” Buffy responded, sarcasm in full swing. Spike left the book he had been flipping through and walked up to the vengeance demon with a smirk on his face. She just rolled her eyes. “Are you trying to seduce me?” she questioned, her eyebrow raised. “You’re here, I’m here, neither of us is tied down to anyone right now,” he whispered in her ear, his lips coming dangerously close to her skin. “Dru’s in Paris, and you cannot convince me that you slept with that Morgan fellow.” “He’s Anyanka’s, not mine,” she finally admitted, cursing at herself for not following through with her plan. “Glad to hear it, luv,” he murmured, his lips finding a spot behind her ear to kiss. Buffy could feel her resolve melting under the light pressure of his kisses, as he travelled from behind her ear down her jaw line and towards her mouth. This felt good: it felt familiar and right. And suddenly she wanted this. She didn’t care that she knew he would go back to Dru, ‘cause he always did that. She wanted this, she wanted to feel him, be with him, even just for a night. Once every sixty or so years was ok right? Her body seemed to think so. Spike’s hands trailed down her arms and set about unbuttoning her wool jacket that matched ever so well with her skirt. She had no illusions about this. It was what they did. A gasp left her lips as his cold fingers found their way past the waistband of her skirt and slip. Yes, she had missed this. The way his lips felt on her skin, the way he made all the right spots tingle. Her own fingers found the opening of his jacket and pushed it off his shoulders revealing the tight shirt he was wearing beneath it. Their lips connected once more, this time Buffy sucked his tongue into her mouth, caressing it tenderly with her own. She pulled him even closer with her hands woven into his jet black hair. Her skirt’s fastenings gave way to his nimble fingers, revealing the ivory slip she wore. The next to go was the slip itself. Followed by her blouse. Spike took a step back for an appreciative glance. “Can’t say I miss the corset, luv,” he noted, his hands reaching for her bra encased breasts. “That’s something we agree about,” she whispered, watching his hands make easy work of the bra clasp and pulling it from her body, leaving her clothed, in panties and heels. It seemed to her that he was far too dressed for the occasion. With a flick of his wrist, the sheet that was covering the nearest couch was pulled off and Buffy suddenly found herself tossed up on it, and a vampire latched upon her right breast, his tongue making lazy circles around her nipple, one of his hands tracing the same motion on the other. Her nipples puckered under his attentions, and she could feel just how much of a reaction he was getting from her body on the crotch of her panties. His head rose for a moment as he very clearly sniffed the air and smiled. He bit down on her right breast hard enough to leave a mark with blunt human teeth before kissing down the length of her torso, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of her knickers. Slowly he drew them down and flung them to the side, parting her legs roughly. His fingers found the bite mark that lay on the inside of one of her thighs. Leaning down, his tongue probed the mark tenderly. Buffy found herself staring at the ceiling, hoping that he would bite her again. Spike bit down gently with human teeth over his mark, his hands snaking up along her thighs, his thumbs coming to rest over her mound. One dipped lower and began rubbing her clit, sending a strangled moan into the still air of the house. She tugged at his hair to get him to stop what he was doing. She didn’t need foreplay, she was wet and ready and Buffy needed him in her now, before she exploded. He gave her weeping slit a long languorous lick on his way up her body, moving his hands from her thighs, to undo his trousers and pushing them down quickly before moving to position himself at her entrance. The head of his cock bumped against her entrance unexpectedly, finally bringing her to take charge. She’d gone without for too long a time to be teased. Buffy wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him forward, his thick cock sinking into her wet folds. “Oh D’Hoffryn,” she swore, at the ceiling, unable to put into words the wondrous feeling of his hard shaft filling her up. “I’d rather you keep that pompous demon out of our shagging, Buffy,” groaned Spike, as he started pumping in and out of her slick channel. “Shut up and fuck me, Spike,” she ordered, clenching her tight vaginal muscles around his embedded length. His rhythm increased, his pelvic bone slapping against her clit in just the right way. With her ankles locked around his waist, she forced him deeper with each thrust, as if she wanted him in as far as he would go. “God, I love it when you’re bossy,” he responded, nuzzling his face into her hair, inhaling her scent. With a smile parting her lips, not other wise engaged in kisses, Buffy murmured something against his cheek. “Bite me, Spike.” Before her eyes he shifted into his bumpy demonic visage, fangs at the ready. She tilted her neck waiting for the bite. When he finally did slip his fangs into her waiting skin, just over his previous marks, she came hard and loud, screaming his name enough that he thought they might have been heard in the street. Her blood was sweet and tangy, not as yummy as it had been when she had been without her pendant and without her demon status, but he liked it just the same. The after effects of her orgasm, her cum dripping along his pulsating shaft and the internal muscles clenching against his cock were almost enough to send him over the edge. He didn’t have a chance to let these things bring him off. She bit him. Spike roared in completion, his dead seed coating her fluttering insides. Still intimately connected, his shaft softening slowly, he rolled off of her, forcing them to lay facing each other on their sides on the couch. “You better not be tired, Mr Fairchilde,” she started, trailing her fingers down his T shirt clad chest. “You have sixty years to make up for, and if I’m going to get my heart broken tomorrow, I’m gonna need a lot of good sex to tide me over.” _________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #23 - Family Togetherness

Disclaimer: I don’t own Spike...sad but true. Author’s note: Thanks once again to BTL for the fab betaing. This chapter is dedicated her and her fabulousness and hard work! *hugs* Thanks to CM, wulfie, idk, vladt, Marzbar and Tasha for the fab reviews _________________________________________ Chapter 23: Family Togetherness Buffy and Spike stepped out into the street, from the alleyway that the portal sent them to. She made no effort to extricate his hand from hers as they traversed the street and walked up the stairs to a fashionable, but old, house. She kept thinking about the amazing time they had had in his house last night. The pleasant memories were only marred by the fact that sometime today, he was going to leave her again. She tried not to dwell on that fact and instead thought about those she was about to visit. The doorbell was rung and a blond girl, with piercing blue eyes and a few freckles answered the door. “Grandma Erixel!” gushed the teenager. “Grandpa Spike!” Buffy turned to look at Spike annoyed. He had obviously met Noël before. The girl stepped back from the doorway in gesture that they should enter. Noël left them to announce to the rest of the house that they had arrived. She shouldn’t have been surprised that the vampire could pass over the threshold of the house without an invitation. Buffy shut the door behind them as they entered, her fingers that were intertwined with Spike’s finally coming loose and her hand falling to her side, as her, correction, their, family came around the corner. Christopher, his wife, and Noël. “Mum, Papa,” greeted Christopher, his sixty years weighing on him heavily, but with a coy smile that made his face seem younger. His parents were in the same room together for the first time since he was three. Something was up. “Someone owes me a pound,” piped up Noël, extending her hand at her grandfather. Christopher looked down at the teen’s extended hand and shook his head. “Later, Noël,” he muttered. “Let your great grandparents come in.” “Yes, do come in,” agreed Christopher’s wife, Kristina, gently pushing her granddaughter into the parlour. “Can I get you something? Blood? Tea?” “Tea would be fine, Kristina,” answered Buffy, smiling sweetly at her daughter in law as she sat on the couch in front of the chair her son sat upon. “Spike?” asked Kristina. “Tea’s fine, pet,” the vampire replied, sitting casually in another upholstered chair. “Noël, come help, please,” ordered Kristina, eager to get Noël out of the parlour. She had a feeling there would be some uncomfortable discussion soon. The moment Kristina was out of the room, the uncomfortable discussion began. “When, if ever, were you going to tell me that you had been seeing your father?” asked Buffy, her tone not happy. She sat with her back very stiff and straight, feeling she had a right to the anger in her voice. “For the same reason I didn’t take his money or his house, Mum,” countered Christopher. “It’s my life, I can do with it what I want. I’ve had too many people and demons try to rule my life for me, Mum, and you are one of those demons.” A grim look passed over her face, her anger wavering just the tiniest bit. “Do you really think it would have made any difference? Except maybe you’d hang around trying to catch a glimpse of him. I liked having the undivided attention of both my parents, even if they were separated. Imagine what it would have been like if you were together at some of those school parents days? The arguing would have led to violence on more than one occasion. I have no doubt.” Her son’s words humbled her. “I’m sorry Christopher,” she whispered. Christopher reached over to hold his mother’s hand. “You did your best, keeping me hidden, with secrets and lies. I grew up knowing from a very young age that it’s good to keep certain secrets, even if they are from the ones you love the most.” “Just like you won’t bloody tell us where the rest of the grandkids are?” interjected Spike. Christopher laughed. “Exactly. In a way I’m glad that I don’t have to keep scheduling visits.” “I’ve never had to schedule my visits here before Christopher!” protested Buffy. “No, but I bleedin’ have. Boy loves his mum too much if you ask me,” ranted Spike. Buffy smiled. “And that’s a bad thing?” she asked coyly. “So you two arriving at the same time, hand in hand...have something to tell me, or are you getting an old man’s hopes up?” The two demons looked at each other uncomfortably before staring at the floor. “Ah so no change then,” replied Christopher when his parents refused to say another word. _________________________________________ By the time the tea was served, they had all lapsed into happy memories of Christopher’s childhood, Christopher finally being able to tell his mother about some of the fun times he had had with his father. In moments Buffy’s horrible hatred of Spike for his neglect of his son lifted as the smiles and laughter at these happy memories floated through the room. “Of course there was that time when you crept through my dorm room window and nearly stepped on Joseph Edward’s head. He threatened to call headmaster on you. He thought you were a student!” The laughter subsided when they all remembered what happened to John Edwards. He had been killed in the first world war. “Grandma Erixel? When can we expect a visit from Aunty Anyanka?” asked Noël. “She’s in Poland right now, sweetie,” answered the vengeance demon with a pat on the head to the girl. “And Morgan?” asked the curious teen. “Morgan should be at HQ. And he is much too old for you my dear.” _________________________________________ The visit lasted as long as there was daylight in the sky. The sun had set and the whole city succumbed to the nightly black out. Spike and Buffy slipped out of Christopher’s house, and onto the street together. “Do you want to me send you back to Germany or do you want to go to Paris and be with her?” she asked trying to catch his eye. Spike dug into his jacket and brought out a cigarette and his lighter. “Don’t have to go quite so soon, pet. Haven’t been needed by Dru for three years now.” “But the moment she calls to you, you’re gone,” she said her head nodding in understanding. “I get what you want Spike. I just don’t know if I can do it.” Spike blew out a puff of smoke and focused his eyes on her. She was unchanged from the day they had met, really. Still looked like a seventeen year old. Looked like Noël’s older sister. This visit with Christopher was different from any of the other visits he’d had. This one felt right, more like a family and less like a creature of the night. Silence was all Buffy heard in return, her resolve strengthening. “We can’t play happy family when we aren’t one. I have to get back. Morgan will need to talk to me.” “Right,” he said blowing his smoke out into the cool night air again. “You do that and then head back here to spend me back in few days, ya?” “I’m not your personal ferry service, Spike!” “Well, unless I join the allies for invasion, that’s the only way I’m getting back to Occupied France isn’t it?” he snapped back. “Not my problem Spike. Either you go now, or you make your own way back,” she declared putting her hands on her hips. “If I don’t leave you now, it will make it harder later,” she continued, her tone softening. “Maybe we are meant to be hard?” “Then why does it seem to be easier for you?” she asked plaintively. Tossing his fag away, Spike gathered her up into his arms into a tight hug. “It only seems that way to you, luv.” Minutes later, as Christopher looked out the window of his house he saw his parents engaged in the first kiss he had ever seen them have. He knew that even if this time they didn’t end up together, they would someday. It was a comforting thought. _________________________________________ Buffy rolled over, the silk sliding over her skin like liquid. She couldn’t remember just how she got back to his London home. They had walked, or she thought they had anyway. What she did remember was that he was a very good kisser, and was very distracting from thoughts of returning to HQ or checking in with Morgan. Now, it was morning and she was lying in his bed. The bed that he had slept in while he was still human. Though she doubted the sheets were the same. She really couldn’t picture human William Fairchilde sleeping in red silk sheets with any stretch of the imagination. He wasn’t in the bed now, which was a concern. She knew he was going to leave, but she had hoped that there would be at least a passing good bye. Buffy opened her eyes, at last to see Spike staring at her. “You and Noël could be sisters,” he said out of the blue. “’Cept we’re not,” she stated bluntly, looking around for her clothes. He was dressed, his blackened hair slicked back. He was ready to go. He was waiting for her to get out. She found her undergarments with ease and slipped them on as he watched. There was something he was hiding, she could see it in his eyes. “Well, out with it, Spike,” she barked out, standing in the middle of the room clad in a pink slip. “Dru’s calling,” he stated point of fact. “Figures,” she almost snarled, continuing her search for her clothes. “Sometimes I wonder at her timing though,” he started prattling on. “Three years since she needed me by her side and after one night with you, she calls me back.” “She doesn’t want to share you,” responded Buffy, slipping on her skirt. “I’m her competition for your undead devotion. Why wouldn’t she make sure that you came crawling back as fast as possible?” “She has nothing to be jealous of...” And with that her world turned black. That small sentence, filled her eyes with tears. She nodded, buttoning up her blouse, trying to keep the tears at bay, regardless of the fact that he could smell them anyway. It was as if he didn’t care that his words hurt her feelings. Buffy tucked her blouse into the waist of her skirt roughly and threw on her jacket, planting her feet into her shoes impatiently. With a sniff she looked up at him and grabbed his arm, opened a portal and pushed him, rather than guided him through. “Oy!” he protested his harsh treatment. “Watch the leather, pet!” He pulled away from her, standing in the middle of her Arashamahar bedroom. “Whatever, just go through the portal and leave, please,” she pleaded, trying not to sound like she was pleading. He took another step back and crossed his arms. “What crawled up your arse?” Buffy rolled her eyes before sending him a glare. “You know what? I hope someday, sooner rather than later you get to feel exactly what I’m feeling right now. I wish to D’Hoffryn that you’d be love’s bitch someday. I’ve had it!” She opened a portal with a thought and with a flick of her wrist sent Spike flying through it. An hour later, her eyes red from crying, she finally got the energy up to go and check in at HQ. _________________________________________ She loved her thigh calf high patent leather doc martins. She would sing their praises to just about every person she granted a wish to. Of course, most of her recent clients had been more concerned that she was going to mug them than anything else. But she liked this look. She liked what it said about her and how she was a rebel from convention, she didn’t put up with crap from governments, if she fell under the jurisdiction of one anyway. D’Hoffryn liked it. The purple hair, the choker around her neck, the pierced nose. He said that it suited her and her quest to relate to disenchanted children of the world. This was one of the trends of the 1970’s that she could get behind. Disco turned her stomach, punk made more sense. And that’s what she was doing on the streets of New York. She hadn’t wanted to go back to London after Noël died in an IRA bombing. Noël was the last of her family. The last one she had contact with. Christopher had died an old man surrounded by his family and friends till the end. Except Spike. He wasn’t there for the deathbed vigil, or the funeral. Christopher had even asked for him near the end. And Buffy tried to get him to come. She sent out demons to find him, wherever he was, to be at their son’s side. She had found out a year later that he had been snacking on frozen Russians in Siberia. And now Noël was gone too. She hadn’t gone to Noël’s funeral though. She’d been at D’Hoffryn’s annual “How to be a better Vengeance Demon” conference. Spike had gone though. She would never forget how she found out her beloved great granddaughter had died. She’d found Noël’s house locked up, with a for sale sign in the garden. She’d had to ask the neighbour why the house had been put up for sale. Noël’s neighbour had given her a card too, a business card of Wolfram and Hart, with whom the arrangements for the funeral had been made. She’d teleported into the lobby of the massive London edifice wanting answers. The receptionist was very kind in light of the fact that the famed Erixel had just teleported into her office. With a little time Buffy learned that Spike had taken care of everything. He’d been there for Noël when she hadn’t been available. It was her deepest wish now to be able to find out where the rest of her family was hidden. Christopher had had 3 children. Noël’s father, William, had been killed in the war, Noël being his only child. But Henry and Isabella had disappeared. Well, not disappeared, hidden away. Christopher had known where they had gone, fled England before the war, hiding from the Immortal and the demon world. They could be anywhere. They could be dead, but Buffy didn’t want to think about that. She’d tried to keep in touch with the Wyndham-Price children too, but after Reagan died, the children, raised to believe in the ideals of the Watcher’s council, were fearful of her. Buffy looked around her for a moment thinking about teleporting to her apartment in Manhattan that she had acquired. She’d had it since the 1950’s from a girl, who’d been on her deathbed that she’d granted a wish to. It was nice of her really. Suddenly, around the corner came an older man, whose demeanour and dress just screamed ’Watcher’ to her, clutching the hand of a little African American boy. The little boy’s eyes just pleaded with hers. With a smile Buffy decided from whom her next wish was going to come from. _________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #24 - A Special Little Boy

Disclaimer: I don’t own Nikki, Buffy, Spike or Robin, it’s sad, but true. Author’s note: Some dialogue from ‘Fool for Love’ used. Thanks to the fabulous and extraordinary Bloodytearsoflife for betaing! *hugs* Thanks to Cewcew, Chanel 5, vladt, idk, Tasha and Copy for the great reviews! _________________________________________ Chapter 24: A Special Little Boy Buffy watched the little boy and the Watcher cross the pavement and enter into a building at the end of the street. The imposing brown brick townhouse didn’t look like the place a child would live in. Through the windows she could see the shelves of books that lined the walls. Questions flooded her mind. Was the Watcher really this little boy’s father? Guardian perhaps? Where was his mother? Who was his mother? Was his mother a Slayer? Was she still alive? Buffy leaned against a mailbox pretending to inspect her nails as a woman in a long leather coat walked along the sidewalk on the other side of the street. Instantly Buffy had answers to her questions. The over riding sense of ‘Slayer’ filled the street, making her stand on alert and urging her to run or hide. She had never heard of a Slayer having a child before. It wasn’t something she’d wish on any child, not knowing if their mother was going to die when night time came. It made the need to get a wish out of this little boy even more desirous. Buffy watched the Slayer walk into the townhouse and slam the door. Buffy glared at the house before teleporting home. _________________________________________ Robin Wood couldn’t have been more than 4 years old. Buffy had established his routine in the next few days. Preschool in the mornings, afternoons with his mother as she trained with her Watcher, evenings with the Watcher, and then taken back to his home, a one bedroom apartment in the Bronx for the night. It was nearly impossible to get the child alone at all. Buffy respected that. At least the Slayer was trying her best, given her job. Even so, little Robin deserved a wish. Their tiny apartment, full of stakes instead of toys, made Buffy’s heart break. She’d teleported in, hoping to catch some sort of glimpse into just what kind of wish Robin would make. She wanted to find a common ground that would make the little boy comfortable. There weren’t many pictures on the walls. The ones that were displayed were old, of the Slayer with her family and friends, on the day of Robin’s birth. Buffy had to wonder just what had happened that her family would abandon her and her little boy, regardless of being a Slayer...unless the Council refused to let her contact her family. Robin should have been left with his grandparents. Of course there was a good possibility that her entire family was dead too; that often happened to the family of a Slayer. She supposed it was remarkable that Robin was even alive. Buffy poked around the apartment gleaning what information she could about her ‘client’ until she was startled by a loud crash against the other side of the door. Buffy put down the picture frame she was holding and prepared to teleport away when she heard something that made her roll her eyes. “Slayer! Come out here!” roared a growly male voice of the demon variety. The hulking M’Fashnik demon crashed through the door and stepped up to Buffy, peering down upon her small frame, followed through the door by a couple of Fyarl demons. “You aren’t the Slayer!” growled the M’Fashnik. “Really? I hadn’t noticed with the teleporting and the vengeance...” noted the former Slayer with intense sarcasm. “This is the Slayer’s place though...” “Ya, it is,” admitted Buffy. “And now you are going to ruin my plans!” she pouted. “Who the hell are you anyway?” the M’Fashnik demon asked, starting to pick through the belongings around the apartment, the two Fyarls punching holes in the walls. “Erixel,” Buffy introduced herself, holding out her hand, as if she expected it to be kissed like in the days of her youth. The M’Fashnik stood up straighter with a look of fear evident in his eyes. He grasped her hand gently and brought it to his lips, planting a small kiss on her knuckles. “I apologise for my interruption,” mumbled the demon backing away. “I had no idea you had designs on this Slayer...” “Touch either the Slayer or her son before I get his wish, and you’ll regret it,” she stated factually, allowing her demon visage to come forward for a moment. The M’Fashnik nodded vigorously as Buffy teleported away with one thought on her mind. Who had hired the M’Fashnik to take on the Slayer? _________________________________________ Spike paced in his basement lair, minions hanging on the edges of the room, worried that their Master was going to lash out at them. New York was going to be the site of his second slayer kill. He could feel it in his bones. And yet before him were incompetent minions that couldn’t do the simplest task in the world, like break into the Slayer’s apartment and ruin that feeling of security she had. “What do you mean there’s another demon interfering with the Slayer? If I knew better mate, I would have thought you’d gone soft.” The M’Fashnik before him growled at the implication. “Well just who was this all powerful demon that put you in your place then?” Spike asked, a cocky grin spreading over his face. The M’Fashnik gulped. “Erixel.” Spike’s face dropped its cocky grin and he stood for a fraction of a second wide eyed and shocked. He recovered though, a hard glare taking shape on his face. “Hey, I have children. I don’t want her getting to them, I’m sure my eldest would love to make daddy soup after I told her that she couldn’t go see Star Wars with her boyfriend alone.” Spike was mad. He kicked out at a nearby table reducing the item of furniture to kindling in seconds. “She said that if anyone touched the Slayer or the boy, she was going to make them regret it. I believe her. I have this friend...” Spike backhanded the M’Fashnik shutting him up. “Get out of my sight!” growled the vampire. The M’Fashnik, Fyarls and Vampires all scurried out of the room, hoping to get out of Spike’s vicinity. “Elizabeth Cecily Underwood!” Spike called out into the darkness of his lair, livid. “Get your snotty vengeance demon ass down here!” There was a puff of smoke and Buffy appeared. “Well that’s hardly the usual chant I respond to, you know, William,” she chastised, stepping out of the smoke. “Since when are you in New York?” “Since when are you in New York?” he countered. “Since 1953 actually,” she admitted. “That would be why you didn’t come to Noël’s funeral,” he growled. “No, I was in Arashamahar for that, one of D’Hoffryn’s ‘Be the Best Vengeance Demon you can Be‘ conferences. I was glad that you were there for her though,” said Buffy sadly. “Makes up for missing Christopher’s.” Spike lost some of his rage. “I...Dru...” Buffy clenched her fist, an action not lost on Spike. “I don’t want to hear about her,” demanded Buffy. “What do you want? I have things to do.” “The Slayer is mine, Buffy. I’ve been tracking her for ages,” started Spike walking towards his former lover. “And you can have her, after I get a wish out of her child. I’m not interested in the Slayer. It’s not worth the aggravation trying to get a wish out of someone like that.” Spike nodded, his eyes sweeping over her appearance, little changed from the last time he saw her, with the exception of the purple hair. Her outfit though...He curled his tongue behind his teeth in a very obvious leer. “Dress up for me, pet?” he asked, his cock already becoming hard in his ripped jeans. Buffy looked down at her outfit and then back at Spike’s and smiled. Spike would actually probably appreciate the praise of the Doc Martins too. Her fishnet stockings and pleated plaid skirt had captured his gaze though. And here she would have thought it’d be the Sex Pistols’ concert T shirt. “Hardly,” she finally growled. “Like the hair though,” she continued, waving her hand towards his bleached and spiked locks. “Hate yours.” Buffy pouted for a second. “You don’t like the purple?” she asked, fingering a lock of her hair. Spike couldn’t resist the pull of her lip. He stepped closer towards her and reached out his hand to touch her dyed locks. “You’ll always be my golden goddess,” he murmured. “Except when your dark princess calls you to her side,” she muttered, roughly pulling away from him. “Is that all you wanted?” she asked, a cold look in her eye. “I have things to do.” She stared him down, daring him silently to keep her here. In a puff of smoke she was gone. _________________________________________ She should have known he wouldn’t leave well enough alone. Buffy peered out from under her black umbrella into the pouring rain, watching with thoughtful eyes as Spike fought the Slayer she had told him to leave alone. The little boy, Robin, watched on, hidden behind a park bench. Her heart went out to the little boy. He shouldn’t have to see his mother be killed right in front of him. Not that Buffy wanted Spike dust either. Stepping across the street and into the park in which the slayer and vampire fought, Buffy caught the eye of the little boy in the rain coat and smiled. He smiled back “Well, all right. Got the moves, don't you? I'm gonna ride you hard before I put you away, luv,” came Spike’s voice through the rain. You won’t be riding anyone Spike, grumbled Buffy internally. “You sure about that? You actually look a little wet and limp to me. And I ain't your ‘luv‘.“ Buffy stifled a chuckle at the Slayer’s quip before letting her attention drift to the little boy behind the park bench. She wanted nothing more than sit down on that bench and watch the two adversaries fight each other to the death, but she had a job to do. The look in Robin’s eyes was tragic. He wanted the fight to stop, for his mother to take him home and tuck him into bed. Nothing more. The fight raged on until Spike had the Slayer and was about to sink in his fangs. Buffy panicked. Fangs in another Slayer’s neck and right in front of her. It was like China all over again. Buffy looked around to see just where Dru was this time. Robin kicked over a garbage can and the fight took a new turn, much to Buffy’s delight. Until the Slayer drew a stake and threw it at his chest. “No!” she screamed, stepping out from behind the tree she had been hiding behind and into the rain, forgetting about her umbrella. Spike caught the stake with ease only inches from his chest. The Vampire and the Vengeance Demon locked eyes for a second, his gaze returning to the deadly woman in front of him. “ I spent a long time trying to track you down. Don't want the dance to end so soon, do you, Nikki? The music's just starting, isn't it?” Spike tossed the stake at her feet and turned to walk away, leaving the Slayer and the snack sized morsel behind the bench, but also Buffy to the rain. A delicious grin came over his face and he turned back, swinging around a lamppost as he did, staring the Slayer down. “By the way...love the coat.” Buffy rolled her eyes teleporting away before the Slayer could notice her presence. _________________________________________ Two hours later, Buffy teleported into the spare bedroom of the Watcher’s house, where Robin was tossing and turning but not actually sleeping. Tucking her purple hair behind her ear, she crouched down beside the bed. “Hey,” she started softly. He didn’t respond, looking confused. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you, not like that vampire in park. I’ve been watching you. I’ve decided that you’ve been a good little boy. You know what happens sometimes to good little boys and girls?” asked Buffy. Robin shook his head against his pillow, sheets pulled up to his chin. “They sometimes get one wish to come true. Do you have a wish you’d like me to grant?” “Are you like a Genie?” he asked. “Sorta,” giggled Buffy. “I grant wishes, just like a genie, but only one, not three, so you have to think really hard about what you want, ‘k?” Robin nodded his head. “I know what I want,” he finally said, softly. Buffy nodded. “I wish the mission was over,” he said softly. Buffy stood up and shifted her face into demonic guise. “Wish granted,” stated Buffy simply, before disappearing in a puff of smoke leaving Robin with a smile on his face. Across town, in a subway car, Nikki Wood’s neck was snapped. _________________________________________ Buffy appeared in the rain blocks away from the watcher’s house. The drops of rain mingled with the tears that had trailed down her face. In all her years as a vengeance demon, she had never before taken the life of another slayer. Startled out her contemplation of wrongs, past and present, by the splash of a car driving through a puddle, Buffy put up her umbrella and walked, just walked, through the darkened streets of New York. When he spied her, finally coming out of the subway station, she was wet through and crying, the umbrella she kept over her head moving along with her sobs. Spike adjusted the collar of his new coat and made his way over to her, his Doc Martin’s splashing in the puddles. Standing in front of her, ducking so that the umbrella wouldn’t poke him in the eye, he caught her chin with two fingers and raised her gaze to his. “Hey cutie,” he greeted, smiling. “Vengeance sucks,” she whimpered, raising her arms to settle on his shoulders before sobbing into the leather coat he was wearing. Carefully he picked her up letting her rest her head on his shoulder, her little fingers holding onto his trophy. Without a word she opened a portal, her sobs becoming more controlled. Stepping through the portal, Spike laid her down up on her bed, cupping her cheek with his hand as he stepped away and began to remove her boots. Buffy realised what he was doing and sat up, perplexed. “Why are you being all nice?” she questioned. “You shouldn’t cry love. It’s your job, it’s not who you are,” he started. “It’s all I have,” she moaned, stretching her foot out as he removed her fun boots. “That’s not true luv,” he tried to soothe her. “It feels true,” she sniffled, makeup running down her face. He started unlacing her other boot. “And again I ask, what’s up with the being non snarky Spike? Aren’t you supposed to be all grr and wanna shag a lot, you did just kill Slayer number two... Where’s your ho bag of a sire?” she inquired, reaching for a handkerchief and wiping her eyes. “New Orleans,” he answered with a glare. “I came up here when I heard about the slayer bird. She’ll call when she wants me.” “As ever,” noted Buffy with a roll of her eyes. “Probably the moment you sink your teeth into me. And don’t you look at me like that, you know as well as I do what happens when we occupy the same space for any length of time. You get all growly and possessive and I get all ‘Fuck me, I’m yours’.” Spike tossed her boot side and laughed. “You are quite the stroke to a vamp’s ego, pet.” Buffy lay back on her bed and closed her eyes for a moment, enjoying the feather light touches Spike was ghosting along her legs. She exhaled accepting that, yes, she would be ending up stroking a lot more than his ego tonight. She raised herself up onto her elbows and stared into his blue eyes. “Did you bite her?” she asked plainly. Spike was a tad bit caught off guard by her question, a puzzled expression on his face. “The Slayer? Did you bite her? Did you fuck her?” Buffy continued bitterly. “Jealousy doesn’t become you, pet,” he said, standing up from the edge of her bed and kicking off his boots. “Answer the question Spike,” demanded the former Slayer, not noticing his actions at all. “We fought, I won. The end.” Buffy‘s eyes scrutinized him. “And you are telling me that given the opportunity to sample the best blood a vampire can drink, the blood of a Slayer and you turned it down?” she asked, her eyes staring into his meanly. “This one was an equal,” he conceded. “Worthy opponent and all that rot.” He crawled up on the bed beside her, his arms wrapping around her tenderly. With a sigh, Buffy laid her head on his shoulder. “She made me jealous,” the former slayer admitted, snuggling up against him, the leather of the coat soft against her cheek. “I know, I could smell it,” he said, sticking his face into her hair and inhaling deeply. “I shouldn’t be jealous though. We were over before we even began. Christopher’s gone. Noël’s gone, there’s nothing keeping us connected anymore.” “Except the marks on your neck, Buffy.” Buffy snorted. He turned to face her, his face serious. “You’re mine, Buffy. My mark on your neck. No other vamp will sink their fangs into you.” “As if I’d let any other vamp bite me. I’m not just some feed you know.” “Right, powerful demon girl you are,” he conceded. “You better believe it, Vampire.” “Still mine,” he argued with a raised eyebrow. “You never made it official. Never claimed me. You aren’t mine. You belong to Drusilla. Even if she hasn’t made it official on her end. You don’t belong to me. You aren’t in love with me.” She stared into his blue eyes a moment, waiting for him to say something, anything. She wanted him to admit it, or deny it or even just look away from her uncomfortable gaze. Instead he shifted into demonic guise, fangs bared and bit into her neck. Instantly wet and ready for him to slip his cock into her folds, Buffy wrapped her legs around him awkwardly wanting as much contact with him as possible. It was as if he had pulled out a secret weapon to make her cease being angry with him. That thing he did with his fangs was priceless. His hands disengaged from her arms and slid down between them, unzipping his jeans and letting his hard cock out to play. Settling himself between her thighs he reached under her skirt and painfully ripped away her silk panties, before sliding his length deep within her pussy. Buffy gasped as he filled her, his fangs still in her neck, moving within her. She clenched her inner muscles around him, countering his thrusts. With a snarl, Spike tore his fangs out of her neck, and pressed his lips against hers. His thrusts were violent, harsh, bruising, against her pelvis, a stark contrast to his earlier gentle actions. Slamming against her roughly and still in game face, Spike growled out his satisfaction as she took his brutal use. With a glare she shifted into her own demonic face and countered his punishing thrusts with her own, both demons seeking to outdo each other. She wanted to be mad at him, she wanted him to beg forgiveness, to pledge his undying and immortal love. It was an unrealistic ideal though. Even as he pounded into her wet core, his length sliding in and out and hitting that bundle of nerves that in a few short minutes would cause her to scream out his name, she knew that he’d go back. He always went back, to her. Buffy dug her fingernails into his skin, drawing blood, as she screamed out his name. A harsh thrust and he was roaring out her name as well, collapsing against her skin, her wet channel milking his cock as it softened inside her. They lay there motionless for a few moments, Buffy debating whether or not to kick him out of her bed now instead of waiting for him to feel Dru call to him. Slowly he drew away and began to right his clothing. “And he’s off,” she noted, laying back upon her pillows. “I’ve got to go,” he tried to explain. “Right...Dru...” Buffy stood up and smiled sadly. She knew this was how it was going to end, just like all the other times. “Well it was nice while it lasted. See you in 30 years or so?” she asked, half seriously. She opened a portal and guided her vampire to it sadly. Thirty years was a long time between shags. _________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #25 - Family Ties

Disclaimer: The characters of BTVS belong to Joss Whedon and various entities/companies none of which I have any affiliation with. Author’s note: Some dialogue taken from “Double Meat Palace” and “Older and Far Away” Thanks to Bloodytearsoflife for the betaing and the great advice. Thanks to Cewcew, margaret, CM, Marzbar, Idk, and Tasha for the great reviews! _________________________________________ Chapter 25: Family Ties Buffy teleported into her New York apartment, blood smattering her clothes as usual. She had long given up being frustrated at the amount of clothes she went through in the course of a week. At least she’d found out about the joys of stain remover. Her apartment was pock marked with burns all over the floor indicating the number of times and places she’d entered via portal into the place. There was one spot on the floor that was unusual though. The doorway, seldom used, its pristine hardwood floor holding a strange white envelope. She had mail. Curiously Buffy picked up the envelope and inspected it. It had been years since she had gotten anything in the mail. She didn’t even know if anyone who actually had this address was alive anymore. Noting the address was correct and that the name on the envelope was hers, Buffy opened it, her heart fluttering with nervousness. Xander Harris and Anya Jenkins request your presence to celebrate our joyous union in married bliss Bison Lodge, Sunnydale, California March 3 2002 RSVP Buffy couldn’t help the nervous giggle that issued from her lips. _________________________________________ Buffy teleported into a very well lit apartment, kinda reminded her of what her New York apartment looked like when she had first acquired it in 1953. There was a man, with large upper arms and a dim expression, sitting on the couch, talking to someone in another room. “Ahn, that was Liz, she's working late, so I might have to go- yah!” yelled the large man. Buffy understood the reaction, she was in her game face. It tended to strike terror into the hearts of those she was called to do vengeance upon. This is going to be fun, she thought. “I have been called, and vengeance shall I wreak.” She was doing an excellent job of sounding completely serious. Buffy pointed at the large man on the couch. “Cower, masculine one ... tremble as you face my wrath!” Buffy loved how the man was cowering further into the couch. It was comical really. She really enjoyed her job. Buffy turned her attention as another being entered the room, unaware of her presence. “Xander, I'm starting to think that maybe we should do a pot-luck thing,” said Anyanka. “Honey?” asked the man on the couch. There was a gasp from Anyanka as the former demon saw her friend. “Hello. I am here to tear this man apart. How many pieces do you wish?” asked Buffy keeping up the joke. “Erixel!“ cried Anyanka happily. “Anyanka!“ gushed Buffy. “I’m so happy to see you!“ Buffy continued leaning in to hug her friend. “How are you, how are you?” asked Anyanka. “You two ... you know each other?” asked the large man on the couch, his eyes darting between them. “Funny, Erixel, I didn't summon you to kill Xander. I called to invite you to our wedding” explained Anyanka. “I got the invitation only a couple of minutes ago. I’ve got to see the ring!“ Anyanka presented her hand to her friend. “Wow, it’s beautiful Anyanka!” Buffy exclaimed, examining the ring from every angle. The man, Xander, stood up. “Wow, um, you two clearly have some catching up to do. So I'll, uh ... I'll not be in the apartment.” Buffy gave him a critical eye as the man left the apartment. The two friends shared a look and then flopped down on the now vacant couch. “Gosh, it's swell to see you again, Rixy, I didn't mean to have you materialize all the way here, I mean, not-not till the ceremony, I mean.” Buffy laughed. “I wanted to surprise you! I haven’t seen you in years! So, um ... you're marrying that man with the large upper arms?” Anyanka smiled. “Yes.” “Why?” she asked puzzled. If there was one thing Anya had always been certain about it was that men were designed to be used and tossed away. “Well,” she started. “Because I love him.” “Oh?” “Oh, we're gonna be very happy together.” “Uh huh. Tea?“ __________________________________________ Tea was produced, served on Anyanka’s collection of fine china cups, a throw back to the days when just the two of them had tea on a regular basis. “Tell me more about Xander,” asked Buffy, genuinely interested in this incredibly human man that Anyanka had fallen in love with. “You keep asking about him. Do you think I'm making a mistake?” “Do you?” she countered back. “Well, no! Xander, he... He's very kind, and brave ... he has the sweetest smile and the nicest body, and ... he loves me. I mean, sometimes it isn't easy, but, he does.” “Who told you that it isn't easy to love you?” “Well, you know, I'll do something, or say something, and, and then he has to say stuff like, 'it's incorrect for you to appreciate money so much,' or, or, 'Observe: here is how a real human would behave.'“ “Oh, so he corrects you?” asked Buffy, looking for clarification. “Well, no, it's just ... um ... well, no, I mean, now I'm all confused, I mean, what, do you think there's something wrong with, with the way he treats me?” “Do you?” asked Buffy. “Okay, you have to stop doing that. I love Xander,” she stated with a nod of her head. “Even though he thinks he knows better than you?” “B-but he doesn't, he doesn't think that.” Buffy didn‘t comment right away, but took a sip from her teacup. “I was just curious. I want what is best for you Anyanka, you are my friend. My first friend as a demon, and I want you to be happy. If you say that this Xander person is the your soulmate, then I’ll be right there behind you. I have never found it hard to love you. You are my best friend.“ “Aww! Rixy! You are too sweet! Of course that’s cause Reagan what’s her name is dead.“ Buffy laughed. “Yes, Reagan is no longer alive. But that doesn‘t mean what I‘ve said isn‘t true. She never understood the demon thing.“ Anya nodded in understanding. “Tried to get you to be a Watcher, while you were a demon! Oh that was fun!“ __________________________________________ Buffy smiled sweetly across the desk from her potential vengeance seeker. This one reminded her of Annette. She missed Annette. She missed whom Annette had initially reminded her of, her little sister Danielle. “Just a follow-up after your ... your loss. And since I'm new here, I thought it would give us a chance to know each other,” began Buffy knowing exactly how to approach this subject. Buffy had eagerly looked over all the files at this school and this one had caught her attention. Of course it helped that Buffy could feel this girl’s pain, her despair at her neglect, how no one paid attention to her like she deserved. “Great,” responded the teen a little hesitantly. “So, I've been looking through your file and, um ... your grades have slipped a little,” she commented, flipping through the file for a second before looking back up at the teen. “I have really hard classes this quarter.” “Yeah, still. Teachers say that you seem a little distracted lately.” “I'm not. I-I'm fine.” The girl sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than anything else. “Okay. It's just, you know, I know it must seem weird, talking to a stranger about stuff, but, um ... I want you to know that if something's going on, something's up, my job ... the most important part of my job ... is looking out for you.” Buffy smiled at the teen. Yep, if she had half a mind to, this Dawn Summers would be the perfect girl to take Annette’s place. Summers, Buffy chuckled to herself. I haven’t heard that name in a long time. Absently she wondered if the Watcher’s Council records still maintained that Anne Summers was a demon hunter. The teen smiled back. “I'm really okay,” Dawn said with a small smile. Buffy leaned back in her chair. She was bringing out the big guns now. “I know there's been ... a lot of loss.” Dawn looked down to her hands. “Yeah. Kinda,” the teen began quietly, finally looking up as she continued. “I-I mean, yes. People keep ... people have a tendency to go away ... and, I miss them. And sometimes ... I wish I could just make them stop. Going away.” Another wish to add to the tally. Buffy smiled. “But seriously, it's, it's no big deal. I'm fine,” said the girl waving her hands. Buffy sat back and let the girl continue on about how she’s doing much better, how much her whole family was doing better. Buffy nodded. There was something much more familiar about this girl, other than the passing resemblance to Annette. She had always thought that Annette had looked like her little sister. Dawn Summers...No it couldn’t be. __________________________________________ Buffy arrived at the child’s house, a comfortable looking home but one with a lot of people in it that called out for vengeance. Hiding in the shadows, Buffy waited for the door to close before stepping into the light and doing what she did best. Buffy shifted into her demonic guise and uttered the words that made her famous. “Wish granted.” __________________________________________ Buffy was pursuing another wisher when she heard a summons. “Rixy, get your ass down here!“ came Anyanka’s voice into her head. Buffy rolled her eyes and teleported to her friend’s location, which happened to be inside of the home of the last wish she granted.. “You shriek and I appear,“ said Buffy sounding bored, her demonic face conveying the emotion. Suddenly, there was a piercing feeling in her chest. Buffy looked down to see a sword poking out her front. Now that was something that turned her stomach, even after all these years. Metal swords should not be poking out of her body. Buffy collapsed to the ground. The next words Buffy heard came from Anyanka’s lips. “Her pendant! Get her pendant!” Buffy sat up right away, deflecting her would be pendant stealers. Experience told her that being without the pendant led to badness. “There will be no touching of the pendant,” snapped Buffy hoisting herself off the floor. The stares around the room were hard to ignore. “What?” Buffy laughed. “Did you think I'd be stopped by a sword in the chest? Flesh wound. Honestly, Anyanka, you used to know better.” Anyanka approached with a look of pure disbelief. “How could you? Why would you do this?” “I told you I was going to take care of some business while I was here in town,” explained Buffy brushing herself off. “Yeah, but cursing us? Some of them are in the wedding party,” continued Anyanka. “I just go where I'm...” Buffy trailed off as she was distracted by movement to her right and the shock of platinum hair and blue eyes she last saw almost thirty years ago. “William?” Spike frowned “Hey, wait a minute.” “You guys know each other?” a voice cut through Buffy’s trance. A blond with green eyes grabbed Buffy’s attention for a moment. Buffy couldn’t help her blush, but then she hadn’t seen him in years. He was still gorgeous as ever. Except he looked beat up. Buffy took a step towards him and raise her hand up to his cheek. “What happened Spike?“ she asked tenderly. Spike backed up from her and shook his head. “Nothing new, vampire, pet. Get my fair share of licks.“ Buffy nodded her head. “Yes, that’s true, you looked terrible after you killed your second Slayer didn’t you?“ “I thought vengeance demons only punished men who wronged women,” said a soft looking blonde from the rest of the group. “Oh, that was Anya's little raison d'être. Everyone has their own niche. Though we are trying to be more PC in this day and age, Justice Demons,” explained Buffy. “Niche? Is that how you explain your thing for bad parents?” retorted Anyanka. “You always agreed with my chosen clients before Anyanka. Remember the family in Paris? The abuser and philanderer? The children really do need me.” “Hmm! *cough*Daddy issues*cough,*” fake coughed Anya. “Oy that’s not fair, demon girl!“ spoke up Spike. Buffy held out a hand to Spike, her eyes thanking him for coming to her defence. “Sling all the little barbs at me that you want, Anyanka, it doesn't change the fact that this girl was in pain,” Buffy pointed towards Dawn, “and none of you could hear it. I could hear her crying out everywhere I went in this town. It was unbearable. And none of you knew.” Buffy looked at the various people in the room, each other them looking appropriately guilty and upset. “You people deserve to be cursed. And just for the record, Anyanka. I was an orphan, so I very well can’t have daddy issues if my daddy was viciously murdered by Angelus could I?” “Excuse me?” asked the blonde with the green eyes. “Hold on. So the knowing each other, check. But your father was killed by Angelus?“ asked the girl. “Liz, we don’t have time for conversation, Richard needs to get to the hospital,“ Xander reminded her. “Right,“ noted Liz. “Let us out.“ “Why?“ asked Buffy. “I’m stuck in here with you too, we could have a grand old time. Spike and I clearly need to catch up. It’s been thirty years give or take.“ Liz put her hands on her hips. “Not good enough.“ Buffy looked the blonde over. There was something familiar about her too. Buffy looked at Dawn, then at Liz, back at Spike and then at Liz again. “Answer me a question then, your name is Liz? Family name?“ Buffy turned back to Spike and then Anyanka. “Did you two know about this?“ her voice almost frantic. Anyanka shook her head and Spike looked confused. Anyanka began circling Liz peering over the girl. “I had no idea, Erixel. But now that you mention it...“ “Mention what?!“ exclaimed Liz. “Spike! What the hell is going on?“ “She’s the Slayer, Erixel, did you know that?“ asked Anyanka. “Really?“ said Buffy happily, shifting out of her demon visage and smiling. Liz gasped as she beheld Buffy’s human looking face. She reached out as if to touch Buffy’s face, pulling back at the last moment. “Anya? Please tell me what’s going on?“ pleaded Liz, her eyes darting between Anya and Erixel. “Erixel here is your great great great grandmother,“ said Anyanka. “Huh?“ __________________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #26 - History

Disclaimer: Joss owns the characters, I play with them. Author’s note: Some dialogue taken from ‘Older and Far Away’ Here’s where it gets sorta confusing. Buffy=Erixel, you know, that girl you’ve been reading about for the past 25 chapters, Liz=Joss’ Buffy. Thanks to Bloodytearsoflife for the great betaing and making Spike feel more icky. Thanks to Chanel 5, Cewcew, idk, Marzbar and nichole for the great reviews. _________________________________________ Chapter 26: History Buffy had no problem lifting the curse; it was a relief to get the various not necessary people out of the way. “So this is where you’ve been,” said Buffy, as she and Spike sat on the living room couch. “Last five or so years.” “Where’s Dru?” Buffy asked. “Brazil somewhere,” Spike muttered. Buffy’s heart leapt with joy for a moment. Of course that meant nothing in the long run. He‘d been away from Dru the same amount of time during the last world war and he‘d still gone back to her. “So you aren’t attached at the hip anymore?” she asked hopefully. “No.” Buffy smiled for a moment, until she realised just where Spike’s gaze was focused. In another part of the house, Liz was having a discussion with Dawn. Spike was listening to that conversation first. “You’ve fallen in love with Elizabeth,” observed Buffy, sadly. “You do seem to have a thing for Slayers, William.” Spike exhaled a breath. “Ya, I do at that. But to be fair pet, I didn’t know you were one until after the fact.” Spike reached up and fingered Buffy’s golden locks. “Glad to see you went back to your natural colour, pet. “ Buffy laughed, “You didn’t like the purple?” she asked. “It was the seventies Spike and as I recall, you didn’t complain too much when you were biting me.” “No love, you have the sweetest demon blood ever.” “Have you bitten her?” Buffy asked, not bothering to hide her jealousy. Spike shook his head. “No, she doesn’t love me. Wouldn’t sully her virtue with the likes of me. Nothing’s happened, not likely to, not now, or ever.” The couple on the couch had their attention drawn by Liz’s return into the living room. “Make with the explaining,” the current slayer ordered. Buffy smiled. “Forceful little thing isn’t she?” asked Buffy turning to Spike. “What would you like to know?” “Well for starters, how about just how can a vengeance demon be my grandmother?” questioned Liz, her voice getting angrier and angrier. “Oooh I have a family tree!” exclaimed Dawn, holding out a piece of paper. Dawn’s excitement was contagious. Eagerly Buffy took the paper from Dawn and looked it over. She followed the paternal line of the two girls in front of her until she met the name, Henry Christopher Underwood Summers, Brother of Isabella Elizabeth and William Thomas where the information stopped. Buffy willed away a tear, touching the names tenderly. “Henry Christopher Underwood Summers, was my grandson,” Buffy stated simply. “He changed his name to hide. He was born Henry Christopher Fairchilde, the son of Christopher William Fairchilde, my son.” “How is that possible? Demons, vengeance demons can’t reproduce.” “Who told you that?” Buffy asked. “My watcher.” Buffy shook her head. The Council would never change. “What your watcher told you is completely untrue. Vengeance demons are merely humans elevated. Without their pendant they are just as they were before they were elevated. To have a child was certainly not what I was expecting, but it happened. Do you have a pen?” she asked. Dawn offered the pen she had waiting in her hand eagerly. “I can’t believe that you are related to us, you’ve got to be ancient, like Anya, right?” Buffy smiled up at the teen. “Good grief no, I’m young compared to Anyanka. Turned 138 a couple of days ago.” Buffy turned her attention to the paper in front of her and wrote in, Christopher, Kristina, Noël, her name and the name of Christopher’s father in the blank spaces. She handed the paper back to Dawn. “Elizabeth Cecily Underwood and William Thomas Fairchilde,” said Dawn reading off the paper. “Shouldn’t our last name be Fairchilde then?” The teen wrinkled her nose. “Yes, I suppose it should be,” conceded Buffy, with a sideways glance at Spike. “Is William Fairchilde a demon too? Is he still alive?” asked Dawn, intently looking at the paper. “Yes, he is,” said Buffy glancing at the shocked looking Vampire. “Elizabeth Cecily Underwood. Wait, I know that name...” said Liz confused. “I was a Slayer, before I was elevated, you probably read about me in the Watcher’s diaries.” “Oh,” said the very articulate Slayer. “You were a Slayer and you let yourself be elevated to demonhood? Did you get dropped at birth?” “No, Elizabeth. It’s a long story, if you are interested in hearing it.” “So if you are only 138, then did you know Spike when you were human?” asked Dawn. Buffy nodded. “William and I are old friends,” she explained and Liz gave her a glare. Dawn sat down on the couch next to Buffy eagerly awaiting more information. “Tell me? Please, Spike doesn’t talk about his human days at all!” Buffy laughed pleasantly, while Spike scowled. “Can I change my last name to Fairchilde?” asked Dawn. A look of horror passed over Buffy’s face. “You can’t!” exclaimed Buffy, who jumped as if becoming aware of her surroundings. “Oh D’Hoffryn! I’ve stayed too long already!” Buffy stood up from the couch and looked at Dawn’s pained face for a second. With a sigh she crouched on the floor beside the teen and raised a hand to caress the teen’s cheek. “Oh, Dawn. I can’t stay; I put you in danger if I stay too long. I had to hide Christopher to save him from a demon that wanted to use my offspring as a sacrifice. You are in just as much danger.” Buffy pressed a kiss to Dawn’s forehead. “I am so glad I found my family again though! I’ll come visit you again, when I’ve taken better precautions. Okay?” Dawn nodded. Buffy stood again and looked harshly at Liz who was standing confused in the middle of the room. “You really are the spitting image of me, my dear,” said Buffy proudly. “No wonder he fell in love with you,” she continued with a look at Spike who was still glaring. “I don’t think you’ll be bothered with his unwanted advances now though.” And with that she teleported away. __________________________________________ Spike stepped into his crypt and slammed the door angrily. He stomped to his fridge and took out a jar of blood, taking a swig and snarling. “Are you angry at the blood? Or is something else wrong?” asked Buffy, appearing in a puff of smoke. “How could you not know? How could you keep it from me!” she asked angrily. “You know I was looking for Henry and Isabella’s children!” Spike put down his jar of blood and stalked towards her shaking form. “Buffy, love, I didn’t know,” he tried to reassure her. “I should have. I would have told you if I knew!” “She looks just like me!” she wailed. “How could you not know!” “To be fair, pet, your hair was purple the last time I saw you.” “Oh like that makes a difference! William!” she yelled as was rewarded with Spike’s undivided attention. “Liz and Dawn, they are our family!” “You gave the bit a right scare when you disappeared like that, you know,” Spike muttered, putting the blood back in the fridge. Buffy nodded. “I didn’t mean to scare her. Tell me about them, please, you’ve been here for five years. Tell me about them. Where are their parents?” Spike sat down on a sarcophagus and patted the stone beside him. Buffy sat down beside him and prepared herself for the story. ________________________ “I need to find Hank,” declared Buffy angrily as she sat up from the tomb, vengeance on her mind. Spike reached out and gripped her arm. “No sense in performing vengeance on our kin, pet. The best thing that Hank Summers can do for his children is to leave them be.” “How can you say that?” she questioned. “Cause I got to know his ex wife, right nice lady she was. Heard enough stories to know that she was glad that Hank was out of the Slayer’s and the Bit’s life.” Buffy nodded in understanding but pouted anyways. “I can still feel Dawn calling out for vengeance you know. She’s got a lot of anger in her. Liz too. What her friends did...” “Leave it be, Buffy,” warned Spike. “You can only make it worse.” “I don’t believe that.” “Liz isn’t a happy person right now, before the whole kissing business, which frankly turns my stomach now, she was opening up. She doesn’t want to be here. And her Watcher abandoned her to grow up, not realising that she’s about to fall apart.” “They need a parent.” “That they do,” he agreed. Buffy smiled. “Good thing that they’ve got two here in town don’t they?” Spikes eyes expanded and he held up a hand. “Oh, hold on a mo there pet. I’m no one’s parent. Christopher’s gone. Liz and Dawn, they don’t want me around parenting them!” “Maybe Liz doesn’t. Dawn does though. I won’t tell them who you are if you don’t want to. Just promise me that you won’t duck out on them,” Buffy pleaded. “I don’t leave them!” he protested angrily and Buffy smiled, pleased. “Glad to hear it. Now that I’ve found them. I don’t plan on leaving them either. First I need to make sure I’m not tracked, though.” Spike nodded. “The Immortal still giving you troubles?” Buffy rolled her eyes. “He was in New York last week for a fashion show and had to come look me up, for old times’ sake. Got a couple of the models to curse him with a small dick and a case of the clap. Nothing big...He’s still getting girl’s pregnant and sacrificing his children every 20 or so years.” “We’ve got to keep him away from Dawn and Liz,” muttered Spike absently. “Or get Liz to fulfill my wish. Only one of our descendants can kill him. I wished it.” Spike looked at Buffy, shocked. “And you know, you kissed your own great granddaughter right?” Buffy asked, trying to divert Spike’s mind from making a deal about the wish. “Oh bloody hell!” ________________________ Buffy rang the doorbell of 1630 Revello Drive, slightly nervous about just how this meeting would go. The sun was down. It had taken her a day and a half to close up her New York apartment and to put out word to her demon friends that she was going to Australia for a couple of months. She knew that the Immortal kept track of her. Most of the time it didn’t matter where she was. She’d lost track of her family, there was no way to lead the Immortal to them. Now it had all changed. Slowly the door opened and Dawn peeked her head around the corner of the door. “Erixel?” asked Dawn curious as to why the demon was on the other side of the door. “Dawn!” greeted Buffy happily. “I told you that I’d come back.” “Liz told me not to let you in,” continued Dawn. “Oh,” noted Buffy, disappointed. “She’s out patrolling.” “You’re all alone?” Buffy exclaimed sadly. Dawn nodded. “Everyone else has things to do that are more important than spending time with me,” the teen continued bitterly. “Well if I’m not allowed in, you want to come with me? I can answer all those questions that are burning in your mind. I don’t have to come in.” Dawn thought for a moment before giving Buffy a bright smile. “Let me grab my coat. You aren’t going to abduct me are you? Liz warned me that you are evil.” “She’s a Slayer, they are programmed that way. I know, I used to be one. How about this. You know Spike’s crypt? I’ll meet you there. Spike’s there. He’ll protect you from the evil that is me. ’Kay?” Dawn agreed and quickly turned to gather her coat. ________________________ “The Slayer has her programmed,” muttered Buffy as she teleported into the crypt. “It’s for her own protection,” answered Spike, grabbing his duster from his easy chair. “I’ll go watch for Dawn. Bit shouldn’t be roaming cemeteries in the dark.” Spike went to reach for the door handle, only to have the door open, revealing an out of breath Dawn. “Ran...didn’t...want...the vamps...to catch me,” the teen panted, taking off her coat and laying it on the back of Spike‘s chair. “Well you are bloody hell not doing that again!” chastised Spike. He turned back to Buffy. “You take her back to her house, when you are all done.” Buffy snorted at him. “Yes, dear,” she intoned, sarcastically. At Dawn’s questioning look Buffy blushed. “He’s just frustrated, and scared I’m going to out him.” “Am not!” the vampire protested. “Whatever, William,” answered Buffy, drawing Dawn towards one of the tombs in the crypt and sitting down upon it. “I’m so glad you came.” Dawn sat down on the tomb beside her, as Spike found himself a comfy spot in his easy chair. Buffy reached out and touched Dawn’s hair tenderly. “You look just like my sister.” Buffy smiled. “And you have your great great great grandfather’s eyes. Don’t you think so Spike?” “Not answering that question, Buffy,” Spike replied. “Is your name really Buffy?” asked Dawn. “It sounds silly.” Buffy laughed. “Maybe, but it was what my father called me when I was a little girl. Spike calls me it occasionally. I’ve gone by a whole whack of names in my time. Elizabeth as a Slayer, Buffy to my friends, Cecily in society, Anne as a watcher, Erixel as a demon...” “You were a watcher?” asked Dawn excitedly. “My best friend was one, she tried to get me to give up the demon thing and give being a Watcher a try.” “That’s messed up,” Dawn commented. “Damn straight it was, nothing more ridiculous than her parading around with red hair and taking tea with watchers,” interrupted Spike. “Hold on, she was a watcher, and you were friends with her?” asked Dawn. “Are you insane? Watcher...Vampire?” “I was a Slayer first, and William wasn’t always a vampire, Dawn,” continued Buffy. “K, so let me get this straight. William’s a human. Elizabeth is a Slayer. Then William gets turned and is still friends with Elizabeth the Slayer?” asked Dawn. “I wouldn’t say friends exactly, bit.” “And he didn’t know I was a Slayer.” “Didn’t know her name was Elizabeth either,” Spike added. “I’m confused...” started Dawn. “I don’t blame you one bit, Bite Size,” smirked Spike. “It confuses the hell out of me too sometimes.” “Oh quiet you!” mocked shouted Buffy. “So what was Spike like as a human?” asked Dawn eagerly. “Bit...” warned Spike. Buffy gave a sigh and looked at a sport over Dawn‘s shoulder. “He was gorgeous, and kind and gentle. He was the most wonderful man I knew,” declared Buffy succumbing to the nostalgia. “And I was falling in love with him.” “Awww,” cooed Dawn. “Why didn’t you get married? ’Cause well, if you were in love, and well it was like the 1800’s didn’t people get married a lot then?” “’Cause I had the Council dictating my every move, Dawn,” admitted Buffy. “I hate the Council.” Spike smirked. “Right wankers they were last year showing up and putting the Slayer through the motions just to tell her that they didn’t know how to beat Glory.” “They were nasty when I was a Slayer too.” “But you became one?” asked Dawn again. “Not quite, if I’d stuck around long enough. If I had stuck around longer...” “If you hadn’t been found out by your watcher at Reagan’s wedding,” added Spike. “That too,” admitted Buffy. “So, William Fairchilde huh?” asked Dawn, sneaking a sly glance at Spike. “You sure I can’t change my name to Fairchilde?” “No!” barked both Buffy and Spike at the same time. “Summers-Fairchilde? Fairchilde-Summers? Come on! Hyphenated names are all ‘posh’ and English. Like Wesley’s name! One of Liz’s watchers. Not that I want to be like him all stiff and English. Way more than Giles...” “Giles?” asked Buffy startled at Dawn’s introduction of the name into the conversation. “Giles. Liz’s Watcher,” Dawn elaborated. “He’s in England now.” “My watcher was named Giles too,” said Buffy softly. “Got to be related.” “Cool!” bounced Dawn. “It’s like Liz and you are mirrors of each other. Both have watchers named Giles. Both got a thing for Spike...” “Your sis does not have thing for me!” protested Spike. He was deeply icked by the fact that he’d had more than platonic thoughts about his granddaughter and was considering douching himself in holy water just because of it. “Sure, whatever, Spike.” Suddenly, the crypt resonated with a loud crash. In the doorway, Liz stood, her arms crossed and looking mighty angry. “What the hell are you doing with my sister?” asked Liz. Spike stood up from his chair and approached the Slayer. “In polite society it is customary to knock on the door of someone’s home, Slayer,” noted Spike. “Shut up, Spike,” Liz snapped, stepping around him and walking towards Buffy and Dawn on the tomb. “I wasn’t doing anything!” protested Dawn. “Just talking. Erixel’s way cool! Did you know she was a Slayer and a Watcher? She knew Spike when he was human!” “Well she’s a demon now!” responded Liz, a glare in her eye. “Get your coat Dawn. We’re going home.” Dawn pouted but hopped down off the tomb and moved to grab her coat. “And you will stay away from my sister,” continued Liz. Buffy’s happy expression fell from her face. “I have no wish to hurt your sister or you for that matter, Elizabeth,” noted Buffy. “Whether or not you like it, I’m family. One of the few members of your family who actually cares about you and Dawn at the moment.” “If you care about your own life, I’d stay away from us,” continued Liz, grabbing Dawn’s hand and dragging her out of the crypt. The crypt door slammed behind them, leaving the vampire and the vengeance demon alone in the cool space. It didn’t take long for Buffy to crumble; long pent up emotions coming to the surface. Her only family didn’t want to have anything to do with her. Spike moved to take her in his arms. She held up a hand to him, halting his progress across the floor. “The Bit likes you, Buffy...” started Spike. Buffy sniffed, cutting him off. “No, it’s alright, Spike. I’m a demon. I shouldn’t have expected to be welcomed with open arms. You’ve been around for five years and still they don’t consider you part of the group.” “Demon girl’s been part of the Scoobies,” Spike pointed out. “Demon girl? Anyanka? Marrying into the group? Ya I see that working out well,” she laughed. She spied a bottle of whiskey on top of his fridge. “You wanna get drunk?” ________________________ tbc...

Chapter #27 - Old Habits

Disclaimer: Joss...sigh...owns them. Author’s note: BTL rocks my socks! Love her to bits! She is a wonderful beta who deserves many huggles daily. _________________________ Chapter 27: Old Habits “Make a wish,” Buffy half slurred sitting atop a sarcophagus in Spike’s crypt, holding a near empty bottle of whiskey in her hand. Sitting in his comfy chair, watching her with amusement, Spike shook his head. “Nope, no wishes, pet. Just get me in trouble.” Buffy nearly stumbled off the tomb and moved towards him with purpose. She sat down haphazardly on the arm of his chair. “Ok, no wishes. Questions! You can do questions right?” she asked as she sat precariously, swaying back and forth. Spike nodded. “So, you’ve been here for five years or so...” “Off and on,” he replied. “And you were all lusty looking at Liz, but Dru never called you back to her side?” she asked her eye brow raised. Spike shook his head. “Actually had to chase after her once. Dumped me for a chaos demon.“ “Ewwwww,“ moaned Buffy. “Gross! With the slime?” “She did come back here, nearly fed Liz to her. I just wanted the Slayer to give me a chance, a crumb of something. Well that’s bullocks now, isn’t it? Bleedin’ hell Cecily!” Drunkenly, Buffy put her hand on his arm. “It’s a very icky feeling I’m having for you right now, William. And I’m not just saying that because I’m going to vomit soon,” she admitted with wide eyes, her face turning slightly green. Spike bolted off the chair and turned her towards the door, barely managing to make it outside before Buffy heaved the contents of her stomach onto the shrubbery. _________________________ Buffy woke up on a soft surface, a hazy feeling muddling her thoughts. Her body stretched instinctively as it began to wake up more and more, her bare foot encountering skin. Cold skin. The room was dark. So dark that she couldn’t see a thing. She could feel though. She ran her foot up against the skin of the person she was in bed with. It smelled like Spike. The cold skin was vampire like, there was no breathing coming from the body next to her. So either it was Spike or he was playing a joke on her and had put a dead body in the bed with her. She didn’t know which scenario was better. Truthfully, she didn’t remember much after what she assumed was the first round of vomiting, because she was pretty certain that she had found another bottle of something or other later on. Suddenly the body in the bed rolled over, trapping her foot underneath his thighs. She lay there pondering exactly what she was supposed to do in the pitch black with her foot under him and suddenly very conscious that she was naked. She smacked herself in the head and groaned in pain. It had been 20 odd years since she saw him last and what did she do? Into bed with him she went. She couldn’t believe herself. Rolling her eyes at her utter lack of self respect, ‘cause yes, she had been trying to get some in the last 15 years or so, she pulled her leg out from under Spike’s body. This unfortunately had an unexpected result. He grabbed her leg. “Spike!” she whispered into the darkness. “Let go!” “Nuh uh,” he purred. “Gonna get me a nummy treat.” “Are you insane?” she asked incredulous. “Passed out before we could ‘reunite’ last night.” Buffy smiled to herself even as she pulled away from him and removed herself from the bed, staring in his direction. She was intensely relieved. “I am not going to shag you, William!” she declared venomously. “What?” he asked completely caught off guard. “Not even a little?” “A little? No, Spike. Not a little, not a lot. No shagging!” “Why? What happened to me being all possessive and grr and you being all ’fuck me, I’m yours‘?” “I moved on,” she lied, her tone sad. “Bollocks!” he spat. “Can’t smell another scent on you. Still got my marks on your neck.” “So?” she wondered out loud. “What difference does that make? Those things don’t mean I’m going to fall into bed with you, of the non drunk and passed out way. I decided after the last time, that it was the last time. The last time I’d be used. The last time you’d run back to Dru. The last time I’d have my heart broken.” Buffy wrenched the sheet off the bed and wrapped it around herself in the darkness. From the direction of the bed, a hand grabbed her arm. “This time you won’t get your heart broken, love,” he whispered. “After a hundred years of it Spike, it’s gonna take a lot more than you saying that to get me to believe you,” she commented, opening a portal and stepping through, taking the sheet with her. _________________________ Though it saddened her, Buffy stayed away from Liz’s house, giving the Slayer a wide berth. She avoided Spike too. She had been foolish to think that he wouldn’t try to get them back into their pattern of meet, shag, leave. She didn’t give up her position as guidance counsellor at Dawn’s school though. It fulfilled the vengeance and she got to see Dawn. At first it was passing smiles and waves in the hall. Then one day Dawn plopped down into the chair in front of her desk and sighed. “He misses you.” “Who? Huh?” came her articulate response. “Spike? The bleach blond who wears nothing but black? Ring a bell or two in that older than Dick Clark head of yours?” the teen jibed at her. “I do remember who he is Dawn,” Buffy said softly. “Well, go talk to him. He’s been moping since you left, whenever that was, and he’s been all drinking and grr. Liz is totally annoyed with him, he’s not helping with her patrolling.” “I thought she wanted him to leave her alone?” “She’s a girl of confused priorities. You would think that she’d want her ‘stalker, vampire who had a crush on her but doesn’t since her grandmother showed up, grandfather’ to follow her around and stake the baddies but...” Buffy raised a hand, halting Dawn’s babble. “Hold on, what?” “Oh, well there was this whole stalking Liz thing to make her see that he really did love her, it was lame, but in a way cute and romantic, in a cheesy TV drama type way, which now that I think about it is way ewww and cringe worthy...” “Dawn!” “Spike’s our great great great grandfather?” answered Dawn with a shrug. Buffy sighed, sinking into her chair. “And I promised I wouldn’t out him. Does Liz know?” Dawn shook her head and slouched in her seat. “She doesn’t pay any attention to me anyway,” she replied sullenly. “You can’t tell, not until he’s ready. He wasn’t ready to be a parent before, with Christopher, not that I told him anyway, until it was after the fact.” “Will you go see him?” asked Dawn again, hopefully. “I’m allowed to go to see him again, now that he’s told Liz that you’d ‘buggered off’,” imitated Dawn with a very bad accent. “I’ll go see him,” Buffy chuckled. “Tell me about you, though. How is Dawn?” _________________________ “Dawn is quite the advocate for your side, Spike,” Buffy said as she closed the crypt’s door behind her. “Bit’s always had a soft spot for me,” he observed from his sprawled out position in his comfy chair. “Is that why you’ve come back?” Buffy nodded. “One look into her blue eyes and I’m torn. You make things hard, William, you always have. I had it all planned out in my head you know. I’d find my family, and they’d understand. I’d dreamed that they’d want me and I get here and not only does Liz not want me, but you’re here. There’s a part of me that’s all swoony and ‘fuck me, I’m yours’ but there’s that other part of me that wants to rip off your balls and feed them to you in hot salsa.” Spike squeezed his legs together as he cringed, his hand lowering to cover his bits. “I can’t be around you, Spike. I can’t and still do my job and look out for them. Do you remember what Christopher said? That if we’d been together when we went to see him we’d be fighting all the time. It’s true,” Buffy admitted with a bitter laugh. “Christopher knew us better than ourselves.” “That he did, love,” Spike agreed, getting up out of the chair. “I know it doesn’t mean much, coming from me, but I am sorry. I’m sorry I let Dru rule over me. Turns out she didn’t love me for all eternity after all. It was all about her Daddy.” “I could have told you that a hundred and twenty years ago...” she sniffled. “I wouldn’t’a listened, though. Had to learn it myself, didn’t I?” Buffy smiled, knowing that what he said was true. “Sorry doesn’t make everything better though, Spike. It‘s just a word.” Spike grabbed her hand and held it gently in his a moment before responding. “Then let me make it up to you without words. You never liked my words anyway.” “Not true!” she protested. “Though the effulgent one was not your best work...” “Going to Demon girl’s wedding?” he questioned suddenly. Buffy met his eyes with curiosity. “Of course, it’s why I came to Sunnydale in the first place... Are you asking me to be your date?” “’Suppose I am.” Buffy grinned mischievously. “I don’t know if I should accept such an improper invitation.” Spike smirked back at her and stood up, giving her a small bow. “It would do me the greatest honour Miss Underwood, if you would accompany me to the wedding. Might I be so bold as to ask the pleasure of your hand for a dance at the reception?” Buffy barely contained her laughter. “I will only accept if you promise you will save me from bores the like of Mrs. Chambers!” “Promise, pet. I’ll even bring you punch.” _________________________ Erixel, Vengeance Demon, sat demurely between D’Hoffryn and Dawn on the opposite site of the table from Xander Harris’ relatives. She’d opted to stay in demon face, just so that there wouldn’t be questions from the groom’s family about the maid of honour’s lineage. Not that there wasn’t enough of that going on. Buffy had to laugh at the announcement that Anya’s people were circus folk. How dumb is that? But Anya was trying so hard. It took everything Buffy had in her to keep her mouth closed and from keeping all that vile vengeance wishes she was thinking to herself. It wasn’t good for her to say things out loud when the one demon who granted wishes to vengeance demons was sitting beside her. D’Hoffryn was acting as father of the bride. “I wonder where Spike is?” Dawn whispered. Buffy could tell that she’d formulated what she said in order to make sure that she didn’t use the ‘wish’ word. “I wish he was here too,” Buffy whispered back. “But he’s not part of the wedding party.” Dawn murmured in understanding, until she was elbowed in the ribs by Liz on the other side of her. Liz was certainly putting on a brave face in light of the fact that she was surrounded by demons and not supposed to slay any of them. The alcohol was flowing freely and boy did it flow. “Have you seen the dresses yet?” asked Dawn again, ignoring the look Liz was giving her. Buffy nodded, her freshly permed ringlets bouncing. “Much nicer than the burlap and Larvae she had picked out, let me tell you.” Buffy halted her analysis of the dresses as the food arrived, the serving staff of the restaurant placing the plates in front of demons and the Harris clan alike. “I didn’t know that demons ate human food...” observed the teen. “Oh, all the time, you never know what kind of thing will get a client to open up. I’ve had many stimulating conversations over dinner, or even just coffee. ‘Course in the Depression, food was the best way to get orphaned children to open up, so starved and lonely.” Dawn raised her fork to her mouth and mumbled something unintelligible as she shovelled more food into her mouth. “I bet you could totally help me with history homework... I’m supposed to start a project on a world conflict and its causes for my history class...Janice is my partner. I don’t know what to pick. I was thinking the Boxer Rebellion, cause Spike was going to help me, he was there and everything. Where you there?” Buffy nodded. “Of course I was there, I started it.” Dawn put her fork down, her eyes wide. “There were other factors, but it all started with a wish. You’d be surprised how many wars and rebellions are started by vengeance demons.” “Ok, Dawn we are moving spots,” came Liz’s voice interrupting their conversation. “Why?” Dawn whined. “I don’t want you to talk to her anymore!” Liz hissed. “I can’t talk to another bride’s maid? What the hell is wrong with you Liz!” shouted Dawn, as she threw down her napkin on her half eaten food and stormed out of the room. The whole table of guests and relations watched as the teen stormed out. “I wouldn’t want to talk to them either,” noted Mr. Harris, over the top of his glass of whatever it was alcoholic he was drinking. “I’ll go after her,” said the soft voice of Tara, one of Anya’s human friends, who Buffy suspected was a witch. At least Dawn had one person within Liz’s group that actually cared about her. One of the groom’s uncles stood up, his glass in hand. “A toast!” “That’s really not necessary Uncle Rory,” muttered the groom. “A toast to the bride and groom, may they get through tomorrow with minimal problems. I wish them...” The vengeance demons at the table looked up expectantly, while Liz, the groom, and their friend Willow gasped. “... happiness and many years of staying out of Uncle Sam’s interfering grip,” concluded the slightly inebriated uncle of the groom, a lopsided smile on his face as he raised his glass before downing the drink. “Wish granted,” said nearly every vengeance demon at the table. “See Xander, there is one of your relatives that I like,” added Anya from the head of the table. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #28 - The Wedding from Hell

Disclaimer: The Characters of BTVS and ATS are the property of Joss Whedon and various other people/entities. I am only using them for fun and entertainment only. This is the sad reality that hits me when I wake up from my naked Spike filled dreams. Author’s note: Some Dialogue taken from ‘Hell’s Bells’ Once again many hugs and thanks to the great, fantastic, fabulous, wonderful Bloodytearsoflife for the beta. Thanks to Steph, kim, vladt, Opal, akarinacj, wulfie and mary perk for the great reviews _________________________ Chapter 28: The Wedding from Hell Buffy and Spike walked hand in hand into the reception hall. Whether it was the rain outside, the mood of the guests, the silent cries for vengeance coming from the human guest, or the beyond green dress Buffy was wearing as a bride’s maid, she knew this day was not going to end well. The rehearsal dinner had been a disaster after Dawn’s emotional outburst, which Liz blamed on ’those wacky teenage hormones’, and the entire vengeance demon population of the restaurant had to sit on their hands and try to think of other things to do while Dawn’s calls for vengeance fell on their ears. Buffy had glared at them all, including D’Hoffryn. Dawn was a child, which meant the wish was hers. Of course the best moment of the evening was when Krevlin’s sister granted a wish to Jessica Harris for her husband to embarrass himself. Buffy had laughed out loud when Mr. Harris barfed in Liz’s purse. Now the wedding day, Buffy and Spike followed in behind D’Hoffryn, her green dress protected by the umbrella Spike was holding. She wasn’t fooled by his apparent attentions. He’d been all gentlemanly and polite. It was very much a William type act he was portraying. It was cute, but she didn’t trust it. She’d known him for too long. “Ah. Hymen's greetings,” D‘Hoffryn greeted Dawn, holding his gift out to the girl. Buffy smiled, demon face on, at the teen supportively from behind her boss. “Hy - what?” came the articulate response, Dawn staring with her mouth open in confusion. “Hymen, the God of Matrimony. His salutations upon you. May the love we celebrate today avoid an almost inevitable decline,” continued the Master of Arashamahar. Dawn shrugged. “Cool.” “I brought a gift. I suppose there's a table,” noted D’Hoffryn, drawing attention to the box which, in Buffy’s opinion was hideously wrapped. Buffy bit her tongue trying to keep her comments to herself. It wouldn’t do to tell her boss that his choice of wrapping colours sucked big time. “Dawn!” Buffy smiled, reaching out to give the teen a hug. “You look lovely!” Dawn blushed and looked down at the greener than green dress that was wearing. “You are just saying that because we are all doomed to wear the hideousness that are the bride’s maids’ dresses.” “Well there is that,” Buffy admitted. Spike appeared behind Buffy, now free from coats and umbrellas. “You brought Spike? As your date?” asked a now jubilant teen, practically bouncing. “That’s so sweet. Not that you need pity or anything. I’m glad you two are talking to each other again. I’m babbling, let me take that, for you,” segued Dawn, taking D’Hoffryn’s gift. “Thank you,” replied a glad D’Hoffryn as Dawn took the package. “Uh, careful, it's, uh...” “Fragile?” “Squirmy.” Just at that moment, whatever it was that D’Hoffryn had decided to give Anyanka and the Harris boy for a wedding gift, poked one of its tentacles out of the box, causing Dawn to squeak. Dawn held it at arms length and sped away eager to get rid of the box. D’Hoffryn turned towards the couple that stood behind him. “Do you really think it’s wise for you two to be together here?” he asked bluntly. Buffy stared back at her boss, her mouth wide. “Huh?” came her response. “Just why the bloody hell shouldn’t we be together here?” asked Spike, standing up straight and tall, glaring at the ruler of Arashamahar. D’Hoffryn ran his hand down his beard and sighed. “One of you in Sunnydale seems random...but two raises suspicion. According to the wish, he can’t do anything to one of them. But there are two now...one of them is in danger while you stay here,” he explained as if he was talking to children. For that is what Erixel was to him. His child, his creation and she was too good for this half breed vampire. Buffy gulped while her eyes sought out Dawn’s form at the gift table. “I just found them, D’Hoffryn!” she whispered, digging her fingers into the leather of Spike’s duster. D’Hoffryn shook his head sadly. “This is not the time to be explaining to me what I already know, my dear. You are my greatest accomplishment, since Anyanka lost her pendant, and I can’t bear to see you cry. So stop it! It’s a wedding, you don’t cry until you see Anyanka bind her life to that moronic man with the large upper arms.” D’Hoffryn sighed again. “She’s always had a thing for dark haired men with large upper arms didn’t she?” Buffy turned to Spike, her tears threatening to spill down her face. “I...I have to go...I thought I covered my tracks...I thought I’d...I have to go!” Buffy stepped away only to be caught by his strong arms, preventing her escape. “Not like this. Not without giving the Nibblet a way to find you. She’s already lost a lot of people. You can’t run out on her. Liz may not want you, but Dawn does. After the wedding. After the wedding you can tell her good bye, if that’s what you have to do,” Spike whispered against her ear as he held her close. “He’ll find them!” she hissed. “He’ll think you are here for the wedding, nothing more.” “William...” “And I still want my dance at the reception,” he ordered jovially, pushing her gently towards the seats, and like most things, she couldn‘t resist him. _________________________ Buffy sat down in her seat, the front row on the bride’s side, only to have her date excuse himself and leave her sitting there. It wasn’t as if he needed to go to the bathroom or anything, vampire after all. D’Hoffryn sat down beside her and took her hand. “I had thought you had gotten over him,” observed her boss sadly. “He’ll leave you again, just like all the other times...” Buffy nodded slowly. “I’m not going to give him the option this time. After the wedding...after I tell Dawn goodbye, I’ll leave. I can’t put her in danger.” “And what about the Slayer? She’s yours too...” he continued to say but stopped as Buffy shook her head. “She can take care of herself. She’s surpassed the age I was when the council tried to kill me... She’s made it clear she doesn’t want me here or ever wants to see me again.” D’Hoffryn nodded. “Any idea where you’ll head next?” he asked. “I told everyone that I’d gone to Australia...I’ll probably head there,” she sighed. “I’d like you to keep an ear out for Anyanka though,” started the grey demon. “I don’t feel right about this whole marriage she’s getting herself into. There may be a need for vengeance later. I’d like you do be there for her.” Buffy agreed as D’Hoffryn patted her hand. The conversation in the hall reached a new level of intensity as the assembled guests had all been seated and the scheduled time for the marriage ceremony had passed. Aside from herself, the wedding party was nowhere to be seen. Buffy excused herself from D’Hoffryn’s side and went in search of answers. _________________________ “Hello, Liz.” Buffy heard Spike’s voice in the lobby and saw a familiar shade of green. Buffy stopped her approach and ducked behind some flowers. It wasn’t nice to eavesdrop, but she was a demon and sometimes she allowed herself to do the impolite thing. “I heard you were here,” responded Liz, her tone harsh. “Also heard you brought a demon as your date. “More like she brought me. And she’s not just some demon. You know who she is...” “A liar, a demon and oh ya, she’s corrupting Dawn!” “She’s not corrupting the nibblet!” countered Spike. “She just wants what’s best for the both of you.” Spike looked from side to side watching to see if anyone was eavesdropping, besides Buffy. “She’s family, pet.” “Bull shit!” the Slayer exclaimed, looking very much like she wanted to throw a fit. “Then explain why you look so much like her?” “I don’t know! She’s a shape shifter or something.” Spike scoffed. “I don’t know what’s worse, you making puppy dog eyes at me all the time, stalking me, telling me that I belong in the dark, or taking her defence. She’s a demon Spike.” “So am I, Liz. Something you throw in my face on a daily basis and I’m sick and tired of hearing it!” he snarled, before taking a deep breath and starting again in a low voice. “I’m a demon, she’s a demon. I’ve known her a hell of a lot longer than you, Slayer. Just so you know, I’m more inclined to trust her. She‘s not been beating me for kicks. I came out here to ask you to let her see Dawn. ‘Course now I realise just how much of a waste of time that was. Enjoy the wedding.” Spike stepped away from Liz with purpose, catching Buffy’s eye as he walked towards her. Turning around the corner he caught her arm gently and led her back towards the seats. “Been spying on me, love?” he asked smugly, smirk in place. “Was wondering what was holding up the wedding,” she responded truthfully. “I didn’t intend to spy... But thank you for what you said, what you tried to do. Thanks for standing up for me. Not that it matters anyway. I can’t stay here, with them. Liz...She’s...“ Buffy sighed. “It’s going to be like Christopher all over again. With Dawn. Isn‘t it?” Spike had no answer for her except a grim smile. They reached their seats, sat and waited for the wedding to start. Buffy sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes as she felt the stares from the assorted demons lighting on the pair of them. It was all she could do to keep from relaxing into her human face. The noise was getting gradually louder. Buffy’s ears picked up the conversations around her. A demon couple a few rows back was talking about D’Hoffryn’s Vengeance Demon conference, how the Master of Arashmahar was recycling themes. Who wouldn’t after thousands of years? Krevlin was talking up his next party; he’d acquired some rare demon heads he was going to juggle. And then there was a group of vengeance demons at the back that were openly talking about Erixel and how low she’d sunk. Buffy perked up her head and caught Spike’s eye. He’d heard it too. “You pay them no mind, love,” he said encouragingly. Buffy nodded. Suddenly the music started and Liz walked by, trying to shush the quartet. She watched intently as Liz spoke with the minister and then walked back down the aisle. Vampire ears were better than Vengeance Demon’s. “Sounds like the whelp has run out,” whispered Spike, so low that only Buffy could hear. “I’m worried about Anyanka,” commented D’Hoffryn, as if he’d heard the whispered comment too. Buffy felt a tear trickle down her cheek. Anya didn’t deserve this. Liz came back down the aisle and stood in front of the microphone. “So who here’s from out of town?” Buffy rolled her eyes. _________________________ “What do you mean Xander's missing?!” Anya’s voice rang out through the hall. Buffy turned in her seat, and looked at her friend. It was heart breaking. Anya hadn’t gotten to the point of vengeance yet, but all around her Buffy could sense that the other vengeance demons were looking to get a piece of the action. The silence escalated into an all out brawl. Buffy leapt to her feet and looked into the crowd for Dawn. “Your crypt,“ Buffy said to Spike, disappearing in a puff of smoke only to reappear next to the frightened girl standing in the middle of the fighting. Buffy grabbed her hand and opened a portal, tugging Dawn through, just as a member of the Harris family flew at them. Buffy stepped into her Arashamahar lair with a sigh. “Where...where are we?” asked a slightly frightened Dawn. One minute she was about to be clobbered and then, poof! She was somewhere she’d never been before. “We’re in Arashamahar,” Buffy stated. “This is the place which all Vengeance Demons call home. This is my room actually.” Buffy watched as Dawn stepped tentatively about the room, her hands reaching out to touch things, pictures, clothes that were scattered about the room. “Everything is so...” “Old?” finished Buffy. “I was going to say delicate, but I’ll go with old too,” continued Dawn. The teenager reached out for a photograph in a brass frame next to the bed. “Is this your son?” she asked. Buffy took the picture from Dawn’s hand and lovingly touched the glass. She nodded. “My beautiful boy. So much like his father. Too proud for his own good. He had a good life, a good wife and a wonderful family. I was so sad when he died. I didn’t know that I could go on. Somehow I managed though.” “Like I did when my mom died,” agreed Dawn. “Liz isn’t going to let me see you anymore. Kidnapping me from the wedding isn’t going to help.” Buffy nodded. “I know. We should get back.” “To the wedding from hell? Nuh uh.” Buffy took Dawn’s hand and opened a portal again, this time connecting to Spike’s crypt. “This’ll make Liz even madder,” noted Dawn looking around the place where the portal opened. “Dawn, we need to talk,” sighed Buffy looking her great-great-great granddaughter in the eyes. “Conversations are never good when they start with that. Are you leaving? Please don’t leave. Don’t make Liz drive you away. I like you! You pay attention to me. You’re fun to be around. Please don’t go,” whined Dawn with her best puppy dog eyes. “I can’t stay,” Buffy said around the lump that was forming in her throat. “If I stay, the demon who wants to sacrifice my offspring? He’ll find you. D’Hoffryn’s already said as much that he’s on to where I am. I can’t stay here and lead him to you. I want you to know that I love you. It doesn’t matter that I’ve only known you for a few weeks. You are my family Dawn.” Buffy reached up and brushed away a tear that rolled down Dawn’s face. “I’ll always have an ear open for you. You need anything, a quick escape, a vengeance wish, the need to get away from your sister. Just call out my name, okay?” Dawn nodded and wrapped her arms around Buffy in a hug. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Anya?” asked Dawn, pulling away from the hug. “I won’t have to Dawnie. I can feel her cries for vengeance already. The wedding didn’t go through. If D’Hoffryn has any say about it, Anyanka will be back occupying her lair in Arashamahar.” “She’s going to be a demon again?” Buffy shrugged her shoulders, turning as Spike appeared from the basement level of the crypt. “Your sister will be missing you,” stated Buffy, opening another portal and grabbing Dawn’s hand. She reached out and took Spike’s hand as well leading them both through the portal and back into her lair. “You’ll visit though right?” asked Dawn. Buffy smiled sadly. “Of course I will! Family!” With another quick hug, Buffy opened a portal again and sent Dawn through, and back to the wedding. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #29 - Prove It

By Ariel Dawn Chapter 29: Prove It Disclaimer:Joss has them all, they are slaves to his will, prisoners to his whims. Author’s note: Some dialogue from ‘Entropy’. Love the wonderful and fabulous Bloodytearsoflife for the great betaing. _________________________ Buffy turned back to Spike, tears brimming at the corners of her eyes. In one fluid motion he swept her up into his arms, placing a kiss on the top of her head of blond ringlets. It was a good feeling, being in his arms, feeling loved, wanted. Buffy sniffled into his black shirt a moment before realising what she was doing. She pushed away from him, wiping away her tears. “No, I can’t do this William,” she stammered before disappearing in a puff of smoke. Spike stood in the middle of his crypt stunned. The sense of loss he felt was palpable. The truth was that he deserved this. He’d been terrible to her over the century, he knew it. Dru was always foremost in his mind. But she wasn’t now. He just had to find a way to make Buffy realise it. He fumbled with a cigarette for a moment, lighting up and letting the smoke work its way into his dead lungs, calming him down and allowing him to think. Dru had always called him back, or came for him when he was in danger of replacing her in his affections. The incident with Liz, when he’d tied them both up and threatened to feed the slayer to his sire, that had changed something, hadn’t it? Drusilla had turned him away and when she wanted him back he’d refused. That had to be worth something. On the edges of his perception he knew that Dru was still around keeping tabs on him. This time wouldn’t be different. He could almost imagine her smile at his discovery. She owned him whether he liked it or not. She’d made him. But he had to protest that statement. Cecily had made him, forced him out onto the streets to meet his Dark Princess. He almost wished that she’d followed out after him that night, instead of Reagan. Maybe things would have been different. Maybe he’d be worthy of her. It didn’t matter what she was, demon, Slayer, Watcher, girl, he wanted to possess her like Dru possessed him. Except that he would never be able to leave her side. _________________________ Anya was there to meet her when Buffy appeared in her Arashamahar lair, still wearing her wedding dress, but now with a new pendant glittering from her neck. “Oh, Anyanka!” whispered Buffy, reaching for her friend, her tears appearing once again. “He left me!” cried her friend, rushing into Buffy’s open arms. “He didn’t deserve you to begin with,” cooed Buffy, trying to reign in her own tears. Anyanka sniffled and pulled away, scrutinizing Buffy’s face. “You’re crying too? What did that stupid vampire do now?” asked the newly elevated former vengeance demon. Buffy smiled sadly as her friend’s eyes flashed in anger for her. “He didn’t do anything. He’s been nothing but sweet since I got here, Anya. I haven’t slept with him either. I can’t go back to Sunnydale for a while.” Anya nodded and wiped her tears from her cheeks. “The Immortal.” “The Immortal. Always ruining my life.” “Can we go do some vengeance? I need to dispense some evisceration of the male species, preferably Xander,” growled Anya. “Well, first you have to get out of the wedding dress Anya, it’ll put off the wishers.” “How do you know? You ever tried it?” Buffy shook her head. “You’ve gotten closer to the altar than I have.” _________________________ One day of rampaging vengeance on men, and Buffy could tell that Anya really wasn’t on the ball, vengeance wise. It would take a few weeks to get into the swing of things, sure. Buffy could accept that. She stared at her friend as they drank coffee, in Sunnydale of all places, discussing past wishes and wishers. The fact that Anyanka had wanted to meet in Sunnydale was perplexing. But it gave her the option of visiting Dawn. Sadly it seemed to be Buffy talking while Anya spaced out. “Okay, if I wanted to talk to hear myself well...talk I’d’ve stayed home,“ declared Buffy. “You aren’t listening!” “I'm sorry. I know. I'm just distracted,” Anya admitted. “What, this thing with Xander? Don't worry, you'll find a way...” “No, that's just it! I tried everything, every curse I knew, nothing worked,” continued Anya, interrupting her friend. “Wait, you tried to curse him yourself?” asked Buffy looking over her coffee mug. “Well, yeah. I'm the wronged party here, of course I...” Buffy internally laughed at how much Anya had forgotten in a couple years. “You can't exact justice against someone on behalf of yourself, silly! You know that doesn’t work. D’Hoffryn knows how many times I’ve tried it.” “I haven't been scorned by a man in, like, a thousand years. I never had to make a wish for myself. Isn't there some way around that?” “Well... You could try getting someone to make the wish for you I suppose,” offered Buffy. “And there’s always applying to D’Hoffryn for a wish.” “I guess. He’ll just say no. He said no,” muttered Anyanka. “But, getting someone else to wish for me...I can do that!” Buffy smiled at her friend. She wanted so much to grant Anyanka’s wish. But sadly, that was another rule that couldn’t be broken. Anyanka bounded away with new hope that soon Xander Harris would be excreted from the back of a plow horse. Buffy put down her empty cup of coffee and decided on another direction from one her friend had taken. She’d been gone 2 weeks and she had people to see. _________________________ Pulling Dawn out of class wasn’t so hard. She was still on the books as a guidance counsellor. Well, if you included that whole mind whammy thing she had on the staff. Dawn sat down in front of her with glee on her face. “You came back!” gushed the teen, Buffy having to shush her. “Just for a short visit. Anya asked me for coffee and here I am. She should really think about leaving Sunnydale. The hellmouth certainly can’t be good for anyone’s complexion. Except yours. So pretty.” Dawn blushed. “It’s the good genes. I mean come on, you and Spike? There’s no way that Liz or I could have gotten the ugly DNA.” “And you’re ok?” asked Buffy sincerely. “Liz paying attention to you?” Dawn nodded. “She’s getting better. We tried to go shopping the other day, just me and her time. And this morning she had the whole IHOP in our kitchen. But it’s weird, you know, it’s like it’s unnatural and forced still. Before it was forced that she wanted to be alive. Now it’s forced that she’s participating in, well, everything. The only thing she seems to really want to do is patrol.” Buffy smiled as Dawn talked about all her troubles with the “Scoobies” as she termed them, her petty theft and dealing with the loss of Liz and her mom. She was sad to see Dawn go back to class when their time was up. _________________________ That night Anya called to her and Buffy found herself standing in the shop Anya kept as a human. It was quite impressive really. Standing behind the counter glowering at her friend, Anya rattled off her complaints about her attempts to get others to wish Xander ill. “No, they're all, ‘oh, poor Xander, it took so much out of him’, all that running away he did. I just don't understand what's wrong with these people!” “Did you really think they were the ones to help you?” asked Buffy. “But...” “Do you want vengeance, Anyanka?” Buffy asked, interrupting her friend. “I want Xander good and cursed.” “Then you know what you have to do.” “Get a wish from someone who doesn't freaking love him.” “Exactly.” “Yeah, but my social circle is a little limited here. What am I supposed to do? Just stumble upon someone who doesn't give a fig's ass if Xander gets hurt?” The bell on the shop door rung as a person stepped through. Anyanka and Erixel both looked up, a smile passing over both their faces. Buffy had been afraid to disturb his sleep during the day and had yet to talk to him since she‘d been back. Ok, that wasn‘t entirely true. She‘d been nervous as hell, given the fact that she‘d left him standing in his crypt on the day of the wedding without a word about if he‘d ever see her again. “Hey. I need a thing...” he started first looking at Anya standing behind the counter. His gaze quickly passed to Buffy who was smiling back at him. “So... what's your pleasure?” asked Anya. “Fresh of out of pleasure. That's why I'm here. Just had a very unpleasant experience with the Slayer, again. There is no way I’m claiming any responsibility for her being the bitch she is,” he declared, prowling towards the counter. “Came for some burba weed.” “Ya, ok, hold on,” ordered Anya, pulling Buffy away from the counter. “Oh my god, he hates Xander. Maybe I could get him to wish...Dammit, if only he were a woman. Okay, got it! If I can somehow get someone to wish that Spike were a woman, then I go to him, well, he'd be a her by then, go to her and get her to....” “Ok, I so have to stop you there. First of all, you’ll never get a wish out of Spike. I’ve tried. And you’ve really got to get over this whole women only thing. Guys have as much need for vengeance as the girls do.” “Oh,” observed Anyanka. “You probably want to be alone with him anyway.” “Maybe?” whispered Buffy. She looked back at Spike picking through some trinkets on a nearby table before turning back to her friend. “Ok, ya, I do. Can you blame me?” Anya smiled sadly and patted her shoulder. “I would have thought you’d have learned by now, Rixy. But I understand now, if that’s any consolation.” With that Anya headed into the back room of the store leaving the pair alone. “Didn’t know you were here, love,” he started, catching her eye. “I’m here. All here with the being,” she babbled nervously. “Didn’t think you were coming back...” “Dawn...” “Right, the nibblet,” he said, nodding, as if he understood. “I was going to see you tonight too,” she hurried to add. “Next on my list of people to see. Not that there’s actually a list or anything.” Buffy paused. “I’m sorry for leaving so abruptly. Last time. I was all emotional and you were there. I... I didn’t want to give you the wrong idea.” “The wrong idea?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow. “What was wrong about it? You were all weepy. I was the gentleman and comforted you. It’s how I was raised, Cecily,” he said smirking. “It’s wrong because of how you suck me in. I don’t want another Venice, or another New York. I don’t want Sunnydale to be yet another place where you leave me to go back to Dru,” she admitted quietly, wrapping her arms around herself. “I’m not going back to Dru!” he protested, stepping towards her. “No?” she asked sceptically. “Prove it.” Spike nodded his head and stepped into her space. His eyes poured into hers. Suddenly she had hope, but she quickly dashed it away. She didn’t get hope. Hope was something she couldn’t ever have again. He placed his hands on her upper arms, rubbing them tenderly, as if he was getting up the courage to do or say whatever he was going to. His hands ran up her arms and past her shoulders, he tipped her head to the side, placing his lips on hers in a tender kiss. Buffy closed her eyes. She could feel herself give way to his desires, and was about to break off the kiss when he did instead. A kiss doesn’t prove anything, she thought to herself, fighting to open her eyes. Suddenly she felt a prick, followed by stabbing pain in her neck that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Spike was suckling at her neck. “Mine!” he growled, pulling away from her bleeding neck. Buffy opened her eyes in shock, joy, awe, and a multitude of other emotions. She stepped away from him, her hand flying to her neck, trying to comprehend. “William...” she whispered. Spike stared back at her like she had pushed him off a ledge. She continued to back up, little steps at a time. Her mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to come to terms with what he had done. It had meant something, a whole lot of something actually. Buffy took a step towards him, and let her now bloody fingers drop from her neck. Making up her mind to react instead of standing there stunned, Buffy stepped closer and pressed her hand to his cheek, not caring that she was leaving a bloody print on his skin. She pulled him towards her and leaned in. “Yours,” she whispered into his ear, placing a kiss on his neck before baring her teeth. “Mine!” Buffy said forcefully, biting down hard on his neck, over the marks Drusilla had made him with. “Yours,” he responded gently, his body shuddering. In an instant she felt the mating bond pull them together. Feelings of each filled the other. Buffy pulled back from her bite, blood on her lips, only to have Spike lean in and lick them clean. They kissed, tongues touching, caressing, for a few wonderful moments. “I love you William,” she said softly as they pulled away. Buffy rested her head on his chest. Spike sighed. He could feel what she was hiding now. Not that she had been hiding it in the first place. “But you don’t trust me,” he observed. “Then why?” “I’ve been waiting for you to claim me since you were first turned William. Did you honestly think I was going to not accept? I love you William. I may not trust you right now, but now we’ve got eternity to get back what we had before this whole mess started.” She looked up at him and smiled. “Back when you were just William, who loved me and wrote poems about his golden goddess and I was just Cecily who fidgeted at parties because I had too much energy. You’re mine now, and I’m never letting you go.” _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #30 - Wedding Night

By Ariel Dawn Chapter 30: Wedding Night Summary: Buffy and Spike just claimed each other...what would you do in that situation? Disclaimer: Joss owns the BTVS characters. I play with them. Author’s note: Thanks to the fabulous BTL for the great betaing…she’s even won an award for it! Runner up in the Best Beta category! YAY! So proud. *huggles* _________________________ Anya stepped out of the back room, tears streaming down her face. “That was so beautiful,” the newly elevated vengeance demon gushed, rushing towards her friend and enveloping her in a hug. Buffy laughed and disengaged Anya from her. “And you!” Anya pointed a finger at Spike. “I know dozens of women who would gladly wish vengeance on you! You hurt Rixy again and you can kiss your dick good bye!” “Anyanka, you’re scary!” giggled Buffy, pressing herself against her vampire again, who was holding his duster protectively over his bits. “Yes. Thank you,” Anya responded. “It’s good to be something instead of pathetic and miserable. But you probably want to go and give each other orgasms. I don’t blame you. Go, leave me in my lonely and depressing magic shop.” “Anya...” Buffy started, instantly feeling guilty. “Go!” Anya gave her a smile to let her know she was fine and shooed them away with her hands. Buffy pulled Spike away from Anya and towards the door. “I’ll talk to you soon, ok?” asked Buffy. Anya nodded. “I have to find someone else who doesn’t like Xander.” “Ever think of Angelus? He doesn’t like the whelp...” supplied Spike. Buffy gave him a look cutting him off. “What? I was trying to be helpful.” Buffy rolled her eyes and tugged on the door of the shop. “I don’t want you thinking about Angelus,” she whispered. “No?” Buffy shook her head and grinned, taking his hand and leading him from the shop. _________________________ They walked for ages, just holding hands, not saying a word between them. The streets of Sunnydale were quiet as the night wore on. She knew where they were going, slowly. His crypt, the place he’d been living. It wasn’t a home. She didn’t intend for him to have a home there anymore. They could go anywhere and do anything. There was no reason to tie him down to that hole in the ground. Together they would be a homing beacon for the Immortal. She wasn’t leaving him, so he had to come with her. That’s just the way it was going to have to be. They were halfway through the cemetery when Liz jumped out from behind a tomb, stake at the ready. “Oh look, a demon and a vampire, finally something to slay,” quipped the slayer, advancing on Buffy and completely ignoring Spike. “What did you do to him?” asked Liz. “I beg your pardon?” asked Buffy for clarification. “I saw the whole thing, in the magic box, with the biting and the kissage. There were cameras. What the hell did you do to my vampire?” Liz’s voice echoed through the cemetery. “Oh he’s not yours, Elizabeth,” responded Buffy hotly, irritation prickling at the edges of her mind. “That’s just what I was doing, making him mine.” “Since when the bloody hell do you care to whom I belong?” questioned Spike, his hand squeezing Buffy’s gently. “Since she’s made you all evil again. I swear to god, if you start killing people, I’ll kill you, Spike,” seethed Liz. “Stop, right there, stop. He isn’t killing anyone, that chip that’s wedged in his brain is still there. He’s not wished it out yet. I’ve not made him evil, Liz. Angelus did a damn good job of that,” explained Buffy. “That’s a stupid excuse!” spat Liz. “Ever since you came here, he hasn’t been patrolling...” “Oy! I’m right here! There’s no need to talk about me like I’m not!” protested the vampire. “And since when do you bleedin’ care what I do with my unlife? Maybe I got tired of bein’ the butt of all your jokes. Poor Spike’s not a real vampire, can’t kill, useless!” “You aren’t useless,” soothed Buffy, raising a hand to his cheek and looking into his eyes. Liz rolled her eyes. “Please! You only want him because he wants me!” “No,” whispered, Buffy, still looking into Spike’s blue depths, “I want him ‘cause I love him.” Buffy turned to look at her name sake with disgust. “I can’t imagine how they made you turn out so bigoted, Liz. We’re leaving.” Buffy opened a portal beneath her feet, pulling Spike along with her. The pair tumbled onto her bed, bouncing slightly. She sighed, knowing that the mood was ruined. She lay back, her head hitting the pillows as she tried to stem the flow of tears that threatened. “I’m sorry. For what she said,” she whispered, running her hand through her blonde curls. “Not your fault, product of the Council, of the bollocks those watchers have put into her head,” Spike supplied, letting his head rest next to hers. Buffy nodded sadly. “Can’t stay there...She’s so angry.” Gently, Spike reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers tenderly. She turned her head towards him and smiled sadly. Slowly he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. Soft lips caressed, and tongues begged entrance into each other’s mouths. Buffy moaned against his persistent mouth, as cool vampire hands feathered over her arms. Pulling her towards him, the pair rolled, forcing Buffy on top of Spike’s black clad figure. Mid kiss Buffy forced her eyes open and broke away. She raised herself up on to her hands and stared back at the vampire she had been making out with. “No,” she said simply, shaking her head before rolling off of him and down onto the mattress beside him. “No?” he asked confused. Buffy looked over at her mate and repeated herself. The look in his eyes was heartbreaking, but she had to be firm. “The sex. It’s not going to happen until I know why. Why you finally claimed me, why you aren’t going to run back to Dru, why you’re suddenly over Liz... I’m not going to let myself be hurt again.” Buffy swung her legs around to the edge of the bed and stood up, heading to her closet. “My heart can’t take it.” “Buffy...” he sighed, sitting up and reaching out a hand for her. Even with her back turned to him she could feel his emotions through the claim connection. The desire to be loved, not be made a fool of, embarrassment, rejection, love, guilt. It was the last one that threw her for a loop. “Since when do you feel guilty? You’re a demon, you aren’t supposed to feel guilt!” she exclaimed turning around to face him. His hand dropped to his lap as his face displayed the shock of her accusations. “Guess it’s been since I’ve been palling around with the do gooders, got this chip in my head to make me all safe for the kiddies. It’s not the guilt of the thousands of lives I’ve taken though,” he continued. “Been gnawing away at me, since Angelus came back to the fold. Dru went straight back into his arms, just as you said she would. I realised that I’d been doing the same to you. Took me a right long time to smarten up too. Liz sent the bugger to hell with his shiny soul all restored like, and still all Dru wanted was her Daddy. So ya, I feel a little guilty.” Buffy couldn’t help the little smile that graced her face. “Good!” she laughed. Her tone turned sombre though as she continued. “I know what I did to you was cruel, and I think I’ve more than made up with it, the way you’ve treated me over the century.” He nodded. “I think we’ve both had our share of suffering luv. After the soddin’ military put this chip in my brain...” “Liz has always been nasty to you, and still you fell for her,” she finished for him. “Never occurred to me that she could be one of ours. Not once!” he growled angrily. “Little bit relieved that she never accepted your advances,” Buffy stated, knowing what he was feeling. “I’d like to think, hindsight being 20/20 and all that rot, that I saw you in her...” Buffy chuckled. “Sure, you tell yourself that Spike, if it makes you feel better. That’s two out of three...” “I never stopped loving you, Cecily,” he admitted. “Dru just...” “What? Got in the way?” “She caught me at a time when I didn’t know how to go on. Then you soddin’ show up while I’m chained to the rafters and profess your undying love...What the bloody hell was I supposed to think? Dru’s done, gone, not going down that road again. She’s used me for the last time, just as I’m done using you. I don’t care if you ever want to touch me again or if you want to keep me on a bleedin’ leash for the rest of eternity, I’m yours. It’s your turn to get all possessive and growly, I’ll be ‘fuck me I’m yours’. It’s up to you, love. Just please love me.” His tone was close to pleading and look in his eyes told her how much it had taken for him to say that. “I never stopped, William.” Buffy stared back at her mate for a moment, then stepped towards him, placing a kiss on his lips, yanking him to a standing position. She pushed his duster off his frame and began untucking his shirt from his jeans, their lips only losing contact when she pulled the shirt off his body. Throwing the shirt aside, she ran her hands down his torso, her fingers tracing the outlines of his muscles, her hands travelling lower to unzip him from the tight confines of his jeans. Her lips slipped from his and descended his sculpted chest, her hands tugging the black denim down his legs. She couldn’t push his trousers all the way off, due to his boots; boots she could swear were the same ones he had been wearing the last time they did this. Buffy let her tongue trail down his torso past his navel and down his exposed thighs before turning upwards, licking the under side of his erect cock, twirling around the seeping head, eliciting a moan from the vampire. Buffy looked up at her lover and smiled. “I want you naked and in my bed,” she whispered, her breath passing over the head of his cock, making him shudder. She stood, grinning at his confused look, and turned towards her closet. “Don’t go anywhere...” She opened the walk in closet doors and stepped in, shutting the door behind her. She allowed herself a few calming breaths as she inspected her wardrobe for what she was going to change into. The very business like ‘school’ clothes she was wearing didn’t seem very seductive to her. Of course not that she needed to seduce Spike, he seemed ready and willing. Buffy slipped out of her clothes and into a nightie that she hadn’t worn or even thought about wearing since the turn of the century. It seemed appropriate. By the time she’d stepped back into her bedroom, Spike was lounging on her bed, still hard, and very naked. She could tell that he was trying very hard to keep the grin off of his face. “Well aren’t you all cocky,” she punned, walking towards the bed, her white night gown making her appear to be floating. Spike sat up, the grin more apparent, while his eyes looked her over. “Aren’t you all Victorian, all of a sudden...” he jibed back. “Always have been, so have you, William,” she whispered kneeling on the side of her bed. Spike reached out and took her in his arms, cradling her against his body. “So I’m naked, and in your bed, what are you going to do with me, Miss Underwood?” he asked, running his hands down her silk covered arms. Buffy stuck out her lip and pouted. “I thought I was Mrs. Fairchilde now?” she said in a small voice. Spike looked back at her his eyes wide. “I suppose you are at that, love,” he conceded. The vengeance demon smiled back. “Then I think, Mr. Fairchilde that it is time you made love to your wife.” With a slight groan, Spike pressed his lips against hers passionately, gently forcing her mouth open to admit his tongue, seeking out as much contact between them as possible. His hands left her waist, and traveled down to the hem of her nightgown, finding its lace edge before tugging it above her head, leaving her naked before him, save for her pendant. Gently she pushed him down against the soft mattress and settled herself on his thighs, his hard cock ready and waiting between them. He reached out, tweaking a nipple with each hand, then leaned forward and did the same thing with his tongue. Worshiping her breasts with fervour, Spike noticed a significant increase in the scent of arousal coming off of his vengeance demon mate. A hand traveled lower on her body, testing just how wet she was for him. His fingers slipped past her sodden folds, his thumb stroking her clit as he entered her, sliding into her moist channel. He abandoned her pert nipples, letting his tongue travel upwards in search of the mark he had made on her neck, the ones that bound him to her for all eternity. She was his. A hundred and twenty years late, but she was his. His fingers slipped out of her pussy and with both hands, he grasped her around the waist, lifting her up and setting her down slowly on his hard prick. Her moans of pleasure filled the room as she sank onto his cock, to the hilt, taking him all in. Buffy stared back at her lover with a lust ridden smile and leaned forward, taking his lips with her own again. The urge to move against one another overpowered her and soon they found themselves locked in a rhythmic and tender struggle. Limbs entwined, Spike thrust into Buffy’s core, hands caressing her skin. She countered him, thrust for thrust, keeping in time, as she felt the first sensations that an orgasm was approaching. What had started tender and gentle took on the appearance of a more heated encounter as Buffy rode Spike’s cock, milking his shaft, as it slipped in and out of her. Without warning, Spike slipped into his vampiric guise and bit down onto his marks, taking sips of the blood he thought the sweetest in the world. “Mine,” he whispered, his fangs still embedded in her neck. Buffy screamed from climax, shouting “Yours” into the darkness of her lair. She recovered in an instant, panting, and bringing her own demon face to the fore, finding purchase on her own marks on his neck with her blunt teeth. “Mine,” she countered, taking small sips from his neck. One final thrust and Spike spent his cold seed into her womb, her teeth in his neck, whispering that he was hers as well. _________________________ Morning in Arashmahar looked a lot like night, but it wasn’t the dawn of Arashamahar’s red dim sun that woke Buffy from her sleep. She reached for her lover as she had a dozen times before to find that he wasn’t in bed with her. She quieted her fears that he had left her, again, and opened her eyes, sitting up in bed. Spike was sitting on a chair facing the bed, like he had done before, a sad look on his face. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #31 - Calling

Disclaimer: All hail Joss. Author’s note: Some dialogue from ‘Villains’ Special thanks to the Fab BloodyTearsofLife for the great beta job and the helpful additions that she made to this chapter. Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing! *hugs* _________________________ Chapter 31: Calling Spike stared back at her with sad eyes. He had to tell her, to prepare her for the inevitable. He knew now that there was method to Drusilla calling him back time and time again. He could see her lip starting to tremble, tears starting to well up in the corner of her eyes. He stood up, clad in only his jeans, his hair still sleep tousled and knelt down on the floor beside her. He didn’t know how to say what needed to be said but every moment he waited, the more her lip trembled, the more tears fell on her cheeks. “Buffy...” he began, reaching out to grab her hand. “No!” she wailed, cutting him off, a torrent of tears falling from her green eyes. “You’re mine now! Not hers. We’re mates! She can’t have you!” Buffy cried, reaching out to touch his face. “Please don’t go. I need you! I love you! You promised!” “Love, I...” Spike started again. “You promised!” she whispered through her tears. Her ability to speak was cut off by the sobs she could no longer control. “Buffy, please love, you’re jumping to conclusions,” he said softly, trying to calm her. “Buffy...” His shout halted her tears for a moment and her eyes snapped up to lock with his. “Drusilla called me, she wants me by her side again. But I’m not going. Do you understand? I am not going,” he stated slowly, letting each word sink in. Buffy hiccupped then sniffled. “You’re not...you’re not going?” she asked confused. “You’re going to stay?” Spike nodded, a smile on his face. “I promised to stay with you, Buffy. I love you.” Buffy’s smile lit up the room radiantly and she threw herself into his arms. Spike stood up, an armful of vengeance demon around his neck. “I’m sorry I made you cry, love,” he whispered into her hair. “You better be, Mr. Fairchilde,” she responded, each word punctuated by a kiss. _________________________ Buffy stepped into the halls of Dawn’s school eager to get Dawn alone. She spied her granddaughter talking with some friends animatedly. Buffy smiled, glad that Dawn had friends of her own. Catching Dawn’s eye, Buffy motioned for Dawn to come talk to her out of the hearing range of her friends. Excusing herself, Dawn moved towards the vengeance demon with a smile. “Hey!” greeted the teen. “What’s up?” “You mean you don’t believe that I’ve decided to try out being a student?” “You’re way old, why would you want to do that anyways?” “Hey!” protested Buffy. “I was elevated at Seventeen I’ll have you know. I do still look Seventeen don’t I?” Dawn rolled her eyes. “Yes, you are teenageish. So...what’s up?” “Can you come by the crypt after school, Spike needs to talk to you,” explained Buffy. A worried look passed over Dawn’s face. “Ok, I can do that.” Buffy smiled. “Thanks.” _________________________ Buffy appeared back in Spike’s crypt only to find her mate packing stuff up into a duffle bag. “You can come back whenever you want. You don’t have to pack it all up,” she said, stepping towards him. “Just some clothes and a few trinkets, love,” he responded with a smile. “I spoke with Dawn. She’s going to stop by after school.” Spike nodded. “You don’t suppose she’ll feel as if I’ve abandoned her?” Buffy smiled tenderly. “No, not when she can get us to appear wherever she is in an instant. Besides you aren’t giving up the crypt, you’ll be back. It can be a summer home...” she tried. Spike looked at her with a questioning look. “Between the two of us, pet, we’ve got homes coming out of our arses.” Buffy had to laugh at that. “Kent, London, New York, and this gem here in Sunnydale...” “Don’t suspect that we’ll be going to London anytime soon...” “I don’t know, Spike. It’s still... painful.” He nodded. _________________________ Dawn stepped into Spike’s crypt closing the door behind her. Her backpack brushed against the stone walls of the crypt with a fingernails on a chalkboard type sound. She cringed. “Nibblet,” greeted Spike, sitting in his comfy chair, the TV portraying Oprah and the latest book she added to her book club. “Erixel, she said you wanted to talk to me?” asked Dawn, putting her backpack down. Spike stood up from the chair and stepped towards her. “Something’s happened, Dawn. I’m going away, with Erixel...” “You two finally shacking up?” kidded Dawn. “Ya, I suppose we are,” he admitted. Dawn broke out into giggles and hugged her favourite vampire. “Yay!” she gushed. “I’m so happy for you! It’s about time!” “Guess you aren’t mad then?” he asked over top of her head. “No! It’s not everyday that your great great great grandparents get mated! You know you so have to have a regular wedding, and I could be the maid of honour! Promise me no green puke worthy dresses? Oh! And none of those squishy things with tentacles for gifts…” “Bloody hell, Nib! What are you yammering on about?” “And how did you know that we’re mated?” asked Buffy, her head appearing through the trap door from the lower level. “Anya told me!” Dawn replied with a ‘duh’ expression. “I work there, to pay off the ‘mad thieving.’ She can’t keep a secret to save her life... Anya can be a bride’s maid too! So where are you going to live? Are you going to be in Arashamahar? Or are you going to New York? I’d love to live in New York...Please say I can come visit?” “Of course you can visit,” interrupted Buffy. “I think you’re taking this rather well...” “I’ll say,” interjected Spike, eyeballing Dawn as if she’d grown another head. “You’ll still come when I call?” asked Dawn, becoming serious, directing her question to Buffy. “And you’ll bring Spike?” Buffy nodded. “Anything you need. Hugs, vengeance, a quick escape, anything.” “Are you going to tell Liz?” asked Dawn. “That you’re leaving?” she asked, directing her question to Spike. “Not intending to, Bit,” answered the vampire truthfully. “Good,” grinned the teenager evilly. _________________________ Buffy settled against the cold body of her mate, and stared out into the dark New York cityscape. They’d grown closer as the days went by, each time he felt Drusilla call him to her side, he told her about it and continued to stay with her when the morning came. She had a new piece of jewellery, a diamond on her left hand. The silk slip nightgown she was wearing was soft against her skin, and Spike’s hand sliding up and down her leg felt really good. “Well I suppose I should get up and get some nosh,” he stated. Buffy laughed. They had started to keep vampire hours only a day or two into their new life together. Spending the days in bed with her husband wasn’t a bad way to pass the time. Unfortunately the moment was ruined by a sharp voice, laced with panic filling Buffy’s head. “Dawn!” cried the vengeance demon, sitting up, before teleporting away, leaving her lover shocked in bed. _________________________ Buffy materialized beside Dawn, who was looking horrified at the body of her friend on the bedroom floor. “Dawn?” whispered Buffy. The teenager collapsed, sobbing into her arms. Tenderly, Buffy picked up the teen and carried her into her bedroom, the two of them sitting on the bed, as Buffy rocked her granddaughter. Buffy just let her cry, knowing what was going to come next. “I wish Tara was alive,” whispered Dawn, sniffling. “Oh Dawn,” sighed Buffy sadly. “I can’t do that. I wish I could. Oh D’Hoffryn, I wish I could.” “Why? Why can’t you bring her back?” Dawn sat up and glared at Buffy daring her to explain. “Because you aren’t the wronged party. Tara’s death, was against Tara. Not you. It’s one of the rules that I have to abide by. I’m so sorry Dawn.” “I don’t understand,” started Dawn. “Why her? She never hurt anyone!” “Life isn’t fair. Death certainly isn’t either. No one can say why the innocent suffer.” Downstairs the front door opened, and Buffy could hear the sounds of footsteps. “Dawn?” came Liz’s voice, just as she rounded the corner to Dawn’s room. “You!” Buffy looked up from Dawn’s grief stricken face to Liz’s. “Yes, me.” “I...I called her,” interjected Dawn, standing up from the bed. “I found...I found... Tara. I didn’t want to be alone.” Liz nodded. Xander took that moment to walk in. “Holy nipples!” exclaimed the man with the large upper arms. It was then that Buffy remember what she was wearing. Well it could have been worse, she thought, crossing her arms to provide what little bit of protection she could from his bulging eyeballs. I could be naked. “Xander!” chastised Liz. “I was in bed, when Dawn called me...” Buffy offered in way of explanation. “Don’t care,” interrupted Liz. “Look, thanks for being there for Dawn, but you need to go. We need to find Willow.” “Yeah, she's off the wagon big-time. Warren's a dead man if she finds him,” added Xander. “Good,” observed Dawn bitterly. “Dawn, don't say that,” chided Liz, gently. “Why not? I'd do it myself if I could,” continued the teen. “Because you don't really feel that way,” countered Liz. Buffy looked between the two sisters and suddenly felt the need to be elsewhere. She didn’t want to be involved in this if she could help it. Well, unless there was a wish involved. “Yes I do. And you should too. He killed Tara, and he nearly killed you. He needs to pay,” continued Dawn. “Hey, he nearly killed you!” said Dawn happily. “Yes, joy!” noted Liz. “No need to be happy about it.” “But, Erixel can grant you a vengeance wish!” gushed Dawn. “No,” stated Liz. “Human world has its own rules for dealing with people like him.” “Yeah, we all know how well those rules work,” remarked Xander. “Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't. We can't control the universe. If we were supposed to ... then the magic wouldn't change Willow the way it does. And ... we'd be able to bring Tara back,” explained Liz. “And Mom,” added Dawn. “There are limits to what we can do. There should be. Willow doesn't want to believe that. And now she's messing with forces that want to hurt her. All of us,” continued Liz. “I just ... I've had blood on my hands all day. Blood from people I love,” noted Xander. “I know. And now it has to stop. Warren's going to get what he deserves. I promise. But I will not let Willow destroy herself.” “Okay, where do we go? She could be anywhere,” said Xander. Liz sighed. “I don't know, um ... Maybe the Magic Box for some kind of locating spell. I could go myself.” “No no. I'm cool. I'll go,” noted Xander. “Dawn can't stay here by herself,” said Liz. Buffy agreed with that. “Let me go with you. I want to,” pleaded the teenager. “No, honey, it's too dangerous,” countered Liz. “But ... it's Willow. She needs us.” “She does. And you'll help her. Lots. Okay, but first we have to get her home in one piece,” soothed Liz. “But...” “Dawn. I'm serious. You've been through enough for more than one ... ever. You should be someplace where you feel safe.” “Fine,” grumbled Dawn. “I want to go to with Erixel.” The was a pause. Liz sighed again. “All right.” “What?! Not all right. Are you kidding?” protested Xander. “Xander!” spat Liz, silencing him. The Slayer turned to Buffy with a serious expression. “You’ll take care of her?” Buffy nodded. “I’ll call for you when it’s safe to bring her back.” Buffy reached out and took Dawn’s hand, opened a portal and slipped through it, leaving the Slayer and the Carpenter together with a witch to find. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #32 - A Wish

Disclaimer: Joss owns the BTVS characters. Not me. Sad but true. Author’s note: Thanks to the wonderful Bloodytearsoflife for the fab betaing. _________________________ Chapter 32: A Wish Dawn and Buffy stepped into the New York apartment to see Spike pacing back and forth across the carpet, clad in his jeans. “About bloody time you got back!” he growled. One look at his Nibblet’s face though changed his tone. “What happened?” “Tara...” sniffled Dawn. Spike stepped towards Dawn and wrapped her up in his arms. Buffy looked at her family with sad eyes and decided that Dawn, now safely in Spike’s arms, would be ok if she took time to get dressed. By the time she returned from the bathroom clad in more presentable clothes, Dawn was still sitting on Spike’s lap, but her sobs had quieted down to sniffles. “What’s going to happen now?” the teen asked. Spike planted a kiss on the top of Dawn’s head and sighed. “Your sis’ll fix everything. It’s what she does, Slayer and all that,” soothed Spike. Dawn nodded. “Do you have hot chocolate?” _________________________ The next morning Buffy decided to try distracting Dawn with shopping. Nothing better than retail therapy to avoid thinking about the death of a friend, and the fact that very soon the world could be ending. “So, does D’Hoffryn pay you in like money? Or is there some kind of demon currency? Or is it kinda like a barter system?” asked Dawn, swinging her bag of purchased goodies. “And how do you have money? I mean, so happy about the top and the fun shorts, but where does your money come from?” Buffy smiled. “D’Hoffryn doesn’t pay me, really. It’s more like he provides for my every need in Arashamahar. Food, my lair, the ability to teleport, good stuff like that. Anything I want for myself outside of Arashamahar has to come from either my own money, or what I am gifted from wishers. My apartment, given to me by the girl who owned it, she was dying, I granted her wish and poof, apartment.” “What did she wish for?” “Oh I can’t tell you that. It’s vengeance demon/wisher confidentiality.” “Sure it is,” said Dawn, rolling her eyes. “So you had money when you were human?” Buffy nodded. “I was quite the little heiress actually. Of course when Noël died, her fortune reverted to me. It’s the way Spike set up her will, she had no children,” she continued sadly. “And Spike’s loaded too.” “And Liz works at the Double Meat Palace...Ironic...”noted Dawn. “So can I assume my college education is paid for?” she said with a smile. “Little gold digger aren’t you?” “What can I say?” giggled Dawn. “I have aristocratic blood.” “Funny girl.” “It’s a gift.” ________________________________ They were sitting down to dinner at a fancy restaurant at a private table when Buffy suddenly heard Liz’s voice in her head and sighed. “Your sister wants you back,” Buffy commented, taking another bite of her chicken. “Well she can just wait until I’m done eating!” declared Dawn. Buffy giggled softly and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Unfortunately, if I don’t show up with you before too long she’s libel to...” Buffy was cut off by Anyanka appearing in their midst. “Anya!” protested Dawn. “You can’t go teleporting all over. Someone will see you!” she chided in a harsh whisper. “Oh fiddle faddle,” observed the demon waving her hand dismissively. “Once again, an apocalypse has been averted and the world is safe. Liz wants you back in Sunnydale pronto.” “I’m eating dinner, Anya,” said Dawn, shovelling another bite of food into her mouth. “Liz can wait until I’m done.” “Hey! This wasn’t my idea you know. When Rixy didn’t appear right away Liz was all ‘fetch demon girl fetch.’ Like I’m suddenly Spike’s replacement. It was either come get you or listen to her whine and bitch until you brought her back. I’m starved. What are we having for dinner anyway?” asked Anya eagerly as Spike looked at her with sympathy. “Waiter?” piped up Spike. “Can we get another chair and a menu?” ________________________________ Buffy settled into bed as the sun started to rise. The automatic blinds came down covering the windows and leaving the room a muted blue. Dawn had been returned home with hugs and promises to visit. Spike yawned pleasantly as he lifted the covers to their bed and climbed in beside his mate. He had a good life. Blood in the fridge, a whole city to call his own and the love of the woman he adored. But still there was something that made it less than perfect. Drusilla. She was out there, somewhere and seething mad that he’d chosen Buffy over her this time. He didn’t want to tell Buffy just how bad this confrontation between the three of them was going to be, but with each hour that passed he knew she was getting closer. Spike wrapped his arms around his mate and nuzzled into the marks on her neck. “Mine,” he whispered before biting into her flesh, two drops of blood escaping his mouth and trailing down her skin. “Yours,” she countered, letting her body give in to the waves of pleasure that the bite was causing in her. “Oh, Spike!” she moaned as she orgasmed. Spike tenderly licked his marks closed tenderly before rolling her onto her back and spreading her legs. Her gaze held his in a lustful stare, only closing her eyes for a second as he entered her, his girth filling her completely. With a decidedly slow pace, he began pumping in and out of her tight wet channel. The look of concentration on his face, his eyes looking past her own into what remained of her soul slipped past all barriers. In an instant he knew that she loved him, trusted him, would never leave him. From the opposite end of their connection, Buffy knew that he was worried. His thrusts became faster and harder, Spike leaned down to capture her lips with his own, only to have them refused for his neck. “Mine,” she gasped, burying her blunt teeth into his neck, drawing blood. “Yours!” he roared, his climax overtaking him. Buffy unlatched her teeth from his neck and flipped them so he was on the bottom, his softening cock still intimately inside her body. She could feel his cum sliding out of her, but she didn’t care. “We are going to talk about what’s worrying you,” she stated bluntly, squeezing her inner muscles. His cock jumped inside of her and she knew she had his attention. “I don’t want to talk about it, love.” “Too bad,” she replied, refusing to move against his not so subtle movements. “And don’t you try to get me all ’fuck me I’m yours.’ I’ve had a lot more abstinence in my life than you have. We are going to talk about this or you are going to be teased very mercilessly.” She stared him down. “Not an unpleasant way to fall asleep,” he said slyly, closing his eyes. “Oh no you don’t!” she said poking him in the ribs. “Please? Why are you so worried? Why can’t you tell me?” Fluidly, using that vampire talent for moving without anticipation, Spike rolled them, Buffy once more beneath him. He touched her face tenderly. His cock, hard and still nestled in her moist heat, started to move within her slowly as he spoke. “Dru’s on her way. Can feel her getting closer. She wants to make trouble for us,” he admitted, burying his face in her hair. Buffy nodded and wrapped her legs around her mate’s waist bringing him deeper with in her. “Bring it on.” ________________________________ Buffy preened in front of a mirror in the hotel lobby she was standing in, waiting for her ‘client’ to appear. Spike was off doing vampire things, probably kitten poker or something. Just as long as he didn’t bring the kittens back to the apartment she was fine with it. She just didn’t want to get attached to next week’s ante. She took a glance at the elevators again, watching out for the girl she was trailing only to glimpse Spike walking towards her. With a smile she stepped into his arms. “Visiting me at work? Aren’t you all possessive and cute!” “Not a social call, luv,” he explained. “I wanted to tell you, she’s here.” “Here? Here, like in this hotel here? Or here in town here and likely to stop by for coffee?” Buffy asked as she looked around the lobby. Spike turned the both of them around to face the entrance, as Drusilla and a pack of about ten minions followed her graceful steps into the hotel lobby. “Thought I could get here before she found you, sorry luv.” “Nothing to apologise for, Spike,” she started, giving him a quick kiss. “I’ve been meaning to have some words with her since China.” “Luv?” “Oh this is going to be a bitch fight,” noted Buffy with an evil glint in her eyes. “You think I’m going to pass up an opportunity to beat her ass?” “She’s more dangerous than she looks...” “Thrall doesn’t work on me, Spike. And there are more ways to kill her than she can kill me.” “I don’t want either of you dead,” he said softly, squeezing her tightly. “I know,” she responded. “I don’t know if it’s going to work out that way though.” Buffy stepped away from him and towards Drusilla. “Well isn’t this a nice surprise,” started Buffy pleasantly. “I had no idea that you’d travel all this way to wish us joy on our happy union.” Drusilla hissed at Buffy. “Nasty girl. Broke my William’s heart. You need to pay for what you’ve done. Never yours. My William. My childe. Miss Edith is very cross with you and will eat your eyeballs.” “Ewww,” responded Buffy crinkling up her nose. “And William is mine. Started out that way, I think your borrowing period is long over.” Drusilla cocked her head to the side as if trying to figure out Erixel. “Made him I did! Killed him, you did. Bad Slayer! Take away the little boy from his mummy.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “Just spit it out already. The mad thing really isn’t holding my attention.” “Very well,” Dru grinned. “I challenge your claim. I am his sire, I have that right.” “You do,” Buffy agreed. “But I’m not a vampire. I don’t have to do the whole ritual thing. Vengeance Demon here.” The vampires behind Dru started to whisper amongst themselves. “Oh? She didn’t tell you just whom she decided to fight?” Buffy addressed the minions, raising her voice an octave or two. “Erixel, ring any bells?” “Oh crap, we’re all screwed!” yelled one of the minions at the back. “That you are,” responded Spike, who had moved to the back of the group of minions and started staking them one by one. Chaos erupted all around them, the hotel lobby sent into confusion. Drusilla launched herself at Buffy, claws and fangs bared. Buffy repulsed the vampiress away from her, sending Dru to the floor. “You see, Drusilla. I’m much more powerful than the average vampire. I don’t care that you’re a master vamp.” Drusilla flew at her again and was once again she was repulsed. “Tsk, tsk.” Buffy glared at her opponent with little feeling. “I have some choice wishes saved up for you Drusilla. D’Hoffryn even said I could have one of them granted the next time I saw you,” explained Buffy with a sinister tone. Spike staked the last minion and approached the two women. “Just go back to Brazil Dru,” he started sadly. Drusilla turned to look at her childe. “Mummy needs you to take care of her,” she moaned pitifully. “Get yourself a new lap dog Dru,” continued Spike. “This one’s done.” “Never!” spat Dru lunging towards him and grabbing the stake he held in his hand, pointing it at his heart. “No!” screamed Buffy, realising Dru was using the only weapon she had against her. “Please.” Drusilla cackled madly. “He’s mine!” declared Drusilla. “Always was. Good boy. Good dog,” she whispered as her free hand glossed Spike’s face. “Please let him go,” pleaded Buffy, tears starting to show in her eyes. In her mind’s eye she couldn’t help but think of all the horrible scenarios her life held for her if Spike wasn’t in the world with her, in some fashion. Even if he left her again, it would be more bearable to know that he was undead still. “Dru?” asked Spike, feeling Buffy’s sadness through their bond. The expression in Buffy’s face was heartbreaking. He wasn’t one to form plans that worked out, but he needed one now, or Buffy would be forced to either see him dusted or she’d give him up, just to keep him undead. “My Spike wants to come home with mummy?” asked Dru, not moving the stake from above his heart. “You’ve been a naughty boy and must be punished...” “That I have pet,” he conceded. “Before I go back to you though, I need to say something...” Dru nodded attentively, but still refused to move the stake. “Dru, pet, you made me what I am. I followed you wherever you wanted me, used me, abused me and I enjoyed it. All these years together, and apart I’ve often wondered what you’d be like with a soul and human again, with all your memories of what you’d done. In fact, I wish it.” Buffy perked up with the word ‘wish’ and shifted into her demon face. “Wish granted.” ________________________________ tbc...

Chapter #33 - To Regret or Not?

Disclaimer: Joss is god, all hail his wonderfulness. Author’s note: *huggles* to BTL for the great betaing. _________________________ Chapter 33: To Regret or Not? “Oh D’Hoffryn!” exclaimed Buffy when she realised what she had just done. Drusilla was human again. Spike had made a wish. She didn’t know which was more baffling. The former vampire was huddled on the ground, weeping at Spike’s feet. “You’re not my responsibility anymore Dru,” he said backing away from her. “I take it back!” Dru screamed as she cradled her head. “I’m sorry! So sorry!” “Maybe Angelus will have something to do with you now,” grimaced Spike taking another step away from her. He looked up at his mate, no smile, no light in his eyes. “Take her to Angelus, Erixel. She’s his problem now.” Buffy nodded, stepping forward and taking Dru’s hand as she cried, forcing her to stand up. “See you at home?” Buffy asked. His use of her vengeance demon name had chilled her to the bone. She tried smiling back at him, hoping that this wish hadn’t broken the goods thing that had finally achieved together. “Eventually,” he answered as he left the hotel. _________________________ Buffy tugged the crying Drusilla through a portal and into the lobby of Angelus’ hotel in LA. “Who the hell are you?” asked a tall African American man. “And is that Drusilla?” “Where’s Angelus?” Buffy asked. “Don’t know.” “Right, well I’ll just go find him. You don’t mind looking after the weeping nun do you? She’s human, she won’t hurt you, if you are wondering.” Buffy pushed Dru into his arms and disappeared in a puff of smoke, ending up at the bottom of some body of water. Buffy opened her mouth to curse her luck, instead filling it with water. She rolled her eyes before taking the time to see why Angelus was stuck at the bottom of whatever lake or sea they were right now. It was amusing to see Angelus stuck in a watery grave, his eyes darting back and forth as he tried to get out. She would have laughed, except lacked the oxygen to make the sound. With a slump of her shoulders Buffy shook her head sadly and teleported into the crate with the vampire that tried to kill her for so many years. She materialised on top of him, no room to spare, then opened a portal causing Angelus, herself and a torrent of water to come splashing down on her bedroom floor. Buffy rolled off of his body and sat up. The two demons started coughing loudly to expel the water from their lungs. “Just what the hell were you doing down there?” coughed Buffy. “Take too long to explain, I need to be somewhere,” explained Angelus. “No, you need to be at your hotel. Drusilla’s human and needs someone to take care of her,” stated Buffy. “What? When? How?” stammered the former scourge of Europe. “Um, well it wasn’t a genie who granted that wish. How do you think Angelus?” asked Buffy standing over the prostrate vampire with her hands on her hips. “Vengeance wish,” he muttered. “Right. I don’t care if you have a hot date or some critical brooding to do, but you are going back to your hotel and take care of her. No turning her back into a vampire. ‘Cause that would suck.” Angelus nodded even as Buffy grabbed his hand and pushed him through another portal. Angelus gone from her lair, she looked at the mess the water had created in her room and of her clothes. “Great, just great,” she muttered to herself before heading to her closet for new clothes. _________________________ Buffy arrived home to her New York apartment to find that Spike hadn’t come home yet. She hadn’t really expected him to. The night still had hours to go, and no doubt he was drinking in some bar to dull the pain of what he had done. The first wish he’d actually wished out loud and in front of her on purpose was about Drusilla. Not for himself, not for her, but Drusilla. She didn’t know how to feel about it, but she hoped that this wish didn’t come back to haunt her. As a human, Drusilla was still out there and free to do what she wanted in life. Buffy just hoped that the soul and what she had done to Spike would keep her far far away from Erixel’s mate. When Spike still hadn’t come home by the second night, Buffy got worried. She could tell that he was in pain, emotionally, from their bond and that he was liberally applying his favourite cure all...alcohol. Finally as the dawn approached on the third night, Buffy couldn’t stand it anymore. She wanted him with her and from what she could feel he wasn’t progressing in his grief. She leapt off their bed and found herself her patent leather doc martins, her plaid skirt and her Sex Pistols concert tee in her closet. It was time to remind Spike just who was in charge here. _________________________ Buffy appeared in a puff of smoke into the bar Spike frequented of late. It was a demon bar, not the sort that cared if there was the occasional brawl; there were no spells or enchantments on this place making the patrons unable to cause mayhem. Most of the patrons didn’t bat an eye at her appearance, but she heard the whispering as she stepped further in to the bar. She had quite the reputation. There was even a few that left the bar in quite the rush as she passed them. She didn’t care. Her gaze was focused on the bleach blond vampire at the bar, who was staring into his whiskey like it held the meaning of life. She slid onto the stool beside him, and motioned for the bartender. She placed a few bills on the bar. “He gets one more drink,” she started motioning to the vampire beside her. “And I’d like an Amaretto Sour please, with a cherry,” she said in a perky voice. “What are you doing here, Cecily?” said Spike, not making eye contact with her. The bartender put her drink in front of her and smiled. Immediately Buffy started playing with the cherry. “I’m here because you didn’t come home,” she began. “I was worried about you. She’s not dead. I’m not dead. Everything is fine and dandy.” “It’s not though.” “Please! William! I met the ‘Brooding Wonder’ two days ago, I don’t need you to give him a run for his money. Please, just tell me what is wrong.” “I could have killed her,” Spike admitted quietly. “But you didn’t. She’s all humany, beating heart, almost new soul and everything.” “It feels like I did. I can’t feel her. She’s been there, you know, in my brain, since she turned me, whispering away that I’m hers, belong to her, made by her. And she’s gone now. Don’t feel a bloody thing. It’s like I cut off a part of me and tossed it out the window. My sire’s gone, Cecily. I’m the last one.” “No, you aren’t the last one, William. You might be the last Aurelian vampire, but you’ve still got Dawn and Liz and Hank, wherever he is. And... you’ve got me,” Buffy whispered, feeling slightly insecure at the moment. “Don’t make it feel different though.” “It doesn’t make it feel different?” asked Buffy her voice sounding angry. She had to remember that he was grieving. “That’s not what I meant,” he added. His gaze on his empty glass of whiskey held only a moment longer. “Explain it then,” continued Buffy. Spike looked up as he felt his mate‘s emotions through their connection. He wasn‘t explaining it right. He reached out and brushed her cheek. “It‘s just...she was my sire, yeah? And now she‘s gone. There‘s a hole where she use to be and no one can fill it up again. You aren’t my sire, that’s how it’s different.” “But...I want to fill the hole,“ she whispered, her anger gone. “I just want you to love me like I’ve loved you all these years. I thought it meant something when you claimed me. I thought I meant something to you.” “You do,” he said turning towards her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears capturing her own in his gaze. “I love you,” he said tenderly. “I love you. But being connected with Dru meant that I was part of something bigger, something permanent. Like I had a family of my own. We two are just... two. Christopher and Noël are gone. Even before the fact of Liz and Dawn happened. I’ve lost that now. Don’t know if I’ll ever get that feeling back.” “You will!“ she cried happily. “I know you will. We will! And you never know...you could make yourself a child if you wanted someday... with or without the e on the end.” Spike turned to look at his mate with wide eyes. “We didn’t...without the...you aren’t...again?” “D’Hoffryn no!” exclaimed Buffy. “Do you really think I’d put myself and you though another ordeal like that? Not until the Immortal is dead and buried and I’ve lit his grave on fire.” “And some demons wonder how a nice little girl like you got to be a vengeance demon,” he noted with a smirk. “Ya it’s completely baffling. Are you ready to come home yet? I got all prettied up for you and I wanna play,” she purred. No response to that sentence came, but Spike scooped her up off the bar stool and carried her fireman style out the entrance. She giggled happily as they travelled. Buffy didn’t know where they were or what he had in mind but she was happy to go along with it all the same. They stopped in a subway station and Spike brought her down from his shoulder. “Here.” “This where you...” she started. “No, killed her in the subway car,” he said plainly. “Got out here. It was supposed to be a rush, thrill. The high didn’t last like it had with the one in China. So I sought out another. Died before I could get to her, and the next one, and the next one. Then there was Liz. Buffy nodded in understanding. “I wanted her to be proud of me, you know. I didn’t start seeking out the Slayer cause I could. It was the one thing that Angelus hadn’t done. He couldn’t kill you,” he said tenderly. “But I could kill slayers better than he could. “I just wanted her to be proud of me,” Spike added with a small smile and there was no doubt in Buffy’s mind that he was talking about Dru. If this was what he needed to get over her, then she would help him. Buffy reached out and touched his face gently. “I love you, you know.” “I know.” “So where to next? You’re in charge of this little tour...” His eyes poured into hers and she instantly knew that this was going to be a trip down memory lane. Taking his hand she opened portals that sent them to Germany, outside what once had been the warehouse he’d been imprisoned in. “Whatever happened to Morgan, luv?” he asked cooly. “Married a girl that suspiciously looked like Anya, had babies and died in his bed in 1987,” answered Buffy. Spike laughed at that. “Knew you never gave it up to him.” “Hey! I’m not proud of pining after you forever. But no, didn’t ever do anything more than kiss with Morgan.” “You kissed him!” he raged jealously. “It was for a mission, and yes, I did!” she noted gleefully. “And it was good too!” Giggling at the irate vamp, she grabbed his hand. “Next!” Two portals more and they stood in that Buddhist temple that held so many memories for the both of them. Spike peered sideways at her. “Just how did you know this was the place?” he asked. Buffy dropped his hand and moved away from him. “’Cause I was here?” she mumbled. “I saw you kill her. I saw what happened after too, before I finally willed myself to move away.” “Buffy...” he whispered softly, reaching out to her. She folded her arms across her chest and stared at the floor. “No. Don’t try to make up for it now. It happened a hundred years ago. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.” “What were you doing in China, love? There was a rebellion on.” “I started it. Moving on!” He voice held no room for argument and wisely Spike dropped the topic. A few steps through portals and they were looking at the closet in Venice where she had told him that she was pregnant with his child. “Think you missed one stop love,” he patronised. “That stop’s painful, don’t want to go there twice.” It was his turn to be the understanding one. “Wonder if we could get Anya set up with Angelus...” pondered Buffy trying to avoid the subject they were skirting by. “Though he seemed to have his hands full when I... No more talking from me. Spike fill the silence.” “That horn case we did it against? It was right painful,” he supplied. “You remember what instrument case we had sex against?” she questioned. “It was memorable!” Spike defended. “Not everyday the Slayer turned vengeance demon tells you, a vampire, that the Bit’s yours instead of the bloody Immortal’s.” Buffy smiled sweetly. “I think I’d promised you that you’d get invited to the next party that Anyanka planned. I don’t think I followed through on that one.” “I was invited to her wedding. That was on my own merit,” he added. “You wanna...” he leered suggestively. “No, it loses something without Anyanka and Angelus shagging beside us,” she laughed grabbing his hand and leading him through another set of portals to their next destination. The pair of demons looked around the gutted space and frowned. “Reagan’s apartment?” asked Spike. “They must be renovating,” observed Buffy. “This is disappointing.” “Wonder what happened to her kin though. Are they still watchers?” asked Spike. “Probably, it kinda runs in the family. They didn’t want anything to do with me either,” Buffy observed bitterly. “Give Liz time, I’m sure she’ll come ‘round.” “Right,” Buffy responded cynically. “Hey,” he murmured softly, catching her chin with his fingers and thumb. “No talking like that.” He planted a soft kiss on her lips. “Where to next love?” “The Council?” she offered sweetly. At his look of terror she laughed. “Even I’m not that stupid.” Two portal jumps later and they were standing in front of the place she had avoided for such a long time. Before her stood the family plot the gravestones of her mother, sister, father, son, daughter-in-law, grandson, granddaughter-in-law, great-granddaughter and Annette all stared back at her. “I wish they were all buried here,” she whispered. “Henry and Isabella, who knows where they are buried.” “Dawn could probably find out for you,” Spike responded clasping her hand gently. “Christopher would be happy you found Liz and Dawn.” “And then he’d be all worried about drawing the Immortal to them. It’s why he never told us that Henry and Isabella had gone to America,” she countered. “Can we stay here?” she asked. “For a while? To be with them?” Spike nodded slowly. He knew that she hadn’t been here since Noël died. It was time to be together with their family. Buffy let go of Spike’s hand and crouched down towards Christopher’s grave. With her hand extended she brushed her fingers against he engraved marks noting that Christopher William Fairchilde was buried here. “Hey Christopher,” she started sadly. “Look who’s finally together. I know I haven’t been to visit in a while.” Spike looked on sadly as she began to tell their son all of the things that had happened in the 40 or so years since she’d been back here. Behind him stood the Underwood family house, boarded up and unused, unlived in since Annette was taken. It was time old memories were uncovered. She’d proved that with this little journey. It might have been to distract him from the pain of Dru’s loss or she might have had an ulterior motive, but it worked, whatever her purpose. Looking down at his mate, who was still speaking in soft tones to the son she’d outlived, Spike finally realised that while Dru was gone, Buffy had always been there. And he wasn’t giving her up ever again. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #34 - The Written Word

Disclaimer: Joss owns all, all hail his genius. Author’s note: Some dialogue taken from ‘Lessons’ Also as usual Bloodytearsoflife rocks my socks and is a fab beta goddess! _________________________ Chapter 34:The Written Word Four months later a happy Buffy was having coffee with Anya back in Sunnydale coming to the realisation that she had been away from her friend and from Dawn for far too long. It didn’t help that D’Hoffryn had told her to give Anya a heads up about her mediocre wish quality of late. And there was also that thing where everyone from vengeance demons to vampires could feel that something bad was about to rise up. She could have done without the mediocre entertainment at the coffee place though. The folk singers were making her cringe with every note they slaughtered. “God, they’re depressing,” noted Anya sipping her coffee. “Oh, who are they kidding with that happy shiny crap?” exclaimed Buffy wanting to be far away from the pair of singers ASAP. “Six weeks tops and she’s calling on me for vengeance,” Anya observed, nodding her head at the folk singers and bringing business back into the conversation. Buffy couldn’t help herself but laugh. “Oh, he better run for cover.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Anya offended, her friend‘s slightly mocking tone not going unnoticed. “Oh, sweetie, you know exactly what it means,” Buffy soothed her friend. She didn’t want this to be confrontational at all. “Excuse me?” “Everyone is talking about it. They’re calling you Miss Softserve. Tell me you don’t know this...” “But... Who?” “Listen, Anya. I’ve always looked up to you. You were my mentor when I first got into this thing. You helped me out when I thought I’d made the wrong decision. You were the single most hard-core vengeance demon on the roster and everybody knew it. Do I have to mention Mrs. Cholgosh?” Anya smiled in remembrance. “Hmm. Good times.” “And then you lost your powers. It happens. And you fell for this Xander guy, you‘ve always had this thing for men with large upper arms, Angelus, Morgan...” “It was a glitch. A summer thing. I am so back in the vengeance fold,” Anya insisted with a nod. Buffy shook her head sadly. “No deaths, no eviscerations. You’re not goading women into anything inventive and you’re not delivering when it is.” “I don’t even know...” Buffy cut her off. “Waitress downtown. Wished her husband was a frog. You made him French!” “He’s smelly!” began Anya defensively. “And with a little moustache, he...” “Listen, Anya, if it was just me...” “What do you mean if it was just you?” Anya interrupted, her eyes wide with panic. “D’Hoffryn, the Lower Beings... they’re all feeling the heat. Something’s rising... something older than the Old Ones- and everybody’s tail is twitching. This is a bad time to be a good guy...” “What is this, an intervention? Shouldn’t all my demon friends be here?” “Sweetie...they are,” noted Buffy sadly, patting her friend’s hand. _________________________ Sunnydale had a new high school, which made Buffy roll her eyes at her bad luck. It was so much of a bother to get well placed at a new school just to see Dawn. She didn’t know how she’d be received at the girls’ house though. Yes, she had helped out Liz and Dawn by keeping Dawn safe during the whole Willow: ‘mad witch,’ thing, but had that changed anything? Buffy wasn’t going to hold her breath. Standing outside this edifice, she couldn’t help but yearn to pop in there and start granting wishes left, right and centre. The sun shone brightly as Buffy’s eyes darted from side to side trying to resist temptation. Out the main door of the school, the one person that could make her resist this temptation of teenage angst and self loathing, Liz, exited the school and glared at Buffy. I guess things don’t change after all Buffy thought. Liz stopped her trek towards a tan coloured car, openly staring at Buffy for few moments. The hatred in her eyes was clear as day. With what looked like effort to tear herself away, Liz moved into the car. Buffy nodded sadly. Yes, she had hoped that Liz had gotten over the hatred aspect, but still, Buffy had seen her share of disappointment in life and it wasn’t going to suddenly stop because she had at last found and claimed her mate. Turning her eyes away from Liz’s direction and resisting the urge to get emotional, Buffy disappeared in a puff of smoke and appeared in Sunnydale High, the halls instantly inundated with students on their way to their next class. Stealthily, Buffy stalked her granddaughter as she moved through the crowd. As Dawn turned a corner, leading her into a less crowded hallway, Buffy took the opportunity to catch her attention. “Dawn?” Buffy whispered, trying to not startle the girl much. Despite that she wasn’t trying to startle her, Dawn jumped. “Don’t do that!” she laughed, clutching her heart. “Erixel!” Dawn’s surprise turned to joy as she saw her demon grandmother. “I don’t have time,” noted Buffy, gathering Dawn into a hug. “Come to Spike’s crypt after school? Okay?” Dawn nodded, her face eager and excited. They hugged once more before the bell rang, sending Dawn running down the hallway to her next class. Buffy returned to the crypt to find that Spike had decided that he needed to have all of his old poker buddies over for the afternoon. Secretly Buffy loved the idea, but being jovial and that she wanted to get herself out of the funk caused by seeing Liz, she decided to give him a hard time. She appeared in the crypt, demon face in place and spread her arms wide. “I have been summoned and vengeance shall I wreak,” she began formally, as if she had been called to do vengeance. The demons around the foraged table looked up startled, a few with fear in their faces. “I thought you said that we would be safe from her while we were here?” asked one. Spike slapped his cards down on the table and frowned up at his mate. “Oh I’m just kidding. It’s too funny not to,” she added sweetly, shaking off her demon face and setting herself down on Spike’s lap. She tilted her neck and bite marks towards him, inviting him to nuzzle. He did, quickly, he still had a sort of reputation to keep. He didn’t need his own slayer of slayers rep anymore to keep wanna be’s off of his back: that was accomplished by stating that he was mated to Erixel. To the outside world it seemed that she controlled him, but it was still really the other way around. Just as it had always been. No one knew that except her of course, and Dawn. “Dawn’s coming over after school,” stated Buffy, picking up Spike’s cards for him off the table. “’Bout bloody time we saw the Bit again,” observed Spike. “Did you see the Slayer?” asked one of the demons. The door crashed open, practically breaking the hinges. The topic of conversation standing in the doorway. “I see the slayer now...” whispered Spike’s friend Clem. “Hey! Liz! Remember me? I came to your birthday party?” A look of recognition passed over Liz’s face. “Right,” she muttered. “Nice to see you again.” She stared at the demons in the crypt waiting for them to leave before she started whatever it was that she was going to say. “Uh, right,” said Clem, putting down his cards and pushing his chair back. “I suddenly remembered that I have to pick up my Aunt from the bus depot.” Suddenly all the other demons around the table found reasons to leave the poker fun night...err...day. As the last demon left the crypt, Spike started to curse. “Bloody hell, Liz!” he moaned. “Can’t a bloke have a poker game when he comes back into town?” “Yes, if bloke means blood sucking vampire,” Liz responded. “I wanna know what you and your demon bride are doing in my town again?” Buffy rolled her eyes from her position on Spike’s lap. “Thought we’d blow in and wreak some havoc. Relive the glory days, pre-chip and all,” Spike responded, wrapping one free arm around Buffy’s waist. Buffy’s eyes, glued as they were to Liz’s face, couldn’t help but notice the brief flash of jealousy marr her angry intolerant expression. It was an expression Buffy was very familiar with and for an instant she felt for the vampire slayer. It was only a brief instant though. Liz stepped towards the couple, drawing a stake out of her jacket. “You aren’t going to stake him, Liz,” said Buffy authoritatively. “Why not?” asked Liz cheerfully. “Vampire, stake, dust. Pretty straight forward if you ask me.” “Because if you do you, will regret it the rest of your life. Short or long. Spike may be a vampire but he’s been your friend and ally for longer than you’d like to admit. And Dawn would never forgive you.” Spike laughed as Liz pouted. Buffy had hit the one point that Liz couldn’t put aside. Dawn. “Why can’t you just leave us alone?” Liz, directed to Buffy. “Everything was fine before you showed up!” Buffy leaned back against her mate and crossed her arms. “So the whole, not experiencing life, ignoring your sister and your friends, that was a whole bunch of fine and dandy?” “What would you know?” said Liz. “You are a liar and a demon. You aren’t Elizabeth Underwood! You are the one that killed her. I bet you even were the one who led Spike to Drusilla to be turned!” Buffy turned to Spike and laughed. “I thought that D’Hoffryn was supposed to be the one that killed me?” she questioned. “History gets rewritten from time to time, love,” offered Spike. “Even the Watcher’s Council.” “Which is ever so reliable,” countered Buffy. “Good grief!” shouted Liz. “Do you ever stop? It didn’t happen!” With a shake of her head, Buffy lifted herself off of Spike’s lap and stepped away from him, opened a portal, stepped in and stepped back out, holding a book. She smiled apologetically at her mate and stepped closer to him to give him a kiss. She looked longingly at the book in her hands and sighed. She hadn’t wanted to give this precious memento over to Liz, but there needed to be a change. Buffy held out the leather bound volume to her granddaughter. “This will tell you all you need to know, and some things that you probably don’t want to know. Or at least there are many people that don’t want you to know it.” Hesitantly, Liz extended her arm and took the book carefully. It looked old, its pages worn and fragile. “If you decide to read it, you’re bloody well staying here with it,” added Spike, standing up realising just what Buffy had handed to the Slayer. Liz looked up, an anxious look on her face. She caressed the journal of Elizabeth Cecily Underwood. Carefully, with Buffy and Spike’s eyes upon her she dropped her stake and headed towards a vacant seat, where once demons had sat playing poker. She opened the journal and exhaled deeply. “You could have made this all up,” started Liz, trying to find another reason to disbelieve. “If you know anything about Elizabeth Underwood from the Watcher’s diaries, then you won’t be able to poke holes in the information you’ll learn today,” countered Buffy. Liz nodded, still not willing to put stock into what she held in her hand, but she turned to the first page and began to read in silence, as the two demons watched her. Spike fumbled for a cigarette as he knew that soon Liz would know. Know who he was and just how icky it made him feel. That was why he needed a fag. Mama gave me this dear little diary to record my innermost thoughts. Our dear Queen Victoria keeps a diary as well. What joy that I am participating in a royal tradition. But perhaps I should at this point add to the record my name and particulars. I sense that one day this book will be preserved as a record of my life, be it short or long. I am of course not vain enough to wish to be famous or keep company of that rank, but perhaps to my family it would be a comfort to have this record. An inspiration to my granddaughters. On this auspicious date I, Elizabeth Cecily Underwood, am fourteen years of age, resident of Underwood Manor, Kent in the grand British Empire. In the next room I hear my sister Danielle whining that she should be allowed to go horseback riding today even though the horses are needed by father’s coach. She is rather annoying. Mama, whose given name is Joanne, is painting a screen trying to ignore Danielle’s whining. Papa has of course been able to keep busy in his study while waiting for the coach to be ready to take him to London for business. Papa has business this time with his lawyers, and to arrange my next year of boarding school. Liz looked up from the journal and at the demon that was whispering quietly with her vampire. In her mind, Spike was still hers. It was Erixel’s fault that he had withdrawn his affections. She needed to get Erixel away from him somehow. As much as she wanted to deny what she was reading it did look like she was reading the actual journal of a deceased Slayer. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #35 - Take Out

Disclaimer: Joss is god, not God god, but a lesser benevolent god. Author’s note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BTL! *hugs* You are the most awesome-est beta ever! _________________________ Chapter 35: Take Out Liz turned another page of the journal, careful with the delicate pages. She had read through the sparse entries between boarding school and vacations, through the year leading up to Elizabeth’s impending chosen-ness. The girl had not a care in the world. Her normal, genteel lifestyle was about to be horribly altered very soon. The days leading up to Elizabeth’s 15th birthday were hectic and fraught with anticipation. As the eldest girl, Elizabeth expected that she was to be presented to society after her 15th birthday. That event alone was cause for celebration to the teenage Victorian. The day before the event, however, there was a large gap in the entries. The next entry was over a month later. What to say about what has passed since my last entry? began the cursive writing at the top of the next page. Liz held her breath as she anticipated the badness. My world has fallen down around my ears. I’ve spent nights crying out my distress to my pillow. How incredibly unfair is this life I’ve been dealt. On the day of my birthday a strange man by the name of Giles came to our home and declared that he had an urgent wish to speak with my father about business. The business turned out to concern me in great detail. I am chosen, to defend the world from vampires and demons, things that I had believed only existed in fiction and nightmares. All this on my birthday. My father, bless his soul, had my best interests at heart. He negotiated conditions to keep me in school, to stay at home and begin my extensive training. Extensive training. I gulped audibly when I heard that. Ladies aren’t to exert themselves and I, a lady, am supposed to begin training how to fight these monsters. It’s atrocious. What am I to do? How am I to cope? Why has this happened to me? Liz sighed, drawing attention to herself. The vengeance demon and the vampire looked up from their whispers. Quickly, she returned to her reading. Details of her training, of how she grew closer to Giles and the dark demon underworld of her world unfolded. Until he appeared on the scene. Angelus. Liz’s cheeks turned red as she read of the exploits of the scourge as they closed in on Elizabeth’s family. It was like reading an action/horror novel; she couldn’t turn her eyes away from the neatly scrawled script on the page before her. That was, until the door to the crypt suddenly banged open and Dawn burst through the entrance. Reluctantly, Liz let her eyes drift to her sister’s form. Dawn’s happy face fell when their eyes connected. “Oh great, she is here. Are you here to take me back home before I even get to see Erixel and Spike? You are so not fun. Why can’t you just get over him? You never liked him when he was all following you around. Move on,” spat Dawn as she crossed her arms angrily. Liz’s cheeks reddened at her true feelings being exposed so bluntly. “Dawn!” “What?” asked Dawn. “And what are you reading? And are you going to make things nasty for my visit with Spike and Erixel?” “No,” Liz admitted. “I’m not. Really, visit away.” Liz turned back to the story unfolding in her hands. _________________________ Dawn was through telling the tragic story of how she ruined her chances with the cutest boy in school on the first day of school when she looked over at her sister who was engrossed in a book. Liz reading a book without paying attention to anything or anyone, especially when there sat a demon and a vampire in the same room, let alone with her little sister, was extremely out of the ordinary. “What is she reading?” asked Dawn curiously, looking over her shoulder. Buffy sighed. “Something I had hoped that I would never have to share with anyone.” “What is it?” asked Dawn again. “My diary,” admitted Buffy, grabbing Spike’s hand. “Is she gonna find out about...” Dawn waved her hands between Buffy and Spike. Buffy looked over her shoulder at Liz and cringed. “Eventually.” I have come to live in London, despite my protests. Giles believes that it is for the best, as ever, to be closer to the Council, to associate with Council approved acquaintances, to train with the best resources of the Council. This would all be well and good, except that I will miss home, even more than when I was at school. Danielle was so sad when I left. She was convinced that we should never see each other again. We cried together even as my trunks were being packed on the coach. The situation in London is not promising. I am housed with the Travers family, a family I would not have condescended to acquaint myself with under normal circumstances. They are vain, superior and just plain vile to talk to, the whole lot of them. I have never cried so often as I have these last few hours. I want to go back home to the comforting arms of my mother, the protective embrace of my father and yes, even the annoying and whining company of my sister. I miss them all so much. I pray to God every hour that they would decide that I’m not this special chosen one, that I can resume a normal life. Please, let me go... Liz wiped a tear from her eye, having felt those same feelings of wanting a normal life. She inhaled trying to calm herself and kept reading. I met Angelus today. Giles said that it would be a momentous occasion if I came out of the encounter alive. He isn’t too bad. A vampire, yes, an Irish man, uncouth, appalling manners but not at all what I expected from a vampire, though he is the first master vampire I have been up against. He called me HIS Elizabeth, as if I was his plaything to toy with. I might say that I got off quite a few cutting remarks on his fighting style, his large forehead and his terrible hair cut. The quips I made, though, have not rested my heart at ease. Giles tells me that I am alive because he wants me alive, and nothing more. Entirely reassuring. So I am to train harder, longer than ever before. Of that I would have been grateful only days ago, but something has changed and I am anxious to write it down for fear of spoiling it. Giles is always careful with whom I associate and will not let me say my name is Elizabeth even in the company of friends. Though I have not many. In society, I am Cecily Underwood, using my middle name, and though it is mine to use I do not like it very much. I am unused to responding to it. No doubt someone will call out ‘Cecily’ and I’ll not respond or worse, someone will call out ‘Elizabeth’ and I will. I have made two new acquaintances. And they are the most delightful people. I do wish to know them better. The first of course is Reagan. We have instantly become great friends. She is the daughter of a member of the Council. Her father, who once had the training and care of a potential but now, as that girl is far beyond her fifteen years, he has resumed his research at the Council building itself. Reagan is very proud of her father and speaks of him with great admiration. I would think that one day, she would like to be a watcher as well. Reagan is far better company than Miranda or Felicity Travers. For that I am truly grateful. The other acquaintance I am please to recount here is the appearance of a new member of our society. I had only known Reagan a few days when she invited me to a party at which this gentleman was invited. I am completely smitten. His name is Fairchilde and he is the sweetest and most kind person I have ever had the pleasure to meet. It is quite silly of me but I find myself envisioning romantic notions about my further acquaintance with Mr. William Fairchilde. Liz turned the page, not bothering to pay attention to the fact that Dawn was bidding her good bye or that Spike was leaving with her. Buffy looked over at Liz with worry about what she would think, how she would react when she found out the inevitable. Dawn and Spike left as soon as the sunset to get take out. There was no way she was leaving the Slayer with her diary, granddaughter or not. Liz let out a gasp out at what she read next and Buffy could only guess what catastrophe she had read. They are all gone. It’s been weeks since I’ve discovered them, and yet, the nightmares, the memories of finding my family turn my stomach and drive me to fear the dark as I never have before. Reagan has been of great help, her comforting words and glances have meant the world to me, as Giles refuses to let me wear black or withdraw from the world, for even a short time. Vampires don’t mourn the dead and neither should the Slayer. Cruel words to a sixteen year old girl. The lectures are never ending. No human attachments except with your watcher. No friends, or acquaintances outside the Council. No future to look forward to. Giles never fails to tell me that had I left my family when he had first come for me instead of spending those first few months with them that I would still be able to say they were alive. It was my reluctance to leave them that condemned them to death. I can’t help but be riddled with guilt. My father’s mutilated body, the family pets disembowelled, these images haunt me day and night. My mother and sister hidden so well that the tunnel they fled into had not enough air to keep them alive while they waited. Servants I had known all my life slaughtered and left to cook in the sun...I shudder to think on what I saw when I returned home. Giles says Angelus did this, and I believe him. If only I had come home sooner, or if I had dusted Angelus the first time. Giles has more news from the Council. Angelus has been joined by his Sire and his Childe, Darla childe of the Master and Drusilla the Mad. It makes my job harder he says. Because knowing that my inaction brought about my family’s demise, that’s not difficult enough? Only Mr. Fairchilde could cheer me up as he has, dear man. I call him William now, for I have discovered his secret. He writes poetry. Yes, it isn’t Tennyson or Shakespeare but it is entertaining and delightful. And about me, I suspect. Reagan teases me about him mercilessly but I don’t care. He is darling. I caught him writing a poem about the Golden Goddess of Kent and I could not help but smile. It is so unfortunate that William knows nothing of the Council or Slayers. He is in his own fantasy world most of the time, save for when he drifts out of it to get me a glass of punch or take care of his ailing mother. I refuse to think of him as anything other than wonderful. I think I could love him, if I let myself. If I was allowed... I have met his mother. Lovely lady Mrs. Fairchilde is too. I entirely see where William gets his kindness and sweetness from. She came to tea at Mrs Chambers’ house, a lady whom I despise but is the something or other of a Council member and so I must go. It is prestigious for her to say that she has had tea with the last four Slayers who resided in England. Not all Slayers have resided in England though, and that statement makes her a very old woman. Reagan attended as well. She is well on her way to being one of the first ladies allowed to be watchers. Though they have not allowed it yet, Reagan feels confident that they will soon. Her father being very important in the Council will no doubt make her one of the first candidates. No new news on Angelus and the ‘Scourge’ as Giles calls them. I have faced Angelus a few times now, and I hate him with every fibre of my being. That is what Giles is wary of, of course, that my emotions will cloud my judgement. I wonder sometimes if Giles has a heart at all... There was a loud crash as Dawn and Spike barrelled through the door of the crypt clutching take out bags and running madly. “I can’t believe you did that!” shouted Dawn. Spike smirked as he handed the bags to Buffy to hold while he took off his duster. “I’m afraid,” started the vengeance demon. “What did you do?” “Spike added a little something to Xander’s car...” started Dawn, walking over to Spike’s now discarded duster and pulled out a can from the pocket. Liz’s eyes went wide as her brain processed the information. “You silly stringed Xander’s car?” spat Liz, unable to believe it. “Sent the whelp a message is all,” protested Spike. “Wanker is a message?” asked Dawn. “You bet it is,” Spike said proudly. “’Sides, got to get my evil kicks in somehow.” Buffy rolled her eyes and started setting out the food, and making places for them all to sit while they ate, a curious glance at Liz just to make sure her instincts were correct as she did it. Within moments Dawn and Spike were settled eating chow mein and chicken wings, as Buffy handed a plate to Liz, who was still sitting on the tomb, the diary in hand. “Just don’t get plum sauce on the book,” warned Buffy. Liz nodded and started shovelling the food into her mouth. She was hungrier than she thought she had been and she wasn’t the one paying for the food, which meant good things for her bank account. Glancing over to the group in front of the TV arguing over the local news and how much of the news events were caused by vengeance demons, vampires or prophecies, Liz had to come to a startling conclusion. They acted like a family, looked like a family and Liz kinda wanted to be part of that. She missed her mom so much and refused to want anyone else to parent her. Dawn on the other hand, it looked like this was what she needed. Liz turned back to the diary and started reading again, wanting a conclusion to the story unfolding before her. The one that she knew led to the death of a Slayer. I’ve done it, I’ve broken his heart and now I’m lost. Soon Giles will make me go out into the night again and fight Angelus. I don’t want to win. I don’t want to go on. The words I said to my poor sweet William, words that I didn’t know I had the gall to use at all came issuing from my mouth as I pictured what Angelus would do William should he find him out. I couldn’t bare that. I just want to die. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #36 - OMG

Disclaimer: Joss made Cecily a bitch...Did I redeem her enough yet? Author’s note: Once again, hugs and thanks to the great and wonderful BTL for the betaing! _________________________ Chapter 36: OMG Curiously the handwriting changed significantly as though someone new was writing in book. Here’s where Erixel killed her, Liz thought. I don’t know how quite to start this entry into Buffy’s journal. She begged me to write in it just what has happened to her. I saw her today and she looks too frail, so small. I can’t help but think that she doesn’t look like the Slayer should. She told me of her fight with Angelus and Darla and how she was bitten, but not drained and dropped from the balcony above the street. Giles saved her life, firing a flaming arrow at Angelus while he had his fangs in her neck. For once I am truly glad of Giles’ actions. Unfortunately she is paralysed. She can’t move her legs. The doctors say that she will be fine in time due to her Slayer healing powers. But I know the truth, I hear the whispers coming from my father’s study. Buffy is in danger from the Council. And I think that my father might be one of those planning her demise! And her heart is not well. Mr Fairchilde has been killed and turned, the watcher guarding his grave was drained. What more could possibly happen to dear sweet Buffy? She has had everything taken away from her because of her calling. I must not tarry longer than I have. Buffy will be missing me in her captivity, because that is what it is, a captivity of body and spirit. I must tell her what I have heard and together we must plan to free her. Poor Buffy. Reagan Wyndham Liz eagerly turned the page, her attention not drawn by the tempting smell of the chicken wings that Spike was eating or even the food that was left on her plate. Again I find it’s been months since I last added to your story, dear diary, began the next entry, in Elizabeth’s hand writing this time. Liz was suddenly relieved that Elizabeth hadn’t been killed after all. I must recount exactly what happened to me and why I am in the place in which I write this entry. I suspect future generations, if ever I choose to reveal this history to my progeny should I have any, it seems doubtful now, might be interested. I was left with Reagan in hopes of a plan. We practiced spells and were very close to finding an escape from the Council’s clutches. Though I had nothing to live for, I had the will to live, paralysed or not. Too bad I didn’t get the choice in the end. Reagan never came back after she went away for the ingredients for our next spell. And then no one came at all, for what seemed like days. Then they came. Four men, watchers, come to suffocate me in my sleep. How courteous of them. It didn’t take. As I drew my last breath I muttered a curse and spell, combining two that Reagan and I had worked on. Whatever I did to the men worked towards my purpose. They ran screaming from the room. Later I’ve discovered that I made their blood boil in their skins or some such horrible thing. They died. Nice and simple. That’s probably not a nice thing to say coming from the Slayer. While I lay in my paralysed state, wondering what was going on, what was happening with the screaming coming from the lower council chambers and why no one was coming to check on me, I was graced with the presence of a demon I had only heard tales of. A demon of legend you might say. D’Hoffryn, master of Arashamahar was sitting at the foot of my sick bed. I can say that my emotions and sensibilities were a bit confounded. A demon was in my room and I was unable to do anything about it. He was a pleasant man, not hardly what I had expected, his calm and jovial manner was a delight after only being in the company of those that believed I was destined to die or remain paralysed for the rest of my life. He explained my fortunate wording of the curse and congratulated me on my ingenuity and offered to elevate me to demon status. No more Slayer! No more would I be confined to the sick bed. Well it’s not me anymore, which is the important part. I am Elizabeth no more. I am Erixel from now on. Erixel of Arashamahar. So what does Erixel, vengeance demon do now that she is all elevated and such? I found Reagan pushed down an oubliette, she was awed that I was a demon now, but wasn’t as judgemental as I thought she would be under the circumstances. Giles had thought me dead. The Council had told him that it was so. He unfortunately didn’t want anything to do with me again. Not a problem really. But William. I found William hanging from the rafters in the same house that Angelus had caused my injury. He was bleeding and covered in scratches and wounds that looked painful. What could I do but beg his forgiveness. I won’t go into the details, it was a humbling experience I would not wish to dwell on too long, though I suspect I’ll be reliving it every night of my long existence. He is no longer mine. He claims that he belongs to Drusilla, the one who made him. It is a bitter concept to swallow, that the man who wrote detailed poems about my hair could now be enraptured by another woman. I left him there, tied to the rafters. He didn’t want to be let down. Even as a vampire I couldn’t help but love him. When Reagan had told me of his turning I still had those feelings. That was proof enough to me that I loved him beyond all consideration. I can only hope that either he tires of Drusilla or that she falls on a sharp branch and dusts. She is mad after all. Liz looked up at the demon who was cleaning up the takeout boxes. She didn’t look evil, and like Anyanka, she wasn’t evil through and through, Liz believed. The diary had been an eye opener. She believed that the Council was capable of killing a slayer, especially one that was useless to them. They had wanted to kill Faith after her walk on the wild side. Nothing about what she had read so far was surprising. Except for the truth of it. That was the surprising part. And it was then that she had concluded that Erixel was in fact the Slayer Elizabeth Underwood. “So you didn’t die?” Liz asked. Buffy looked over at the Slayer and nodded. “I’m still alive and kickin’,” she tried to joke. “The Council tried to kill you?” asked Liz, more still processing the information than anything else. Buffy nodded again. “I wonder how it got changed to Erixel killing the invalid Slayer then?” Liz pondered. “Well, first it was Elizabeth takes her own life, and then they found out about D’Hoffryn from Giles. I don’t suppose it is very difficult to jump from D’Hoffryn to Erixel.” “Do you believe her now?” asked Dawn, annoyed. Liz looked down at the diary wanting to read more, then back at Erixel. “I...I don’t know,” she muttered, hesitation in her voice. “God! Make up your mind!” cried Dawn. “Erixel’s a Summers! Why can’t you see that.” “I haven’t seen any proof of that, Dawn,” Liz yelled back just as angry as her sister. “All I know is that Elizabeth Underwood was elevated to a vengeance demon. That is all I see from this diary,” countered Liz. Buffy sighed, reaching over to squeeze Spike’s hand. With an imperceptible nod, Spike let his mate know that he was ok with Liz reading the rest of it. “Keep reading then,” said Buffy sadly. “If that diary convinces you, then I am glad I kept it all these years. Liz’s eyes went back to the last paragraph she had read. I can only hope that either he tires of Drusilla or that she falls on a sharp branch and dusts. She is mad after all. It was like a light went off in Liz’s head. “Oh my god! Spike is William Fairchilde?” exclaimed Liz. “That was quick,” noted Buffy dryly. “Are you saying that Spike is like our great grandfather or something?” Liz spat. She looked from Erixel to Dawn, to Spike and back to Dawn. “That’s what I’m saying,” offered Dawn. “Doesn’t it make you feel icky?” taunted her younger sister. Liz cringed and threw down the diary. “I think I’m going to be sick. Did you know?” she asked the vampire. Spike shook his head emphatically even while Liz started pacing the room and Dawn dissolved into a fit of giggles. “Dawn you aren’t helping,” chided Buffy. “But it’s funny!” cackled the teen. “I have to leave,” muttered the Slayer, “I need to think.” And with that Liz left the crypt. The vampire, the vengeance demon and the key all looked at each other with equal parts mirth and worry on their faces. Not one of them knew just how Liz would react to this news. “Give her some time to digest it, everything will be ok,” offered Dawn. “She’s just way weirded out by the kissing. I’m way weirded out by the kissing. Ugh. Ok, I’m going. Do you know when you’ll be back in Sunnydale?” “Not as such Bit,” responded Spike. “Got to keep our distance, don’t want another big bad coming to your town.” “The Immortal can’t be worse than, ‘from beneath you, it devours,’ that’s our latest happy hellmouthy problem.” With a hug to each of them, Dawn departed the crypt. The two demons left to their own devices looked at each other perplexed. “From beneath you, it devours?” questioned Buffy. “Got me, love,” responded Spike, just as confused as she was. “Wonder if D’Hoffryn knows.” “Can’t hurt to ask the wanker,” sneered Spike. “Be nice, vampire!” Buffy playfully ordered. “He’s my boss.” “You don’t need a bloody boss. Perfectly good at what you do without one. That’s what so bloody good about vampires. No one tells me what to do.” Buffy smiled at her mate. “’Cause you have no purpose in life, except to exist and cause mayhem.” “I thought loving you was purpose enough...” Spike offered with a smile. “Sweet.” “I try.” Buffy leaned down and planted a kiss on his lips. “Love you,” she whispered. _________________________ Buffy appeared before her boss, his audience chamber full of demons from all across Arashamahar. Their worried looks and whispered nervous babblings were evident even to Buffy as she walked towards the floor towards D’Hoffryn. “Erixel, you have come at last,” began D’Hoffryn. “I hope you have had your fill of the hellmouth for the time. There is something afoot.” Buffy raised an eyebrow as she stepped back into the crowd and watched as D’Hoffryn began his explanation of just what he’d discovered from the other dimensions and his contacts with the gods. “The First Evil is rising. We will have to choose which side we will be on in the final battle. I realise that many of you have loyalties to the humans, you work closely with them, some of you may even have promised support to their cause, but it is in vain. This is not something that I can decide for you. It is up to each and every one of you to decided who you support, the evil or the good.” Buffy sucked in a breath. “From beneath you, it devours,” she whispered. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #37 - Curse

Disclaimer: I don’t own them, I only play with them. Author’s note: Thanks to the great and wonderful Bloodytearsoflife for the betaing. *hugs* ___________________ Chapter 37: Curse Buffy reclined on her couch as she listened to Spike’s recital of Tennyson. He was really a good orator. He paused between verses just as Buffy heard D’Hoffryn’s summons in her head. She stood, halting her mate mid poem. “D’Hoffryn’s calling. Be back soon,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek as he growled his frustration. She teleported to her boss’ location surprised to find herself in Sunnydale, Anya and Liz in the room with him, both in standing defensively. “You know the price,“ intoned D’Hoffryn, to Anya. Buffy felt the heat envelope her at D’Hoffryn’s words. The feeling of her skin being burnt off at a temperature that would have evaporated human flesh wasn’t painful, but she knew that this would kill her, eventually. Her thoughts turned to Spike, then Dawn. She didn’t want to leave them like this with no trace of what happened to her. It was some small consolation that both Anya and Liz were there to witness her demise, they could tell Spike what had happened to her. Suddenly the heat ended and a piercing scream filled the frat house. With her skin charred, but slowly healing, Buffy turned attention to the screams of her boss. D’Hoffryn was ripping at his skin, cutting himself with his claws as he fought against whatever it was that was happening to him. It was then that Buffy realised what happened. So did Liz. “The curse,” the slayer started, her eyes wide. This was just another piece of the puzzle that fit and proved to her that Buffy was really who she said she was. “The curse still works. You can’t kill her.” The pitiful wails of the Master of Arashmahar turned to whimpers as he cowered on the floor. “Will it kill him?” asked Anya, looking at her boss. “I don’t know,” Buffy offered honestly. “He’s a demon, the original curse was for humans. I had no idea that it would still work.” “I think it still works,” noted Liz, waving a hand in the direction of D’Hoffryn, groaning in pain, his whimpers becoming less. At last he stopped his moaning and lay prostrate on the ground. “Is he dead?” asked Anya, prodding the still body with her foot and getting no response. “I guess...” offered Buffy. “Well that was kinda anticlimactic,” Liz commented. Buffy looked up from the body of her boss and to her best friend and her granddaughter. “So how is everyone?” she asked. “Confused,” started Anya. “What happens now? Am I still a vengeance demon? Who’s the master of Arashamahar now? Is Liz still gonna try to slay me?” “Valid questions,” began Buffy. “Can you teleport?” Anya poofed out of the room and reappeared in another corner of the room. “Affirmative. And I feel all weird, powerful, and uneasy, like there’s trouble at home.” Buffy nodded. “I feel it too.” Buffy turned to Liz and cupped her cheek tenderly. “I’ll be back soon to visit with you and Dawn. I’ll bring Spike.” Liz nodded. Buffy took Anya’s hand and together they stepped into a portal that led to D’Hoffryn’s audience chamber, leaving his body behind. The room was filled with demons milling about, worried, suddenly without a master, a boss, a god. The moment Anya and Buffy entered the room all eyes turned to them. It was no secret that D’Hoffryn had favoured them above all others of his creation. Krevlin approached the pair, a sad look on his face. With definite planned motion, Krevlin took Anyanka’s hand and kissed it. The other demons in the room hushed, parting ways as Anyanka approached. Buffy knew exactly what was going on. Anya was the new mistress of Arashamahar. The worried look on Anya’s face was enough for Buffy to know that Anya would do a good job in her new position, even though she was still concerned about Liz, the Slayer and Xander. Buffy knew that she would be able to take care of Liz. Buffy curtseyed to her new boss and smiled knowingly. Anya was going to do a fabulous job. With a small wave goodbye, Buffy returned home to New York to her waiting lover waiting for her. She knew he was worried about her. “D’Hoffryn is dead,” she stated simply. Truthfully, Spike didn’t know how to react to that kind of news. When she had disappeared at D’Hoffryn’s request he had the eerie feeling that something was up. A lone tear rolled down Buffy’s cheek for her boss, even though he had tried to kill her. He had been her father figure since she lost Giles to bigotry. He’d babysat Christopher when she sought out vengeance seekers. He’d looked out for her in all things since she was elevated. She had been his greatest creation since Anyanka. She was going to miss him. Buffy reached out to her mate for comfort and consolation, more tears threatening to spill over the edge. Spike pulled her close into his arms and soothed her soft sobs as the story of what had happened over the last few hours bubbled from her lips. His grip on his girl tightened as she related how she was going to be the sacrifice for the wish Anyanka had wanted to take back, then his grip softened as he listened to how the old grey wanker died at the hands of the curse that protected Buffy for all time. He was grateful for Reagan’s meddling in witchcraft in that moment. “Don’t be mad, Spike,” Buffy begged. “He was like a father to me. He took care of Christopher. Anya’s the Mistress of Arashamahar now. She’ll do a great job at it, I know it.” “If you say so, love,” soothed Spike, rocking her gently in his arms. He was more concerned that the change in power in Arashmahar meant in the great scheme of things. How would this translated to problems for the Slayer and the First Evil coming to rise again? After Buffy’s safety he thought about his other girls. Dawn and Liz. Now that Liz had somewhat accepted that Buffy was who she said she was, he had hope that someday, someday soon, the two grandparental demons would be welcomed back in Sunnydale to help with the do gooding. It was a small hope. Buffy liked to think of him as still an evil vampire, but he knew better. His time with Liz had changed him. He was still bagging it, still had the chip in his head, though Buffy would remove it if he wished it, but he didn’t plan on that changing anytime soon. Erixel, his mate, the woman that had his heart, was evil. He accepted that. She’d been pure once, and misuse and deceit had made her what she was now. His nights were spent in idle waste of the hours he had to be apart from her as she sought out vengeance seekers, when he really wanted to dust vamps snacking on innocent children and demons trying to end the world. They were Buffy’s friends though. They had been his friends, or acquaintances once. Working with the Slayer had changed him. Liz had changed him. He hoped that if Buffy had the opportunity to work with the Slayer too that she would be changed too. It was an ironic wish. A wish he was careful to keep to himself. ___________________ Buffy looked up from the blood smattered mess of her latest victim to have Dawn’s voice echo in her head. Hastily she wiped her hands on a nearby towel and teleported to her New York apartment to clean herself up. It would never do to appear before her granddaughter with blood on her hands. Even if it was the blood of a man who assaulted his daughter over the past four years. They wouldn’t understand. With clean hands, Buffy teleported to Dawn’s location. She was expecting Dawn to be in need of her attention, to miss her or something, certainly not what she discovered. Buffy appeared before Dawn to see that the teen was not alone. Surrounding her was not only Liz and her ‘Scooby’ friends, but another man she had never met in her life, but instinctively knew who he was. This was Liz’s watcher, the descendent of her own watcher and Miranda Travers. This was Rupert Giles. “Ooh, ambush?” quipped Buffy. “No!” the teen exclaimed. “Giles wanted to meet you. That’s all,” protested Dawn. “Oh, ok then, so not ambush. No one expects the Spanish inquisition,” Buffy laughed to herself, knowing that the children wouldn’t get the British pop culture reference. Giles did though, letting out a little laugh. “Oh good, you aren’t as fuddy duddy as I thought you would be,” Buffy praised. “Thank you, I suppose,” answered the watcher before clearing his thoat. “I had asked Dawn to summon you so that I might meet the demon with whom Dawn is so enraptured.” “She sees good in people that don’t have much good left in them,” offered Buffy with a shrug. “Look, I didn’t come here to talk about my past again for the umpteenth time, ok? If you want proof you are going to have to find your own. I’ve laid my life bare enough times since last January.” Giles nodded. “I am convinced of Liz and Dawn’s belief in just who you are. I trust my Slayer and her instincts.” “Well you didn’t get that from my Giles, that must be a Travers quality...” Buffy muttered. Dawn snorted. “G-man is related to Travers of the ‘All Powerful Council, Kill Liz’ clan?” laughed Xander Harris. Buffy glared at the man evilly. She would never forgive him what he did to Anya. Giles glared at the young man for good measure too. Giles cleared his throat once again and turned back towards Buffy. “I had hoped to glean from you information about the evil Liz is facing. The evil that seems to be killing off all the potential slayers that are on the face of the earth?” Buffy nodded. “The First Evil. Not much to tell. Just what every demon knows. The Council probably has books enough to satisfy your curiosity for knowledge.” “They blew up the Council,” added Dawn. Buffy opened her mouth in shock. “Ya, that’s what I said too, or you know, not said,” said Liz. “It’s...it’s gone?” asked Buffy in shock. “The entire building? The library? The training rooms? The place where...” Buffy trailed off. Liz nodded along with all of Buffy’s exclamations. “Oh Anyanka,” Buffy swore, her choice of demon to swear to throwing the assembled people for a loop. “What does Anya have to do with it?” asked the red headed witch. “Nothing,” answered Buffy truthfully. “Tell me what has happened since the Council blew up? Are the Council members ok?” asked Buffy. Giles shook his head sadly. “I can’t tell that any of the London based watchers escaped the fate of the First and its minions. There have been a few...” Buffy nodded. Her thoughts immediately went to Reagan’s brood. They must be still watchers. Chances are she would never be reacquainted with the Wyndham-Prices. “And all the potential Slayers?” asked Buffy. “I am rounding them up, some are here. They are hunted, even now...” “I’d help...” started Buffy, even formulating the ‘I’m evil’ excuse she had planned to give in this instance. “Please?” asked Liz, her eyes wide. “You’re a Slayer, I could really use a little Slayer type help here. Soon this house is going to be flooded with Slayer wannabes. I don’t think I can do this alone.” “You won’t be alone, Liz,” Buffy answered. “You have your friends and your watcher. What would you do with a demon like me in your house? Send the little baby slayers out to try to kill me?” “Actually I thought that’s what I’d use Spike for,” laughed Liz. Buffy gave her a ‘that’s not funny’ look. Even so, the boy was laughing hysterically. “Xander, I do wish you’d be quiet,” started Giles, catching himself and his mistake too late. Buffy shifted into demonic guise and grinned evilly. “Wish granted,” she intoned. Suddenly, Xander Harris didn’t have a mouth. The rest of the group stood in shock. With a puff of smoke there was another added to their group as Anya appeared in their midst. Her cackling echoed throughout the room. “Oh this is wonderful!” she laughed manically. “Xander, you’ve never looked better! I told you karma is a pain in the butt.” Xander moaned as only he could with no mouth. “Rixy I love you!” babbled Anya through her laughter. “Uh...Happy birthday?” offered Buffy. “It was too good to let go, this is the first vengeance wish that anyone’s been able to cast on him.” Anya nodded wisely. “So how do you like that, Xander Harris?” taunted Anya, her hands on her hips. “I’ve got the whole demon population eager to make me happy in anyway possible, and you suffering, that makes me happy.” “And sometimes I wonder if you are really over a thousand years old,” muttered Giles. “Some of us never lose our youthful exuberance,” explained Anya. “Besides he totally deserves it.” “Undo it,” ordered Giles, acting very tired. Buffy crossed her arms and refused to do it. Xander Harris deserved what he got. Unfortunately for all her strict stance on wishes cast, Buffy ultimately wasn’t the one in charge anymore. Anya was. “Fine, it’s undone,” stated Anya with a flick of her wrist. “Don’t you cross me, Xander. There might be a time when I’m not in such a good mood.” And with that Anya disappeared in a puff of smoke. While Xander used his newly freed mouth to protest his misuse, Buffy muttered to herself at her friend’s all powerful wish reversal. “He damn well deserves it, and she has to go a forgive him. She’s lost her touch,” Buffy muttered. “Xander, do shut up!” barked Giles. “This is what got you in trouble in the first place.” The whole congregation stared at Giles for a moment, who simply ignored them. “I believe your experience and knowledge will be most invaluable,” continued Giles, to Buffy. “Please consider the proposal.” Buffy nodded seriously at the watcher. “I’ll think about it. I have to talk to Spike about it,” Buffy added. “He’ll say yes,” said Dawn eagerly. “Even if he knows that he’s going to be used as a training dummy?” asked Buffy. With a devious smile, Dawn nodded back. ___________________ tbc...

Chapter #38 - Didn’t you see the Flash Cards?

Disclaimer: Joss owns ‘em, not me. Author’s note: Dialogue from ‘First Date’ Thanks and Hugs once again to the wonderful BTL for the betaing and to everyone who’s been reading and reviewing, you guys rock my socks. _________________ Chapter 38: Didn’t you see the Flash Cards? Buffy popped back into her New York apartment wondering just how to approach the subject of helping Liz. She knew that Dawn had been right, that Spike would jump at the chance to go back to Sunnydale all accepted like. But Buffy didn’t want Spike to be the token vampire that got chased by little potential slayers. She didn’t want him to be taken for granted again. She was protective of her mate. Spike was sitting in front of the TV watching some stupid infomercial about a random kitchen appliance that cooked anything as she walked in. She stepped towards him, and planted herself in front of the TV, blocking his view. “Do you wanna go back to Sunnydale?” she asked. “You know, like full time? Help out with the slaying?” Spike perked up his eyebrow questioning this turn of conversation. “Since when do you want to help out with the slaying? You haven’t slayed a vampire since 1880.” Buffy let out a sigh and with it the worry she had been holding back flood her body. “Since Liz asked. This First Evil thing has got them way spooked. I can’t just leave it to chance that everything’s gonna be ok this time, Spike. And are you saying I can’t slay vampires?” She asked as his words sunk in. “I’m saying you are out of practice luv,” he started. “Well,” she said standing up, her hands on her hips, “watch me prove you wrong!” He flashed a leer at her, curling his tongue behind his teeth. “You do that luv. Ahhhhh!” Spike’s hand went to his head as he screamed in pain. “Spike?” Buffy questioned, watching her lover in pain. “Spike!” _________________ She had moved Spike to the bed, moistening his forehead with a towel as he lay waiting for the chip to go off in yet another searing onslaught of pain. “Wish it out,” she begged him. “Please Spike, wish it out. It’ll kill you.” “Already dead love,” he whispered, reaching up to take the towel from her hands. “I can’t stand to see you in pain,” Buffy whimpered. “I doubt it’ll be pleasant to watch luv, maybe you should go,” he said sadly. Buffy stood up. He couldn’t be suggesting what she thought he was suggesting. “So that’s it then? You are giving up, prepared to live the rest of your unlife in pain and torment? Spike! Think about that. You can’t live your life like this! And even if you did, I’m not leaving you! Please, wish it out!” she pleaded, on the verge of tears. “I can’t,” he moaned and shut his eyes; he couldn‘t stand to see her cry. “Why the bloody hell not?” she screamed. “And don’t you dare tell me you deserve it because of all your vampire type activities over the years. Don’t start acting all soulful on me!” She stepped away from him and started pacing. “Dawn won’t trust me without the chip! I won’t have it removed!” “Dawn loves you! Don’t put so little faith in her!” “Liz has too much influence in her life. It’s Liz that won’t be able to accept it. You can bet our invitation to join the Scooby ranks will be revoked the instant Liz finds out,” he explained, his voice holding just an edge of bitterness. “She doesn’t have to know!” “It’s not how that works, Buffy and you know it.” Spike started groaning and trashing on the bed as he was zapped by the chip yet again. _________________ As the sun rose over the New York cityscape, Spike had finally passed out from the pain. Buffy had refused to leave him all night long. Now as he had finally reached some moment of peace Buffy stood from the edge of their bed and opened a portal. Stepping through to Arashamahar she made her way straight to Anya’s throne room. “I need a wish,” started Buffy. “What no proper ritual?” asked Anya looking up from her copy of Cosmo. “No, don’t have time,” stated Buffy simply. “Calling in a best friend favour here.” Anya nodded. “Fire away.” “I wish the microchip in Spike’s head removed.” Anya shifted into demonic guise. “Wish granted.” Then shifting back into her human face she opened her magazine again. “You know, the Slayer isn’t going to like this at all.” “You won’t tell her?” asked Buffy. “Please? Or Spike?” “Rixy?” “Please, Anya. Please don’t tell them or anyone. They have to believe that he’s still got the chip.” The two looked each other in the eye for a moment, Buffy begging Anya to see how important this was. “Fine,” noted Anya turning her attention to the magazine again. “Thank you Anyanka,” Buffy whispered into the cavernous room that her son once played in, before opening a portal back to New York. Spike was still asleep as she arrived. The question of how he’d react, how he’d find out, and whether or not she should tell him. She wanted no secrets between them. But this one was for his own good. This one was so that she wouldn’t have to, someday put him out of his misery. This one would keep them together. Right? _________________ Buffy and Spike stood in the middle of Liz’s living room, being stared down by scads of potential slayers, Willow the witch, Rupert the watcher and Xander the moron of the ‘famous leaving at the altar, but Anya still likes him,’ kind. Stupid head. “So Erixel is a vengeance demon?” asked a potential. “Uh, if we are going to be friends in the slaying of evil, maybe you can call me Buffy?” There was silence, either a reaction to her name or something else. “Yay?” offered Dawn from the back of the crowd. “Come on people, another slayer, joining the ranks here! God! Could you be more dour?” The whole group turned to look at Dawn. “Dour?” questioned Liz. “You really have been hanging around British people too much.” Buffy laughed, breaking the tension in the room. The potentials started to giggle, followed by Willow and Xander then by the watcher. Spike just stood there and glared. “Where are they going to sleep?” asked a potential that hadn’t been introduced yet. “That is a good question, Liz,” commented Giles. “We don’t need to sleep here,” offered Buffy. “I’m sure it’s crowded enough around here,” said Buffy eyeing the sleeping bags rolled up in the corners of the room. “No, I need you here. What if something happens in the middle of the night?” asked Liz. “We don’t sleep during the night, Liz,” responded Buffy. “Uh, vampire, creature of the night? Ringing any bells?” “How could we forget, with the bags of blood now cluttering the fridge,” piped up Xander. “There isn’t room for all of Andrew’s hot pockets now. I haven’t heard enough of his whining lately.” “Hey!” whined a blond male sitting in the midst of the potential slayers. Obviously this Andrew person. “So aside from the whole, nowhere to sleep, everyone’s good right?” asked Dawn, completely ignoring Andrew. “Yep, until the horror of dateville approaches,“ snickered Willow. “Oh, Principal Wood,“ the witch carried on in a breathy voice, looking at Liz. Both Buffy and Spike caught Liz‘s reaction to the look. It was a combination of a blush and a glare at her best friend. Buffy felt the wave of concern, not jealousy, that emanated from her link with Spike. And it made her smile. The potentials started to giggle as Liz turned redder. “Liz has a date with the principal tonight,” explained Dawn, as if it went totally over their heads. “Or he’s a demon trying to kill her,” added Xander. “’Course the same thing is probably going to happen to you tonight, Xander,” added Dawn. “Arrived on the wrong day then did we?” asked Spike with a smirk. “No problem, got mates to look up and all that.” “We can set you two up in the basement, if that’s ok,” Liz suggested with a hopeful smile. “I have to get ready for my date/demon encounter group.” The living room interrupted into talking, everyone assuming that the meeting was over. Dawn rushed over to Buffy and gave her a big hug. “Thanks for coming! I'll get you two set up in the basement, you won’t even notice the dank. Really. I’m so happy you are here!” Dawn stepped back from the hug only to give Spike a big hug too. “So Liz is going on a date, huh?” asked Buffy curiously, watching out of the corner of her eye as Liz ascended the stairs “Yep, and she’s all nervous about it. She hasn’t even thought about anyone in that way since...” Dawn stopped short, her gaze turning to Spike once again. “I’m pulling for her. Really I am. Liz needs to move on.” Leaving Dawn and Spike to talk about sleeping arrangements, Buffy ascended the stairs. Buffy stopped suddenly in the upstairs hallway Buffy as she heard a familiar voice. She paused outside the bathroom door, surprised to find Anya standing in the loo with Liz. “I don't think it's really a date. That's what I think,” said Anya holding a blouse and scrubbing at a stain. When had Anya come into the house? Buffy asked herself. And why is she doing laundry, doesn’t she have minions to do that kind of thing? “Well, it is unclear. That's why I chose a top that says, you know, I'm comfortable in a stodgy office or a swinging casual setting... or killing you, you know, if you're an evil demon,” responded Liz. “It also says I sometimes get blood on my shoulder,” said Anya looking at the stain. “Or it might be pizza.” Anya handed off the shirt to Liz and made eye contact with Buffy in the hallway. “I don't think I can fix it.” Liz looked down at the shirt in her hand and stepped back. “Thanks for trying.” “And I wasn't talking about your date anyway. I was talking about this sham date of Xander's. I think it's part of a plan to make me jealous,” Anya began to rant. “Well, it's not working,” interrupted Buffy from the hallway. “Are you nuts? Of course it's working. Observe my-my bitter ranting. Hear the shrill edge of hysteria in my voice,” continued Anya. “Um, I should really go find something else to wear,” stated Liz walking out of the bathroom. “Fine, go. Leave me here to stew in my impotent rage,” chastised Anya. Liz stopped just as she passed Buffy, and turned to look at the Mistress of Arashamahar. “I'm also gonna pee, so you should probably go,” added Anya. Liz continued on down the hall to her room. Buffy turned to her friend and raised an eyebrow. “You have to pee?” asked Buffy. “And since when did you arrive in the house?” “Yes, I have to pee, demon’s pee! You know that! And I’ve been in with the Slayer and her gang since long before you were! It’s perfectly understandable if I pop in from time to time to chat and use the facilities. Have you been in the washroom of Sunnydale’s McDonald’s? Ewwww.” Buffy chuckled at her friend. “Fair enough. But then you could pop in to use the bathroom at Harrod’s too, that’s much nicer. I’ll meet you downstairs.” She turned away from the bathroom door to be faced with Liz and Spike’s very awkward conversation. “You look nice,” he stated as Liz covered herself with the stained blouse. “Oh, thanks,” the Slayer said nervously, looking down. “Uh, traditionally, one wears something over this.” “Heard you got a date.” “Well, it's unclear. I mean, I have this whole theory about a promotion. Or he's evil.” “Liz, good luck,“ Spike said quickly. “You don't have to...” trailed off Liz. “Huh?” “Good luck, hope he’s the guy for you, and all that rot,” Spike explained. “Uh...I should go, get ready,” stammered Liz. “I don’t wanna be late.” Liz walked down the hallway past Spike and into her room. “That was well done,” said Buffy softly, leaning against the hall wall. Spike walked the few steps towards his mate and captured her lips with his own. “Let’s go check out our new digs,” he said quietly. _________________ Buffy and Spike came up from their basement room, having set up house in the dark underground to their satisfaction to find a group conversation about the date Liz was on happening in the dining room. The witch was sitting at the dining room table, with a laptop open before her. Dawn and two potentials were crowded around her looking at the screen. “Nothing? No records or certificates? College transcripts?” asked Dawn shocked. “Looks like the only stuff in the system about Principal Robin Wood is super-recent. Like, since he moved to Sunnydale,” added a potential whom Buffy had conveniently forgotten her name. “I've Googled 'til I just can't Google no more. He's not in there,” explained the exasperated witch. “Well, that's suspicious,” added another potential that Buffy knew she wasn‘t going to like, ever. The whole group turned as Anya made an loud entrance into the room, carrying a stack of papers, followed by the watcher. “Anya, calm down. They're educational...” Rupert trailed off. Anya handed the papers to Buffy, who flipped through them with an amused look on her face. She handed them to Spike, who chuckled at the artistry, who handed them to Willow. “What's this?” asked Willow as she flipped though them, a shocked look on her face as she did so. “Giles made them for Chao-Ahn, and now she's locked herself in the bathroom. There's other girls upstairs, and they're starting to complain,” explained Anya. “Those are flashcards. I-I made them to facilitate her training. Chao-Ahn never had a watcher. The language problem...” Giles tried explaining. “You showed her these?” asked an incredulous Willow. “I wanted her to understand the seriousness of her situation.” “Holy crap!” exclaimed Dawn. Dawn held up one of the pages labelled "Turok-Han" that showed a particularly graphic depiction of a Turok Han and its victim, ripped apart at the waist. “Perhaps I'll rethink the approach,” conceded Giles. “In the meanwhile, wanna help us get researchy? We're trying to invade Liz's date's privacy,” asked Willow to the assembled group. “So Liz has decided that is it in fact a date?” asked Giles. “Yes... Didn't you hear? Everybody has a date. Liz has a date. Willow's been completely making out with this girl...” rambled Anya. “Hey!” exclaimed the potential. “Xander's out with some hardware-store-whore. It's Date Fest 2003,” said Anya finally sitting. Buffy reached over and patted her friend‘s shoulder in sympathy. “Actually, Liz's investigating Principal Wood. It's not a date,” observed Willow. “Really,” asked Giles uncertain. “Might be a date,” added Willow. “For God's sake! How can anyone think about their social life? We are about to fight the original primal evil. These girls are in mortal danger. Didn't you see the flashcards? This isn't right!” _________________ tbc...

Chapter #39 - Date Fest 2003

Disclaimer: Joss owns all, I just play with his toys. Author’s note: Some dialogue taken from ‘First Date’ Another chapter wonderfully beta’d by the fab BTL. *huggles* _________________________ Chapter 39: Date Fest 2003 “Do you think we should socialize?“ asked Buffy, as she lay naked on Spike’s bare chest. There was movement up on the main floor. How could there not be? After all, the house was teeming with potential slayers, and various company. A witch, a watcher, some kid that Buffy didn’t really understand why he was there, a mystical key, and occasionally, the most powerful vengeance demon alive. It was the last one that was perplexing Buffy. Why would Anya choose to hang with Liz and people when she had a realm to rule? Buffy stretched out, raking her nails across Spike’s arm. She and her vampire had decided to christen their newest living quarters instead of palling it up with the potentials while the Slayer was out and about. But it was night time now, and Buffy couldn’t think of a reason, besides the very yummy one she was lying on, to stay in bed. “Best get dressed luv, I don’t think we can hide down here for much longer without showing our faces to the masses.“ “Ugh,” muttered Buffy, rolling over to find something to throw on her naked body. “But staying with you is so much more fun than the nasty looks this Rupert Giles is going to give me, or the witch...” _________________________ Within ten minutes though, Spike had forced her up out of bed and into the main part of the house. Spike and Buffy entered the living room and right into an encounter group, with Dawn peeling tape off of the boy’s chest, Anya, Giles, Willow and a couple of potentials watching. “So, we're thinking it didn't go too well,” observed Willow. Buffy looked from the witch to Dawn and the boy curiously. Dawn was peeling tape off the boy’s chest tortuously slow. “You should've let me do this fast,” commented Dawn, still pulling the tape with excruciating slowness. “No, no, no,” said the boy, his voice hitching at each tug of his invisible chest hair. “I hate that. Ow.” “What happened?” asked Buffy finally wondering why there was tape and why Dawn was so close to the moronic boy’s chest. Willow explained, while Buffy’s eyes were riveted to Dawn and this Andrew person. For some reason she wanted to know what his intentions towards Dawn were. The odd idea passed through her brain that he should ask Spike’s permission to court his granddaughter. “You tried to record the ultimate evil?” asked Spike aghast, once the explanation was over. “Why? In a complex effort to royally piss it off?” “Guess we succeeded pretty good, huh?” retorted the potential Buffy really didn’t like. “God, I never should have gone in wired,” piped up Andrew. His voice turned whiny though as he continued. “Redemption is hard.” “Getting back to Spike's question,” asked Giles. “Why did you try to summon it?” “To study it,” started Willow. “To see if we could figure something out from what it was saying. Because, guys, we have to face it, we know nothing about the First.” Andrew’s moans and shrieks of pain filled the room. “Well, we know not to record it. That's something,” added Anya. “Why are you here?” asked Buffy of her friend quietly. “It’s interesting here. And there’s the chance I can annoy Xander,” muttered Anya. “Arashamahar practically runs itself.” “Why did it appear to this one, then?” Spike said pointing to Andrew. “I’m its toy, its action figure of destruction,” he muttered in pain as Dawn pulled off the last piece of tape. “Ow. I'm frightened. And my chest hurts where the tape was.” “It's okay, Andrew,” Dawn soothed. “You did good. You stood up to it. That's really amazing.” Andrew looked up at Dawn with big grateful eyes. “Thank you. You're a peach.” “Yeah. What did it want you to do, anyway?” asked Anya. “Shoot all the girls,” stated Andrew factually. Buffy winced. That wasn’t going to go over well at all. “Shoot girls?” asked Dawn worried. “Not you, just the potentials,” said Andrew as if it was a saving grace, Dawn looked relieved. Buffy was relieved, and yet still wanted to yank Andrew away from Dawn by the ear. She looked over at her mate and realised that they were sharing the same feelings about the boy. “Oh, well that's something, anyway,” started Dawn. “ Something tragic,” she added, as the potentials looked at her funny. Giles, impervious to the tension, pushed on. “This proves my point. This time is crucial. We should be circling the wagons instead of doing things like going out on dates when... when gunplay is imminent. Willow, call Buffy. Get her back here. We need to dispose of the gun and...and figure out our next move.” “I'll go get her,” offered Spike. “I'll call,” Willow piped up interrupting Spike supposed exit from the house to get Liz. In the background a cell phone rang. “Bet that's her. Sometimes when you're thinking about calling someone...” said a potential. Willow had pulled out her cell phone. “No, it's a text message. Oh, it's from Xander. It's one of our signals.” “Signals?” asked the potential. “Yeah, the system we set up a while back. Like codes. Uh, this one's either ‘I just got lucky, don't call me for a while‘ or ‘my date's a demon who's trying to kill me,’“ explained Willow. “You don't remember which?” asked the nasty potential. “It was a long time ago!” Willow protested. “Well, if we play the percentages...” added Dawn, looking with a smug face towards Anya. “Something's eating Xander's head,” observed Giles with a sigh. “Say, that's gratifying,” Anya remarked, beaming happily. “You know something could have eaten his head a long time ago if you wanted it to,“ added Buffy questioning her friend’s comment. “Liz will know what to do,” added Andrew. “I'll go get her,” Spike said again, turning to go. “That’s ok. I’ll call!” said Willow, stopping Spike’s progress again. “We have embraced the technological age you know. We don't even know where she went.” Willow punched in Liz’s number and a ringing sound filled the room. Willow turned around to see Liz’s cell phone on the table next to her. “That's not good.” “I'll go get Liz. I can probably still track her scent. She'll be worried about the boy,” said Spike firmly. He pressed a kiss to Buffy‘s lips and headed out the door. “Um, Spike?” called Buffy. “I can get you there faster.” “But we don’t know where she is,” stated Dawn. “Vengeance demons can see all those who seek retribution in their hearts,” intoned Anya. “Liz seeks vengeance,” added Buffy. “Is Xander seeking vengeance too?” asked Willow. “I could do a locator spell on him if he’s not.” “Xander doesn’t deserve to have vengeance exacted for him,” intoned Buffy. _________________________ Buffy and Spike stepped out through the portal and in front of a very quaint French restaurant in one of the nicer back alleys of Sunnydale. “I wonder if the waiters actually speak French here,” asked Buffy as Spike held open the door. “If they do they probably have a terrible accent,” added Spike, sounding much more refined than he usually did. Buffy giggled just as they walked to Liz‘s table. She was being hand fed dessert by a striking black man. “Mm. What are you doing here?” asked Liz, a glare slowly making its way on her face. Principal Wood looked from Liz to Buffy and back again. “Is there a problem?” “It's Xander,” stated Spike. Liz’s face instantly turned to worry. “Ah, are you two sisters?“ asked Principal. Buffy glared at the man as Liz excused herself. “I’ll drive,” offered Liz’s date. _________________________ Buffy and Spike sat calmly in the back seat, as Liz’s date kept casting glancing back into the back seat as if he was trying to figure out something. “You sure he's in the high school?” asked Liz. “Willow did a locator spell. Usual stuff,” explained Spike. “I'm not surprised. That school's at the centre of everything,” explained the principal. Liz sighed. The uncomfortableness of the situation was making conversation almost tortuous. “How much longer 'til we get there?” “Ten minutes,” responded the principal as he looked again into the rear view mirror, Buffy smiling back menacingly. “So, how do you two know each other?” he asked referring to Spike. “He works with me. Uh, you know, in the struggle against evil,” rushed Liz. “Mm. Cool. And you have a twin?” he asked. Liz looked out the window, ignoring the question. Buffy looked closely at this man driving them to the Hellmouth and smiled at just how much he sought vengeance. Too desperately she wanted to know just what his wish would be. But that wouldn’t go over well with Liz in the car at all. “You could say that,“ responded Buffy when Liz refused to answer at all. _________________________ Buffy followed Liz, Spike and the principal into the school’s basement, intent on watching the action but nothing more. Spike enjoyed the fighting much more than she did now a days. Maybe what he had said was true, that she wasn’t up to snuff on all the slayer type stuff. She certainly hadn’t actually fought anything since...well she couldn’t even remember. Buffy watched as the demon Xander Harris had been on a date with started strangling her mate. Buffy rolled her eyes. Couldn’t she tell that Spike was a vampire? As Spike shifted into his demonic face, the principal’s attention instantly went to Spike’s face. “He's a vampire,” stated the principal. Xander’s panicked wail alerted them all to the fact that his blood was about to open the seal beneath him and spurring the principal to action. Buffy stepped over to her mate, finally deciding that this demoness had had her hands on Spike’s body long enough. She picked up the girl and threw her from Spike, a combination of demon strength and her fun demon deflection thing. “Thanks luv,“ whispered Spike, brushing a kiss across Buffy’s cheek before he rushed back into the fray. He was making her all hot. He grabbed a sword that Buffy hadn’t noticed was there and sliced the demon’s head off. As the head fell, the demon’s body reverted into its true form. Ugly as all hell. Spike dropped the sword and turned to face his mate with a grin on his face. Buffy stepped closer towards him and jumped up into his arms, their lips locking. Eventually Buffy was conscious of the fact that she and Spike were very close to getting naked right there on the Hellmouth and that Xander, the principal and Liz were watching. Buffy jumped down from around Spike’s waist and blushed a little. Xander diverted his attention to Liz and the principal. “So, how's your date going?” Liz looked at the principal for a moment, who was still looking at Spike. “I’m thinking it could be better,“ muttered Buffy to her mate with a sarcastic smile. The look on Liz’s face confirmed Buffy’s comment. _________________________ Buffy and Spike walked hand in hand from the school basement, letting Liz and the principal take Xander back to Liz’s house. Buffy had had enough uncomfortableness for one night. “You don’t know him do you?“ she asked as they waved at the trio leaving in the principal’s car. “Don’t think so, why?“ Spike asked, bringing her hand to his lips. “He was just looking at you funny.“ “Jealous?“ Buffy laughed. “Hardly, it’s just not a happy friendly look he was giving you, and the need for vengeance coming off of him is intense.” “I don’t wanna talk about the principal, luv,” he purred, looking deep into her eyes. “There’s a basement all to ourselves on Revello Drive...” “Arashamahar is closer,” Buffy added. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #40 - Cake and Answers

_________________________ Chapter 40: Cake and Answers Anya, Buffy and Spike walked down a back alley, their steps not doing much to disturb the quiet street. “So you’re thinking that maybe I should take off the amulet to train these moronic potentials?“ asked Buffy, kicking a can. “I object, Liz was way out of line. No one should tell you when and where to take off your amulet. Well, except me, cause well, hey, I’m the boss of you! Why in the name of almighty Grothnar would you let yourself become human again?” “You're really asking the wrong crowd,” piped up Spike. “I mean, sure, the vengeance demon gig has some downsides...” continued Anya. “All jobs do,” added Spike. “But being human? Ugh! You're always icky on the inside, disgusting on the outside,” said Anya. The trio stopped in the street. “Your outside's not so bad,” Spike complimented. “Um, can I interject here? No flirting with Anya,” interrupted Buffy with a scowl. “You know, the only thing worse than being human is being trapped inside a house full of humans,” Anya said, ignoring Buffy. “Preaching to the choir, luv.” “I mean, it's like we live in slayer central. I swear, if Liz rooms or boards one more of the potential girls, I'm gonna call a - I'm gonna call a health inspector,” threatened Anya. “You don’t have to live there though. In fact, you don’t live there,” noted Buffy. “I like my plan better. Get up, get out, get drunk. Repeat as needed. It's just more elegant,” Spike said starting to walk again. “Am I even here?” asked Buffy. “Have I turned invisible? Why do you need to get drunk?” Suddenly a demon popped out of the shadows. “Mistress Anyanka,” it said, bowing low before Anya. He held out a piece of parchment. Anya took it from the demon and read it over, nodding several times. “Good, thank you. You can go.” As the demon headed for the shadows again, Buffy turned her head to look at her friend and boss again. “Weekly report,” she explained continuing to walk on. “I was wondering about that whole hanging out at Liz’s house and keeping Arashamahar running smoothly, thing.” “I’m keeping an eye out on Xander. I hate to admit it, but I really don’t want him dead. Shh! Don’t tell anyone. But now, you know, I’ve got every vengeance demon wanting to make me happy, cause I’ve got the power and the glory, yadda yadda yadda. Xander’s in danger, twenty-four, seven.” “I think you are being too easy on him,” piped up Buffy. “He deserves to suffer for what he did.” “But not to die,” noted Anya sadly. _________________________ Buffy sat in Liz’s living room impatiently waiting for the sun to set. Spike was asleep downstairs, dead to the world. It had been the pounding feet of the dozens of potentials that had woken her up from her semi peaceful sleep. Liz’s request, to be amulet free when she helped out with the training of the potentials, was on her mind. The last time she’d taken off her amulet, bad, bad things had happened. Ok, one good thing had happened, but she didn’t want to be vulnerable again. The door opened and Liz and the principal walked in. Buffy attempted to pay attention to her copy of Pride and Prejudice that she held in her hands. “So, all the potential slayers...who seem to keep popping up from, like, every corner of the earth ... were getting killed,” said Liz, ushering in the principal and shutting the door. “By the First?’ added the principal. “Agents of. We thought the Council could protect them, but, unfortunately, no one was protecting the Council, and all their watchers were killed. Word got out, and they've all been coming here since.” “Well, there's nothing like the end of the world to bring people together,” quipped the principal with a wry smile. “It's heart warming. Anyway, this is, uh, it,” Liz said, giving her hand a wave around. “Command central.” Over the top of her book Buffy watched Andrew storm into the room wearing a white apron and oven mitts. The little nerdy boy had been holed up in the kitchen since she woke up. “Where the hell have you been? This funnel cake is kicking my ass,” whined Andrew. “Yeah, I hear they're tricky,” observed the principal. “Robin Wood, this is...Andrew,” introduced Liz. They shook hands. “Andrew is our...actually, he's our hostage,” explained Liz. “I like to think of myself more as a guestage.” Robin Wood, thought Buffy. Why is that name familiar? “So, you... you hold him here against his will?” Robin asked. “Well, he was evil, and people got killed, and now he...bakes. It's a thing,” shrugged off Liz. “Could we try to just keep our secret headquarters a little bit secret? Keep bringing people in, they're gonna see everything. They'll see the big board,” whined Andrew. “Andrew, we don't have a big board,” Liz countered back, shaking her head in disbelief. Andrew turned to fetch something from behind the chair in which Buffy was sitting, bringing out a large white board covered in drawings and writing. “I, uh, made it myself.” Buffy rolled her eyes as Andrew explained the ’Big Board.’ She put down her book and shook her head at Andrew’s antics. “Hey,” greeted Buffy on her way passed Liz and Robin. “How was work?” Buffy interrupted Andrew’s explanation, earning her a whine. “Fine,” answered Liz. “What do you do?” asked Robin, who was looking at her with keen suspicion. “Uh, she’s a Slayer,” rushed Liz, forcing a smile on her face. “I thought there was only one. The Chosen One?” asked Robin. “I died,” interrupted Liz, rushing along with her explanation. “For a minute, but it was enough to activate the next slayer, so two slayers now.” Buffy smiled at Robin who was now eyeing her pendant. “Nice necklace, family heirloom?” he asked. “Kinda,” Buffy said, before excusing herself and heading down stairs to her lover’s side. The principal made her feel weird, like she knew him, sorta. Buffy snuggled into Spike’s side, her lover wrapping his arm around her. “The name Robin Wood, does it mean anything to you?” asked Buffy. “It’s floating around in my brain and I can’t place it.” “Nope,” he stated, placing a kiss on her head. “Gah, you are no help,“ she muttered. “Mmm, you smell good.“ Spike smirked as he covered her body with his. “Can we do this without too much screamin’?“ he asked. “Don’t want to bring the principal down here, find me shaggin my girl.“ “Don’t want an audience?“ Buffy pouted. Spike whipped the sheet off his body and pressed his hard cock into Buffy’s thigh, growling against her neck. “Mmm,” she moaned, her lips seeking out his. Unfortunately the basement door opened, forcing the two demons to get vertical and Spike covered up. Liz and Robin walked down the stairs in silence just as Spike sat down on the bed, now wearing his jeans. Buffy watched Robin’s face, still wondering just why his name was familiar in some way. “I hope we're not intruding,” stated Robin not even looking at either of them but the walls of the unfinished basement that surrounded them. “Ya, you could say that. Just what brings our good principal to this neck of the gloom?” Spike asked, leaning a little behind Buffy on the bed. “I'm showing him our operation. Us,” explained Liz “Fine by me,” Spike said, nodding. “Big fight against evil coming up. The more good guys we've got, the longer we'll all live.” “Is that what you are? A good guy?” Robin asked, still not looking at Spike or Buffy. “I haven't heard any complaints,” Spike said smugly. “Well, I have heard a few complaints over the years, but then I just killed whoever spoke up, and that was pretty much that.” Buffy laughed. “He's joking,” excused Liz. “No, he's not,” stated the principal, glaring at Spike. “No, I'm not. But...that's the old me I'm talking about.” “Why don't you tell me about that?” asked Robin. “Not much to tell. I've changed,” Spike answered, wrapping an arm around Buffy. “Oh, now that you have a chip.” “Yeah. That was a big deal. Been with me a while now,” stated Spike. “And how's that working out for you?” asked Robin. “Ugh!“ muttered Buffy, annoyed. “Enough. I want this to end. Just say it!“ ordered Buffy. “Huh?“ articulated Liz. “Robin Wood, familiar name. Yes, you, why are you so interested in Spike and his chip? Why do you keep looking at us strangely?“ asked Buffy. “I think we'd better get back upstairs,” suggested Liz. “No, I’d like the answer to Buffy’s question too,” added Spike. “Or how about a formal introduction of your twin?” asked Robin. “Buffy,“ said Buffy sticking out her hand to be shaken or kissed or something. Since Liz had said she was a slayer, Buffy thought it best to go with her real name, and not her demon name. Can never be too safe, right? Spike looked at her curiously. “Buffy?” asked Robin. “Isn’t that short for Elizabeth?” he asked curiously, looking from Liz to Buffy and back again. “Were your parents on something when they named you two?” Spike laughed. “Oh...uh...” stammered Liz. “No,” laughed Buffy, suspecting that Liz wanted to keep up this facade. “Elizabeth are our middle names, but our first names are so dull that...” “Right,” acknowledged Robin. “Anne,” supplied Liz. “Cecily,” echoed Buffy. “You can see why we’d want to use a different name.” “Absolutely,” agreed Robin still baffled but his face seemed only half believing. “Rixy!” came Anya’s voice from the top of the stairs. “Get your ass up here! The nerd boy made funnel cake!” At Robin’s continued weird look, Buffy continued. “I also go by Rixy. It’s a nickname that only Anya seems to call me,” she said covering. She could tell that the principal wasn’t entirely believing the story. After all, she wouldn’t believe the story if it was told to her either. Sure, he was in on the whole slayer thing, but was he ready for the truth? So few people are when you come right down to it. Buffy turned to Spike and smiled. “Mmm, funnel cake.” _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #41 - Talking, just talking

Disclaimer: I blame Kennedy on Joss. Author’s note: Some Dialogue from “Get it Done” and “Story Teller.” Beta’d by the wonderful Bloodytearsoflife. Thanks to everyone still reading! Your reviews make me happy! _________________________ Chapter 41:Talking, just talking “Is everyone here?” asked Liz, coming into the room, shovel in hand. Buffy looked around her and at everyone assembled in the living room of Liz’s house. Anya, Giles, Dawn, Willow, potentials, Xander, Spike, all waiting for Liz to say something appropriate to the situation of finding another dead potential. “All accounted for,” responded the potential Buffy didn‘t like, named Kennedy. “Anyone want to say a few words about Chloe?” asked Liz. She was met with silence. “Let me,” Liz started. “Chloe was an idiot. Chloe was stupid. She was weak. And anyone in a rush to be the next dead body I bury, it's easy. Just...think of Chloe, and do what she did. And I'll find room for you next to her and Annabelle. I'm the slayer. The one with the power. And the First has me using that power to dig our graves.’ Liz threw down the shovel in anger. “I've been carrying you... all of you ...too far, too long. Ride's over.” The Kennedy potential stood up, furious. “You're out of line!” “No, she's not,” responded Willow. “You're gonna let her talk to you like that? Willow, she's not even the most powerful one in this room. With you here, she's not close,” said Kennedy. “You're new here, and you're wrong. Because I use the power that I have. The rest of you are just waiting for me,” continued Liz. “Well, yeah, but only because you kinda told us to. You're our leader, Liz, as in "follow the,"“ added Xander. “Well, from now on, I'm your leader as in "do what I say."“ “Ja wohl! But let's not try to forget, we're also your friends,” continued Xander with a gentle smile. “I'm not,” piped up Anya. “Then why are you here? Palling around with Buffy and Spike, and eating Andrew’s funnel cake. What is it that you do?” asked Liz. “I provide much-needed... sarcasm,” explained Anya. Xander raised his hand. “Um, that would kinda be my job, actually.” “She’s my friend,” said Buffy seriously, giving Liz a look that meant business. “You're here because you're scared,” directed Liz at Anya, ignoring Buffy‘s look. “Same goes for everyone in this room,” added Xander. “Fine. Anya, all of you, be as scared as you'd like, just be useful while you're at it,” ordered Liz. “Come on, Liz. You know everyone here's doing everything they can,” interjected Willow. “Uh and for the record, I’m not scared,” said Buffy. “Me neither,” piped up Anya showing vengeance demon solidarity. Liz ignored them though. “The First isn't impressed. It already knows us. It knows what we can do, and it's laughing. You want to surprise the enemy? Surprise yourselves. Force yourself to do what can't be done, or else we are not an army... we're just a bunch of girls waiting to be picked off and buried.” From his spot in the crowd, Spike stood up and walked towards the door. “Where are you going?” asked Liz. “Out. Since I'm neither a girl, nor waiting. All this speechifying doesn't really apply to me, does it?” He reached out for Buffy’s hand. Buffy stood and stepped towards him, taking his hand. “I like the speech,” noted Buffy. “Very general like, please continue after I leave.” And with that they left the house. Out on the porch, she stopped Spike and licked his ear. “She gets that from me, you know. I doubt she writes poetry at all.” _________________________ Buffy and Spike returned to the house to find chaos in the living room. Robin, Xander, Willow, Kennedy and Anya were fighting off a demon. “Willow! Use your magic. Send him back!” barked Kennedy. “Um, trying. Redi...” The demon backhanded Willow, sending her tumbling to the other side of the room. Buffy rolled her eyes as everyone either cowered before the demon or was useless against it. “Weapons,” demanded Kennedy. Dawn handed Kennedy a sword, taking one for herself as well. The demon punched Kennedy just as Spike leapt onto the demon’s back. “Get out of here... all of you. Unless you want to end up all dead and useless,” said Spike, his voice heavy as he tried to keep the demon away from the girls. “What are you gonna do?” asked Kennedy from the couch. “What I do best,” he quipped. Unfortunately it was at that moment that the demon threw Spike through the ceiling. Buffy saw red. She walked up into the path of the demon and backhanded him across the face, sending him through the french doors of the living room. “You don’t touch my mate!“ shouted Buffy at the demon. He stalked towards her menacingly. Buffy repelled it without difficulty several times, then she reached out and snapped its neck and ripped the head clean off. “Whoa, she’s scary,” said Xander, when he could finally speak coherently. Willow sat up from where she’d been thrown. “Are you injured?” Dawn asked Kennedy. “Just hurt. Don't make a case out of it,” sniped Kennedy. She turned to Willow and Xander to ask if they were ok too. “I think we'll live,” noted Xander. Anya looked up at the ceiling. “Except maybe Spike, except he‘s already dead, so that hardly counts.” “Is getting thrown through the ceiling what he does best?” asked Kennedy. Buffy dropped the head of the demon as Dawn offered to go check on Spike and walked over to Kennedy. “You know what?” asked Buffy jovially. “I don’t like you, at all. So how about you keep your snide comments to yourself. Okay?” Kennedy looked at Buffy with fear for a moment before looking at Willow for back up. Willow shook her head indicating that she wasn’t getting into it with Buffy. Kennedy was on her own. “I liked the white witch at lot better, step down with this one, hmm, Willow?” noted Buffy stepping away from Kennedy. “We’ve gotta get Liz back. Looks like it's spell'o'clock,” noted Xander. “Which spell? I mean, didn't you see that thing? And you expect to reopen the portal without sending Willow off the deep end?” asked Anya. “Thanks for your support,” noted Willow with a glare. “Well, it's true. We're going to have to find another way,” observed Anya. Willow shook her head. “There isn't, and Liz knew it. I've got to get her back.” “We don't even know where she went,” said Kennedy glaring at Anya and cutting right to the heart of the matter. If Buffy knew where Liz was, what dimension, then hop, skip and a jump either she or Anya could retrieve her. “What are you?“ asked Robin finally piping up. “A slayer,“ muttered Buffy looking him in the eye. Then, turning her back towards Robin, she headed up the stairs after Dawn. “Oh, she’s a vengeance demon too,“ Buffy heard Kennedy say bitterly. Crap! _________________________ Buffy petted Spike’s hair as he reclined on their bed in the basement. Going through a ceiling took a lot out of anyone really. “I think I might have granted Robin Wood’s wish, when he was a child. I just wish I remembered what it was,” said Buffy softly. The basement door opened and Anya stuck her head in for a moment. “Wish granted,” she chimed. Suddenly, Buffy knew exactly which wish it was. Her eyes went wide and she looked down at Spike. “Bloody buggering hell,” she muttered. “What?” he asked sitting up. “What wish was it?” “He wanted the mission over. His mother was a slayer. The wish, New York...” “New York...Niki Wood? His mum?” asked Spike concerned. “Shit,” muttered Buffy. _________________________ When Liz returned to her dimension, the world somewhat returned to normal. Somewhat. Kennedy refused to be in the same room with Buffy. Buffy was fine with that. More than fine. Kennedy was vile. Kennedy was in the Miranda and Felicity Travers category of vile. Huh, maybe they are related? Everyone seems to be related to everyone else around here. What she had told Liz was true. Buffy wasn’t scared of the First. Not by half. There were two beings that featured most prominently in her nightmares that were much more scary. The Immortal and Drusilla. She expected everyday to be confronted by the Immortal as she walked down the streets of Sunnydale. Fear of having Liz and Dawn found out was above all things the most prominent in her mind. Drusilla on the other hand, she wasn’t dead; she wasn’t a vampire either. But she lived and so she was still an obstacle. Buffy just hoped that Angelus kept her on a short leash. Buffy walked up into the kitchen for juice and into the chaos that was the morning routine of 1630 Revello Drive, Spike following behind for blood before turning in for the day. “Look at this place. Damn girls dorm’s what it is,” he muttered as he lit up right in the middle of the kitchen. “That’s nice. Second-hand stinkiness,” countered Dawn, wrinkling up her nose. Then Liz entered, moving her way around through the crowd, pouring herself some cereal and finding the milk. “It’s a full house. I think it’s a good time to do some introductions, don’t you, gentle viewers?” said Andrew looking into his video camera. “I’m Amanda and I grew up right here...” started a potential. Buffy snorted into her juice. “Not you, sweetheart. Let’s start from the top,” continued Andrew. Andrew pointed the camera at Liz. “You’ve already met Liz. She’s beautiful, with a lion’s heart and the face of an angel. She’s never afraid because she knows her side will always win.” Buffy watched as the camera was now pointed at Spike, sipping his morning blood. “Liz and Spike have some kind of history. You can feel the heat between them although, technically as a vampire, he’s room-temperature.” Buffy cleared her throat. “Uh, yes, which brings us to Buffy,” continued Andrew, pointing the camera at her. Buffy rolled her eyes. “Buffy, amour of Spike, and practically Liz’s twin, but not. Her mysterious past is only more complicated than that of her best friend, Anya.” Andrew panned the camera around to face Anya. “A feisty waif with a fiery temper and a vulnerable heart that she hides even from herself. And this lovely girl. ... I don’t remember her name. Back to reality.” “Oh, for god’s sake. Is he doing that again? Can’t we make him stop?” asked Liz annoyed. “I don’t know…” started a potential. “If we save the world, it will be kind of nice to have a record of it.” “And if we don’t save the world, then… nothing matters.” continued another potential. “Hmm… that’s catchy, Amanda. Let’s make that our slogan..“ piped up Kennedy. “Yeah, it is kind of strange how you keep saving the world and there’s not any proof,” observed Xander. “Yeah, you know, for future generations,” added Anya. “And it does help the girls with training, you know, viewing the tapes,” offered Willow. “Come on, no one else thinks this is idiotic?” asked Liz. Buffy raised her hand only to be ignored by most of the room. “Or is it important? I mean, Liz, I don’t get why this is bothering you so much,” continued Xander. “Because it’s a waste of time. Come on, someone has to agree with me on this. Spike?” asked Liz, looking for support. “Long as he’s not pointing that thing at me, seems like a fine way to keep the boy busy,” Spike said as he gulped down his last sip of blood. Spike put his glass in the sink and grabbed Buffy’s hand before retreating into the basement. Buffy could hear the wonderful tones of Liz’s voice preparing for a speech. She was thankful that she was escaping that torture. Spike settled down on the bed, and put his hands behind his head looking at his mate. “Are you happy here?” asked Buffy looking down at him. “I suppose so. Close to the Bit, blood in the fridge, got me friends around. Got you,” he said waggling his eyebrows. “Are you not happy?” Buffy looked down at the floor for a moment before she started to pace. “I feel all itchy. I haven’t granted a wish in at least a week. I haven’t felt this way since I was cooped up before Christopher’s birth. It’s like I’m being kept from what I was meant to do!” Spike chuckled. “Ya, I felt like that when this chip got put in my noggin. It gets better, if that’s any help.” “Not really.” “Maybe...” he started, serious like. “Maybe it’s not what you were meant to do. Slaying is what you were meant to do.” Buffy looked sharply at her mate. “I hate when you make sense. But I was a slayer for only a couple of years. I’ve been a vengeance demon much longer than that. It’s hard to change. Change is bad,” she pouted. Spike sat up and pulled his mate towards him. Putting her hands in his, she stepped towards the bed and sat down beside him. “I’m still not taking off the amulet,” she noted quietly. “She can’t make me.” _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #42 - The Truth

Disclaimer: I blame Kennedy on Joss. Author’s note: Some Dialogue from “Story Teller” _________________________ Chapter 42: The Truth Dawn thundered down the stairs. “You so have to come upstairs, they are interrogating the nerd! Should be exciting!“ she exclaimed, her gaze directed to the two beings lying on their cot in the Summers’ basement. Buffy just rolled her eyes. She’d had enough of the nerd. Andrew was annoying beyond all belief and she didn’t like the way he was making eyes at Dawn. But Spike got up. Only waiting for Dawn to go back up the stairs before pulling on his pants and shirt before heading up to the main level. Stretching out on the cot, Buffy wiggled her fingers. The training of the potentials, was dull. Buffy was fully convinced that they didn’t need her here at all. Spike was loving it though. She could see that. She was happy for him, that he was happy. She wasn’t though. The potentials, they were cannon fodder. There was no way that they’d ever make difference in the grand scheme of things. The fighting of the Turok Hans was bracing, yes, when ever she got into the fray, which admittedly was not often and only when Spike, Dawn or Liz were in danger. “Buffy!“ yelled Dawn from the stairs encouraging her to come up. Buffy exhaled loudly and sat up, looking for something to put on that was clean. She’d had to move most of her stuff into the basement, as Liz was worried that too many inter dimensional jumps would undermine the wards put on the house. Buffy didn’t believe that for a moment. Liz was afraid that her new demon fighter would find out that she was harbouring not only a vampire but also a vengeance demon. It was hard enough to keep Anya under wraps. Pulling on the closest thing, Buffy stumbled upstairs not happy with yet another day of pointlessness. In the living room Andrew was sitting on the sofa, everyone crowded around him. Willow was standing in front of him and Buffy could tell that there was a spell in the air, “I don’t want to do this anymore. Everyone’s staring at me,” Andrew whined. “Just focus on the charm,” ordered Willow. “You have to focus on the charm to pull the memories out.” “Tell us about the seal,” Robin intoned. Buffy’s head perked up at Robin’s voice. Fantastic. He’s here, again. “But it tickles and I’m all tense. Can’t I have a cool refreshing Zima?” asked the nerd. “No Zima!” shouted Liz. “Shut your face about the Zima. Just talk,” said Spike menacingly. “You were the first person to uncover it and feed it blood. How did you know it was there? How did you know what to do?” questioned Xander. Buffy looked over the proceedings with a sceptical eye, the witch’s power drawing her attention more than she liked. From across the room another set of eyes that was observing the scene before them cast a glance towards her, then to Spike. Robin Wood was suspicious. How could he not be? Buffy watched him out of the corner of her eye. He glared at Spike, hatred in his gaze. Yep, he’d found out just which vampire had killed his mother all right. He was observing her too though. Every once in a while a puzzled look crossed his face as his eye travelled from Liz to Buffy, confusion as he contemplated the two girls. He’d figure it out soon, Buffy concluded. Either someone will tell him that she wasn’t Liz’s twin sister or he’ll discover the secret on his own. She wasn’t looking forward to that at all. But it would break up the monotony of the boredom here. “We need to see that knife. There’s something there,” said Willow, as Buffy came back into the conversation. “Kennedy, search his stuff. Find the knife,” Liz ordered. “It’s not in my stuff. It’s in the kitchen, in the cutlery drawer. You didn’t have any steak knives,” complained Andrew. As the nasty potential left the room in search of the knife there were squeals from the remaining potentials. “You put your old murder weapon in with our utensils?” asked a shocked Willow. “I washed it,” said the nerd defensively. _________________________ “I’m bored,” Buffy complained to Anya. “I feel useless and well, bored.” Anya nodded and sipped her coffee. “I can see that. I was bored too when I was turned human. Of course I had to endure high school. That was no walk in the park let me tell you.” “I’m not human though, Anya, “ Buffy muttered, her voice low as to not attract attention in from the Espresso Pump patrons. “No, but everyone around you treats you like one. And they expect you to behave like one.” “But I’m bored!” whined Buffy. “I wanna answer calls for vengeance.” “No!” ordered Anya seriously. “Do you have any idea what that will do to Liz and Dawn?” “Oh, please. They knew what I am...” “Yes, they do. But they really don’t need the Immortal showing do they?” Buffy’s eyes went wide. “You’d forgotten about him...” “No, I’d though he’d forgotten about us.” “Nope. The only thing keeping him from discovering you’re secret is the fact that you haven’t granted any wishes in a while. If you want to keep them safe, no wishes for you.” “Well that’s not fair.” “But necessary. Find something else to do. You know, like train with the little slayer wannabes or you know, contribute? I’m doing a lecture on the ubervamps...it’s gonna be fun.” “I’m not taking off the pendant though,” said Buffy resolutely. “I don’t blame you...” Anya stirred her beverage a few times as the two vengeance demons sat in quiet silence. ”I slept with Xander.” Buffy did a double take. “When did this happen?” “Last night when they were all ‘Andrew fix the seal’ and you were all elsewhere with the brooding.” “I do not brood!” “Oh you do! It’s annoying and you’ve been no fun! I wanted to talk about me and Xander having sex on your bed in the basement and all you can talk about is how you are in denial about the brooding. Get over it! Embrace the slayerness. You were a Slayer once... I know that didn’t go so well for you. Maybe this time you won’t be the attempted murder victim.” “Here’s hoping.” _________________________ “Embrace the slayerness,” Anya had said. Buffy hoped that it would make life easier or more fun. She’d even go for less boring at this point. Straightening her shoulders Buffy walked through the front door of 1630 Revello Dr and into the living room expecting to find, Liz or Giles or Spike or someone to confess her new resolution. All she met was Wood. His face lit up as she entered. “Dawn told me that you’d taken the potentials out patrolling,” he started, casually sitting on the arm of the couch. “Nope. Not this time,” she said calmly, really not wanting to speak with him at all. Since Anya’s wish she’d been extremely uncomfortable around him. “Well that’s good then, I need to talk to you, about Spike,” he said gravely. “About Spike?” Buffy asked. “He’s a killer. Slayer of Slayers right? I told you that my mother was a Slayer in New York and you knew that Spike killed her didn’t you? How can you just let him live in this house? I don’t care if your sister is sleeping with him.” The pieces started to fall into place. “Well it took a while to put the pieces together,” Buffy answered truthfully. “I’m a little slow sometimes.” He glared back at her. “Look, it isn’t up to you to decide who is worthy to help the slayer out. Spike’s helping. He’s out there right now patrolling, what are you doing that’s helpful?” she continued. “Helpful? He’s here cause your sister’s got him by a short leash. He’s a dog with a choke chain on with that chip,” ranted the principal. “Chip shmip. He could be bad if he wanted to. He just got used to the whole good guys motto,” she continued on, strangely oblivious to the hatred that was bubbling inside the principal. “What?” Fortunately at that moment the front door opened and in streamed the potentials followed by Liz and Spike, freshly coated with some sort of demon goo. As they passed the potentials were all a buzz with their latest training session. Spike make short work of the distance between himself and his mate, and covered her mouth with his in a passionate kiss. Buffy smiled at his enthusiasm and allowed herself to be caught up in his strong arms. Suddenly she was being carried fireman style out of the living room and down the basement steps. She smiled coyly at Wood as understanding passed over his face. Down in the basement Buffy found herself thrown on the cot and peppered by Spike’s kisses. “I think someone’s all hot and bothered from fighting demons...” Buffy said into the darkness of the basement. “Bloody well got that right,” he said tearing her shirt off of her body revealing a red satin bra. She giggled happily. “I like it when you’re all possessive and growly.” Buffy bit down on his neck playfully making him deepen his growl. Pants were torn open and with little foreplay Spike was poised at her dripping entrance. With a slowness that was so unlike what had come before he entered her, inch by inch filling her to capacity. They lay there intertwined for a moment before the urge to move consumed them both. They began slowly, rocking against each other, battling for dominance, pelvises thrusting against the other. Spike slid his member out of her warm channel pumping in and out, even as they could hear the yelling from upstairs. His cock rubbed inside of her, bringing her nearer to completion. Buffy let her tongue lave a trail from his mouth to his neck and the marks she’d made on it, the marks that made him hers. And she bit down. “Mine,” she whispered, moaning in pleasure. Spike thrust deeper into her once more, then bringing his fangs out, he bit down deep into her skin. “Mine,” he replied, his seed flooding her insides as they both roared, making even the arguing demon hunters upstairs pause their fight. Spike gulped down her blood before sealing the wound closed and rolled off of her happily. “Really need a shower now,” he said softly. “I should be mad at you for getting me covered in demon goo,” Buffy replied. “I find, however, that I’m completely exhausted,” she continued batting her eyelashes. “Really?” he asked. “By Anyanka, no!” she said smiling. “But I think that if we did it again, there would be some very cutting remarks from everyone upstairs.” Spike nodded and listened to the argument that was resuming upstairs. Wood wasn’t happy about being tricked. “I need him here!” shouted Liz upstairs. “I don’t care about your vampire issues. I need every demon fighter I can get my hands on!” “He killed my mother!” Wood shouted at last, bringing the argument to an end. “Well that’s that then,” Spike noted, tightening his hold on Buffy’s body. “Seems like,” Buffy answered. “He just has to figure out who I am before he’s got everything sorted out.” “He was evil then!” came Dawn’s voice from upstairs. “He’s not evil anymore.” “Cause your sister has him wrapped around her little finger,” continued Robin. “Oh, Buffy’s more evil than Spike is,” added Kennedy. “Vengeance demon.” “I knew I didn’t like her,” said Buffy angrily from the basement. “Can I hit her?” Buffy asked her mate. “Be my guest, love.” With a smile Buffy threw on some non ripped clothes and marched up the basement steps. She stepped squarely up to Kennedy and punched her in the nose. “Being evil is fun.” _________________________ “Not that I don’t think she deserved it,” started Liz, over breakfast the next day, a very early breakfast, the only time people could get any alone time in that house. “But maybe it wasn’t a good idea to piss off the one potential who had rich parents. I can’t support this travelling circus for long, you know.” Buffy laughed. “You think I wouldn’t take care of my girls?” the vengeance demon asked. “I don’t know why you would,” confessed Liz. “Why didn’t you tell me that Spike killed Robin’s mom?” “We didn’t realise it until just recently. After that...just how were we suppose to go about telling you?” “Oh I don’t know, how about a, ‘hey Liz, Spike killed Robin’s mom’. Or maybe you could have written it down in your diary.” “It is written down in my diary. You just didn’t read that far ahead.” “It’s written in your diary? Why? Where you stalking Spike?” “Hardly. He was in New York, tracking the Slayer. I was in New York, granting wishes. I granted Robin’s wish. He was maybe four or five...” “He wished for his mom to be killed?” asked Liz incredulously. “Well no, not exactly. He wished for the mission to be over. There is only one way to have a slayer stop fulfilling her mission. Spike was the one to carry it out for me.” “Oh that’s classy. Blaming Robin for his mother’s death,” complained Liz. “I’m not blaming anyone. It was an ingenious wish. D’Hoffryn was very impressed with it. It’s too bad I didn’t like what it meant. Niki Wood was a slayer, like me. I’d never been the cause of a slayer’s death before.” “He’s not going to be happy about that,” continued Liz. “Robin, that is.” “Probably. Hence the punching of Kennedy. Are you sure that Willow...? Never mind, not my business.” “You aren’t going to take Spike and run away because of this?” Liz asked. “What part of taking care of my girls didn’t you understand?” Buffy retorted. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #43 - Back Together Again

Disclaimer: Joss said we could, right? Author’s note: Beta’d by the great and wonderful BTL. _________________________ Chapter 43: Back Together Again From that day forward Buffy tried to get more involved in the do gooding. She actually started to learn a few of the potential’s names too. Kennedy kept a wide berth around Buffy, rightly so. But Kennedy couldn’t do what she really wanted: leave, and pound the shit out of Buffy, not necessarily in that order. If she left the safety of Liz’s house the Bringers would get her. If she tried to take on Buffy, well, that wouldn’t really work with the demon strength and all. Robin hadn’t been around in a few days either, which was fine with Buffy too. Until the night he showed up after patrol and stopped her outside the house, a determined look on his face. Buffy looked with longing at the house, and it’s supposed sanctuary as Robin blocked her path. “I know who you are,” he stated bluntly. “Oh really?” asked Buffy trying to appear unconcerned. “Who am I?” “You’re her.” “Very articulate. Did they teach you that in principal’s school?” she said impolitely. “When I was four...you granted my wish,” he continued on, as if he hadn’t heard her at all. “I’ve been researching this vengeance demon thing, since Kennedy let it slip. I want a wish.” Buffy shook her head. “No.” “What do you mean no? You’re a vengeance demon, you grant wishes. I want a wish. I wish that William the Bloody and Erixel the vengeance demon had never existed,” he said petulantly. “No,” she said firmly, before walking into the house, leaving him on the lawn. She didn’t get far before he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to face him. “I wish it!” he shouted, drawing the attention of the Scoobies and assorted potentials in the house. “Too bad!” she shouted back, wrenching her arm away from him. “You got your wish. I’m not in the habit of giving second wishes to my clients, unless they deserve it.” “I don’t deserve it? You killed my mother!” “Correction, Spike killed your mother. I just gave him the opportunity. Your wish has been granted. Trouble me no more,” she said, concluding the discussion in her most vengeance demon like voice and walking into the house, an irate Robin following after her. Buffy stepped over the threshold trying to block out Robin’s furious rant behind her and into Anya’s personal space, who had been hovering near the door like so many of the potentials. Dawn and Andrew were trying to get a better look at what was happening out on the front lawn. Suddenly a thought occurred to her. Buffy knelt down in front of her boss and gazed at the ground. “Blessèd be the name of Anyanka. I come in supplication. I bend as the reed in the flow of the rippling wave of vengeance. I come in the name of vengeance to call upon its mistress. Blessèd be the name of Anyanka, the name whispered in the name of revenge, vendetta, justice, retribution, vengeance.” Anya giggled. “Ooh! Wish denied, but really, nice touch,” laughed Anya. “Anya! You haven’t even heard what I wish!” Buffy whined, standing up again. “But I can tell. Of course now everyone knows...I’d been so good keeping it a secret,” added Anya with a pout. “Secret?” piped up Xander. “Secret?” added Willow. “That she’s the mistress of Arashamahar and the boss of all vengeance demons? I knew that.” “No secret here, either,” added Liz, coming around the corner from the dining room. “Dawn!” whined Anya, turning towards the teen. “What? It kinda just slipped out!” she excused herself. “It slipped out?” said Anya indignantly her hands on her hips. “You have to admit Anya that any secret about you slipping out is kinda ironic. You can’t keep a secret...” started Liz. “That’s not true!” Anya protested. “Xander and I were engaged for months before we ever told anyone!” Anya popped out of the room in a puff of smoke. “She’s a demon too?” asked Robin confused. “That’s right vengeance boy,” said Xander inhospitably. Buffy peered at Xander curiously. “And you can just keep your demon killing paws off of her,” he said somewhat manically before tramping off into the kitchen. The assembled potentials and Scoobies looked after him as he left. “Xander has Anya issues,” muttered Dawn knowingly. _________________________ But Robin didn’t leave it there, no matter what delusion Buffy thought Liz was under, who proclaimed that nothing else would happen. Buffy knew something was up. Robin was dangerous and no one was going to admit it. Except Spike. Lovely vampire that he was, always on her side of things. “It’s like living with Angelus again,” he muttered, holding her close as they lay on their cot, just waiting for life on the ground floor to resume normality the next evening. “Always looking over your bloody shoulder! Not knowing when you’re gonna get tied up.” “I could tie you up and get it over with, but then I might not want to let you go...” she purred. Spike smirked. “Please?” Spike said seductively. With a smile Buffy rolled on top of her lover and pinned back his arms. She was leaning down to plan a kiss on his lips, but was interrupted by the opening of the basement door. “Buffy?” came Liz’s voice, standing at the top of the stairs, daring not to come down any further. With a roll of her eyes, Buffy leapt off the bed and scurried towards her discarded clothes. She really didn’t need Liz seeing her in the all together. Finally decently clothed Buffy scuttled back over the cot and bounded towards the stairs. “Yes?” asked Buffy innocently. “Robin let me know about a nest of vamps, near the caves. You wanna come with? Maybe...maybe we can talk?” asked Liz, hesitantly. Buffy shrugged her shoulders. “Ok,” she said half heartedly. She turned back and looked at Spike with a disappointed frown before making her way over to him to give him a kiss and promising to make it up to him later. She really didn’t want to leave Spike, but somewhere deep inside her, the part trying to change for the betterment of the Christmas, puppies, saving the world, and making her family happy, she consented. _________________________ Buffy and Liz walked silently through the woods towards the caves. “So what did you want to talk about?” Buffy asked, breaking the silence between them for the first time since they left the house. Liz looked away uncomfortably. “Oh come on, you really don’t need my help to take out a nest of vamps, you could take all those potentials out to dust the baddies. It must be big important if you wanted to get me alone to talk,” continued Buffy. “I...I wanted to talk, about me, you, life in general and...Spike,” stammered Liz, kicking at a clump of grass. “Ah ha!” exclaimed the vengeance demon. “I mean, I know that...God, I’m saying this all wrong.” “You haven’t said anything yet,” Buffy laughed. “Gah. Ok, Spike, you...I get that, long unrequited love, from what Dawn tells me. I didn’t read the rest of the diary. Dawn seems more perceptive than me, that’s not new. And it’s icky! I wanted him. Spike! The vampire I loathed for years. And he’s my grandfather, so many times removed.” “Yep, it’s a special kind of grossness,” Buffy agreed with a nod, trying very hard to keep the smirk off her face that would anger her granddaughter. “You know maybe that’s why I was denying it for so long. I’m sick, messed up in the head. I’m not saying that it was more than when I came back from the dead, but still messed up.” “Wait,” cautioned Buffy, holding out her hand to stop her granddaughter from her rant and from walking on. “Stop right there. You didn’t know, he didn’t know. How could he? We didn’t know where they went, Henry and Isabella, your grandfather and great aunt.” “LA, they went to LA,” muttered Liz. Buffy nodded her head. She’d long figured it out. Liz and Dawn had ties to LA. “I...” Liz trailed off, letting out a big sigh before continuing, “I also wanted to say, I’m sorry. That I didn’t believe you. That it took me so long. You have to admit, a vengeance demon turning up and saying that she’s my so many times removed grandmother is a little far fetched. Even for a Slayer who lives on the Hellmouth.” “Is it so ridiculous?” asked Buffy just a little hurt. “Maybe not,” admitted Liz and the two shared a smile. They walked on for a bit, closer to the caves before the silence was again interrupted. “So, you and Spike?” said Liz curiously. “That’s going well?” “Yes,” said Buffy with a small smile. “Why do you ask?” “It’s nothing...” “No, it’s not nothing,” pressed Buffy. “You asked for a reason.” “Ok, so maybe, in some sick way...You and Spike, and I’m so over him, cause with the ick, but you guys are the only fully functioning romantic relationship around, you know. That sounds dumb. Ignore me...” “No,” interrupted Buffy. “I understand, and it’s not dumb.” “Anya and Xander are kaput, Willow’s macking on the potential form hell...” “Oooh ya,” added Buffy. “Until Anya and Xander went kaplewy at the altar, I thought that maybe I wasn’t the grimm reaper of relationships.” “You aren’t the grimm reaper of relationships,” disagreed Buffy. “That’s a terrible thing to think. One day you’ll find someone for you, and he’ll be wonderful and you’ll want to fight for him.” “I thought Angel...” “Ok, I have to stop you right there. Angelus is no one’s. I don’t care what you think about the soul. He’s vile, terrible and he killed my family. Your family. He’s not to be trusted.” “You aren’t the first person to tell me that,” continued Liz. “I won’t be the last either, you know. But somehow, it’s my right...being the grandmotherly person in this situation.” “The demon’s funny.” “It’s a gift, what can I say? So where is this nest?” asked Buffy. “It should be just ahead,” explained Liz. “Good, cause all this tramping around in the wet grass is ruining my... SPIKE!” Liz turned and looked at Buffy, who was clutching at her head. “What’s wrong?” “Someone’s hurting Spike. And he’s not fighting back! Fight back you moron! He’s only a human!” Buffy yelled into the air, and was about to teleport to his location when Liz reached out and grabbed her arm. “Spike can’t hurt humans...his chip.” “He doesn’t have a chip anymore!” declared Buffy. “He hasn’t had it for months! I never told him!” Buffy threw off Liz’s grip and teleported to Spike’s location. The room was covered in crosses. And Spike lay against one wall, his face bloodied as if just waiting for his end, from an attacker that was nowhere in sight. Buffy stormed across the floor and towards her lover and mate. “Why didn’t you fight back?” she asked, crouching down to look him in the already swollen eyes. “He’s human pet. Done him wrong enough in his life,” he said slowly. “Chip.” Buffy stood up nodding her head. She knew at once who had attacked her mate. “Wood,” she growled. “Spike, I don’t care if you slaughtered his entire family! I won’t let you get dusted by a mere man! Fight back!” Spike sniffed as if gathering his strength and attempted to stand. At once the only door to the shed opened revealing Robin Wood, a sneer on his face. “Oh good, back together again,” said the principal glaring at the two demons. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #44 - Doublemint Gum

Disclaimer: I don’t own BTVS, I just play Author’s note: Some Dialogue taken from ‘Dirty Girls’ Beta’d by the wonderful Bloodytearsoflife _________________________ “Oh great,” Buffy mumbled, standing up and glaring at the Principal as he stood in the doorway. She would have had a bad feeling about the situation, except for one thing; Robin Wood was just a human. And humans she could deal with. “And you think you can take us both?” asked Buffy. “’Cause if you do, I’m gonna have to burst your bubble.” “I don’t need to take you. You might not think that I can hurt you, not like you hurt me, but you’re wrong,” declared the principal. “Oh?” asked Buffy, putting her hands on her hips. There was a grunt behind her as Spike rose from the ground, avoiding the cross covered wall. His injuries were already healing but in a fight he’d be toast. Or whatever Robin had planned for Spike and her. At this point she was thinking he was going to summon a demon or cast a spell. And she was right. On both accounts. Robin’s lips began to move as he called on the dark magicks. Or at least what he thought were dark magicks. “Blessèd be the name of D'Hoffryn. I come in supplication. I bend as the reed in the flow of the rippling wave of vengeance. I come in the name of vengeance to call upon its master. Blessèd be the name of D’Hoffryn, the name whispered in the name of revenge, vendetta, justice, retribution, vengeance.” Buffy started to giggle, as Anyanka appeared in their midst and Robin’s plan came to light. “Vengeance seeker, I am the great and powerful Anyanka,” started Anya, in a bored voice. “Beware my wrath, speak your wish and it might be granted. If I feel like it anyway.” “Is that what you are using as your speech?” asked Buffy once her friend was done, an amused smile on her face. “Well, yes!” declared Anya. “It’s hard when you’ve decided that you’re on the side of the good, blah blah blah. It takes the fear out of the work you know. Or you would know if you were granting wishes.” “Hey!” protested Buffy. “You told me not to grant any wishes, it’d bring the Immortal to Sunnydale.” “Yep, that I did. Good on you for the whole resisting of temptation. Okay.” Anya clapped her hands together and turned to look at the person who had summoned her. “First of all D’Hoffryn’s dead, I’m the Mistress of Arashamahar now, so you need to change your chant. Now, get on with the wishing, cause you are wasting my time by standing there with a stupid expression on your face.” “I wish Erixel never existed,” said Robin cooly. “And a big no to that one. Got another?” asked Anya, who still looked vaguely bored. “I wish Spike, William the Bloody, would endure the pain of having his loved one taken away,” Robin tried again. Anya looked at Robin with a sympathetic eye. “But that’s already happened to him. Over and over. You’re too late for that one. You’re going to have to get another type of demon to kill them. I won’t do it. Nor will any other vengeance demon,” she intoned, and Buffy felt a small wave of power flow through her. It was as if was Anya using her power to make it known to all vengeance demons that no one was to do anything towards Buffy or her kin. “I’ll get my revenge some other way,” said the principal with a scowl. “You do that,” muttered Anya, puffing away in a cloud of smoke and leaving the two demons alone with the demon hunter once again. “Right helpful, she was,” noted Spike, sniffing, as if preparing himself for a fight once again, despite broken ribs and open wounds. Robin stepped towards them, taking out a dagger that was concealed at his waist and brandished it before him menacingly. Buffy knew that they could run away, portal hop to safety but that would change nothing. She knew that Liz couldn’t afford to give up an ally as important as Principal Wood, not for her and Spike. And Spike couldn’t leave here without knowing her secret. It was long past time to tell him the truth. “Spike, my love,” Buffy said in an encouraging tone. “It’s fight or flight. It’s up to you. This is your fight.” “Bloody chip won’t let me fight love,” he growled, with almost disgust on his face. “Hate to run from a fight though.” “The chip’s gone,” she said turning her attention to his reaction and not the advancing principal. “I had it removed. That’s why it stopped frying your brain.” Spike looked at his mate shocked. Through their bond she felt his hurt, his feeling of betrayal, his concern, embarrassment, and worry all at once. “I knew that if you knew, you’d refuse to see Dawn again. You don’t need the chip anymore Spike. It did what it was supposed to do. You’re all behaviour modified.” Suddenly all the concern and worry left the vampire as he raised his eyebrow at his mate and gave her peck on the cheek before vamping and stepping towards Robin. “Rules have changed,” Spike noted. With a smile, Buffy watched her lover jump into a fight with the principal. Yes, he wasn’t completely up to snuff, but it appeared he had a renewed interest in the scuffle. Buffy leaned against the wall and examined her nails trying to act as if the whole thing didn’t mean that much to her. In reality she was ready to stop it, if Spike lost the upper hand. Within a few minutes Robin Wood was lying bloodied, but alive, on the ground. Spike wiped the blood from his lips and licked it off his hand then extended that same hand to his mate. Buffy smiled up at Spike and took his hand only to have Liz run into the room, out of breath. “Spike? Buffy? What happened?” asked the Slayer, only then looking at the barely conscious person the floor. “Oh, my God.” “I gave him a pass. Let him live. On account of the fact I killed his mother. But that's all he gets,” answered the vampire, pulling his mate along with him on his way out of the shed. “He even so much as looks at me funny again, I'll kill him.” Liz closed her eyes and sighed. “Sort him out Liz,” ordered Buffy as Spike led her from the room. “He’s alive for one reason. We’ve changed.” _________________________ “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. It might have spared you all these cuts and bruises,” lamented Buffy as she dressed his wounds down in the basement of Liz’s house. “You should have told me. You should have left it alone,” he hissed as she pressed a cloth to a cut. “Quit being a baby,” she chastised before her expression turned serious again. “It was either take it out Spike, or I’d wake up next to a pile of dust one sunset. I couldn’t... I won’t...I waited too long for you. I won’t have our eternity cut short by something that we could easily fix.” Spike nodded, his actions careful and deliberate. “How...I didn’t wish it out. You can’t just take it out, you aren’t allowed to grant your own wishes.” “It’s good to be the best friend of the Mistress of Arashamahar,” she answered. “In more ways than one, love.” _________________________ Robin didn’t give them any more trouble after that. Buffy understood, from Dawn, that Liz had given Robin a tongue lashing after Buffy and Spike had left his little vampire love shack. It was very clear that the idea that Robin and Liz were going to be involved romantically was over and done with. Buffy was elated. Robin’s vendetta squelched, it was back to training as normal for the little army. Which found Buffy, Spike, and Liz taking a breather from the ever whining potentials to take out a few random vamps. It was nauseatingly routine night. For some reason, Liz didn’t like to patrol without the two of them, as if something was going to happen to one of them if they weren’t together. Funny how that worked. As it was, Spike decided to go after the one that got away, a blond, in desperate need of an oral hygiene check up, in Buffy’s opinion. Buffy waved him off, perfectly content to follow at a brisk pace instead of getting all out of breath and sweaty for no reason. Liz walked beside her. “It’s the berba weed he puts in his blood...right?” asked Liz, pointing in Spike’s direction. “That’s where he gets the energy?” Liz had been steadily loosing energy, patience, and positive attitude as the days wore down. The Robin issue, the whining of the girls, it was all taking its toll on the Slayer. “I think, it’s may be that that particular vamp looked a little like Darla. Darla and he, never really got on,” explained Buffy. “I didn’t much like her either,” noted Liz. “Please. You think I'm stupid?” came a girl’s voice, not the vampire that Spike had been chasing. The pair of very similar looking blonds approached Spike and this other girl stealthily. “Well, yeah,” noted Buffy‘s mate, grinning. “You were attacking that girl,” noted the girl, landing a punch on Spike‘s nose. So, Buffy punched the girl back, knocking her down. “Sorry, Faith,” piped up Liz. “I didn't realize it was you,” she added, but her tone was anything but sincere. “It's all right, Z. Luckily, you still punch like you used to. Or maybe you’ve gotten better. I’m seeing double.” Faith looked from Buffy to Liz and back again, trying to sort out her double vision. “How come I can only see one vampire but two of you Z? I didn’t think I’d been away that long, when did you go all doublemint on me?” Buffy ignored the comment and turned to her mate. “You okay?” “Yeah. Terrific,” Spike responded, sniffing. “Are you protecting vampires?” asked Faith shocked. “Are you the bad slayer now? Am I the good slayer now? Why are there two of you?” “He's with me,” noted Buffy. “You don’t touch him again.” “Banging the undead again are we? Like Angel?” continued the brunette. “None of your bloody business,” interjected Spike. “Sort of,” answered Buffy with a smile. “No!” declared Liz. “I am nothing like Angel,” Spike continued to protest. “He fights on my side,” continued Liz, shrugging. “Which is more than I can say for some of us.” “Okay, setting aside the fact that you still haven’t explained why there are two of you. And I’m really thinking you didn’t hit me hard enough for the doublemint gum commercial to be still playing...If he's so good, what's he doing chasing down defenceless...” At that moment Faith was cut off by the Darla look a like vamp that Spike had been chasing. With one motion the vamp had Faith on the ground. Liz pointed at the vamp that was all over Faith. “That's one of the bad guys.” “You should make 'em wear a sign,” commented Faith, who swooped around and made to take one of Liz’s stakes. “May I? Thanks,” she said taking a stake and staking the vamp. “Angel's dull as a table lamp. And we have very different colouring,” observed Spike to Buffy as Faith dusted herself off. “Okay, catching up. Anything else I gotta know? Like why there are two Liz’s?” asked Faith again. “Nice to have you back,” said Liz ignoring Faith‘s question. “Come on!” Faith complained following after the trio. _________________________ Truthfully? Buffy thought it was horribly funny that Liz wasn’t answering the question that Faith asked. As they approached the house, Faith tried every tactic she could think of, even telling Liz just what was up at the hospital. Liz opened the front door and walked in, silently inviting the other slayer into the house. “Whoa. Memory Lane. Same old house,” noted Faith as she walked in. “Yeah, well, every piece of furniture's been destroyed and replaced since you left, so, actually, new house,” explained Liz. From the dining room Dawn appeared, briefly glancing at her great great great grandparents before looking questioningly at her sister. “Liz?” asked Dawn as if daring her sister to explain why Faith was back in their house. Buffy didn’t know the whole history, but she did know that Faith was the result of Liz’s one time death. She expected to get the whole story soon from Dawn or Anya. “We have a new house guest,” explained Liz. “Hey, got a spare bed for a wanted fugitive?” asked Faith trying to lighten the mood. Attention directed in Dawn’s direction, Buffy could see Rupert in the dining room as well. He stood and greeted the other slayer coldly. “Well, I guess ‘wanted‘ wasn't really accurate,” continued Faith in joke. “Does she have to stay here? Because there's some nice hotels that welcome tried-to-kill-your-sister types,” said Dawn bitterly. With a smile, Faith tried to ignore the comment. “Check it out. Brat's all woman-sized.” “Look, I need to get to the hospital,” started Liz. “Some girl was attacked on her way into town. We think she might be a...” “We know. Willow's been calling,” interrupted Dawn. “She's still there. She's going to call if the girl wakes up,” added Giles. “Fine,” noted Liz walking out of the room, without giving her watcher another glance. Buffy watched Liz go, disappointed. It had come to light that Giles had known about Robin’s attempt to kill Spike, he simply hadn’t done anything to stop it. It was one of those ‘I’m your watcher and I know better’ moments that the Giles family was noted for. Buffy could understand Liz’s bitterness. “Well, Faith, we better, um, see if we can find some place to squeeze you in for the night,” said Rupert before walking away with Dawn. “Not all that tension was about you. Giles knew about this plan to kill me...for Liz’s and Buffy's own good,” explained Spike. Buffy sighed softly. Her own good? Just how was killing my mate for my own good? “Well, that makes me feel better about me, worse about Giles...kinda shaky about you,” commented Faith. “So I guess that makes you Buffy then?” asked Faith as she turned to Buffy. The vengeance demon nodded. “And you are what? A long lost cousin? Another sister?” asked Faith. “Her great great great grandmother, actually,” explained Buffy. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #45 - Dirty Laundry

Disclaimer: I blame Kennedy on Joss. Author’s note: Some Dialogue taken from ‘Dirty Girls’ Beta’d by the fab BTL. _________________________ Chapter 45: Dirty Laundry Buffy moved downstairs to find herself some non slaying type clothes. This whole do gooding thing was hell on the wardrobe. She’d always been a clothes horse, but lately, the assortment of ‘sensible’ leather pants, sweaters and comfy clothes was just not her style. They clearly were Liz’s though. No wonder new people to their happy little army thought they were twins. Buffy had even started wearing her hair like Liz. The curls had long been straightened and she was wearing it back and up, for the ease of the slaying. Her mother would be horrified. Buffy opened a portal to her own closet in Arashamahar and began to peruse the contents, hoping to find something there to get herself out of her funk. Maybe she could even entice Spike away from the ‘saving of the world’ to have a romantic night alone. Finding a tartan mini and her Sex Pistols tee, she changed quickly. Buffy was in the mood for something loud, and not of the girly variety. There was enough potential chatter in the house for a lifetime quota of the girly. Buffy passed through the portal to return back to the basement only to hear that new girl, Faith’s voice along side her mate’s. “Hey, to each his own, man. This one guy I ran with, he liked me to dress up like a school girl and take this friggin' bull-whip, and I'd be like...” “Well, it’s not like we use them, what with the bitty slayers up above in their peaceful, virginal sleeping bags,” came Spike’s voice. Buffy raised an eyebrow at that. She didn’t quite follow what they were talking about. She knew that Faith couldn’t see her from her vantage point, being on the stairs, but Spike could definitely feel her around. Maybe Faith could too, she was a slayer after all, according to Liz. “Exercising restraint? You?” Faith questioned. “I’ve seen the way you look at her, you’re gone, man. I half expect to see a collar and leash. Though for the life of me I can’t figure out which one of you should be wearing them. I still can’t tell which one’s which though.” Spike laughed at that. “Buffy’s the evil one,” he joked. Buffy peered around the pile of boxes she was hiding behind and glared at her mate. He raised his eyebrow at her from across the basement. “Man, then you haven’t seen Liz when she was trying to save her boy Angel. Wicked scary.” There was a loud masse spurt of giggles from upstairs interrupting her train of thought. “No more Starbucks for the wannabe's man. They've been spazzing for, like, hours.” “Yeah, does get a bit much up there,” Spike conceded. “They're good girls. Just green is all,” added Faith. “So, why aren't you up there...imparting?” he asked. “That's Liz's thing. Anyway, I just spent a good stretch of time locked away with a mess of female-types. Kinda had my fill.” “Hm.… but you waited until Angel needed your help to bust out of jail?,” Spike questioned. “Three squares, nice weight room, movie every third Sunday. Could've been worse.” “What movie?” “Last one was Glitter. I guess it couldn't have been worse.” “You had the power to walk away anytime. Nothing to stop you.” “I stopped me. I got dangerous for a while.” There was the rustling of fabric and Buffy’s demon heart started beating faster. Was this slayer putting the moves on her mate? Spike sensed her discomfort and sent her some loving, calming thoughts back. “You over it?” Spike asked the slayer. “More or less. I pull for the good guys now.” “What's the less?” “The usual stuff...” offered Faith vaguely. “Such as?” “I was thinking about looking up the guy with the bull-whip. Long incarceration,” noted Faith. Spike laughed at Faith’s comment. “You could do better. School girl thing's old hat.” “It's all old-hat, man. Every guy's got some whack fantasy. Scratch the surface of any granola-type dude...naughty nurses and horny cheerleaders. I figure, if you can't beat 'em...” “Join 'em.” “Just don't forget who's on top,” observed Faith. “That, I suspect, would be you.” “You got that right.” Movement caught Buffy’s eye and she watched as Faith walked over to the cot and sat down. “I've met you before, you know.” “Yeah, you made a great impression on my chin.” “Not in the graveyard. Before that. I was kinda wearing a different body.” “Pity.” “You seemed okay with it.” “The body swap. With Liz,” he offered knowingly. “She fill you in on that whole deal?” “She told me it went down. Failed to mention who was driving her skin around.” “I may have said a few things...“ “Like you could ride me at a gallop 'til my knees buckle, squeeze me 'til I pop like warm champagne. That's not the kind of thing a man forgets.” Buffy had had enough. This girl was making her feel jealous and she hated that. She’d been jealous of Drusilla for over a century. Enough was enough. “Should've known it wasn't blondie behind the wheel. She'd never throw down like that,” noted Faith. With a grit of her teeth, Buffy teleported across the basement and landed, seated on Spike’s lap, her arms eagerly wrapping around his neck. “I was wondering when you’d show up,” he noted, half sarcastically. Buffy flashed him a coy smile. “Missed you,” she said, before cocking her head down to lick the bite marks on his neck. “I’m sure you did, luv.” “What the hell are you?” asked Faith, a little taken aback my Buffy’s entrance. “Immortal Slayer, version one point oh,” noted Buffy with a false smile. “Have you been getting to know Faith?” she asked her mate. “You know exactly what I’ve been doing, you silly bint,” he growled playfully. “I was thinking, if you are up for the rest of the day, that we’d go clubbing,” she offered. “Now?” asked Faith. “Is that what this get up is for?” asked Spike, paying no attention to Faith. “Please?” she asked sweetly. The basement door opened and down stepped Liz, a hard glare on her face. “Hey Z,” greeted Faith. “Well, it's nice to see you three getting along so well,” observed Liz, clearly annoyed. “Yeah. Uh, you just know all the cool vampires,” said Faith shifting in her seat. “And whatever the hell Buffy is.” “Yeah,” spat Liz. “Hey, aren't you usually at work 'bout now?” asked Spike. “I kind of decided to cut back on my hours,” explained Liz. “Liz?” came Dawn’s voice from upstairs. “Is that you?” Liz yelled back up to her sister without taking her eyes off the trio sitting on the cot. “Figured I'd be better off focusing on what's going on around here,” spat Liz, glaring at those in front of her. Dawn was suddenly standing at the top of the stairs looking down at her sister, and the rest of them in the basement. “Liz, Willow just called from the hospital. The girl's awake.” Liz nodded and returned up the stairs, past the stationary Dawn who was glaring at Faith, then looked questioningly at Buffy and Spike. “Careful Dawn,” said Buffy cheerfully. “Someone might think you wanted vengeance on Faith here.” “If I did, I have a few people I can call, she’s just better be glad I’m giving her a free pass, ‘cause the world’s ending and all.” Dawn turned and closed the basement door on the trio. “She doesn’t like you much, does she?” Buffy stated rather than asked. “Try to kill her sister a few times, threaten her mother, you get the feeling that there’s some hatred. Doesn’t get me into little Dawnie’s good books that’s for sure,” noted Faith, standing up off the cot and walking towards the stairs. “Doesn’t get you in mine either,” whispered Buffy as Faith walked up the steps to the main floor. “Liz needs her, love,” noted Spike nuzzling against his mate’s neck. “Maybe, doesn’t mean I have to like her. I’m half tempted to grant Dawn a wish,” she added and Spike gave her a look and Buffy raised her hands up off his neck in protest. “I know! I’m not going to, so stop looking at me like that, Mr. Fairchilde! I’m tempted is all.” Buffy raised her hands up off his neck in protest. _________________________ Buffy portaled back from the mess that was the raid on the vineyard, carrying an one eyed, and bleeding Xander. His screams of pain, the wound from what once used to be his eye tore at her heart. He didn’t deserve this. For all he’d done to Anya, even this seemed wrong. It was an injury that she herself would have thought just, after the botched wedding. But now? As she settled Xander into a wheelchair outside the emergency department of Sunnydale Memorial and began to wheel him in through the sliding doors, an odd thought came through her head. She’d changed. Would she do this kind of thing to anyone else on the planet? Even if they were abusers, molesters, or deadbeats? The nurses finally came scurrying towards Xander and attended to his eye. The answer came thundering through her head. Probably not. Maybe, in her few short months with Dawn and Liz in their happy little army camp, Erixel had disappeared. All that was left, was Buffy. Xander was wheeled away, by the nurses, leaving Buffy standing in the emergency room all alone. She didn’t want to be here, Xander, his eye, was a reminder of something she didn’t want to think about. By now, the fallen and the defeated Slayers and potentials were back at the house. Soon, Willow or Liz would be at his side. There was someone else that needed to be there too. Buffy stepped back out the sliding doors and portaled to Arashamahar and Anya’s throne room. “Hey, Rixy, what’s up?” asked Anya over the top of her latest Cosmo. “How’s life in Slayer land?” “Anya, you have to go to the hospital,” Buffy said solemnly. “Xander’s been hurt.” The words were no more out of Buffy’s mouth before Anya disappeared into a portal that opened up at her throne, leaving the ancient stone chair charred and smelly. With a nod of her head, Buffy opened a portal and went back to Liz’s house. She’d done her best for the night at least. It was time to cuddle up with her mate and try to forget the disaster that had happened tonight. It was giving her tummy aches. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #46 - Boinking

Disclaimer: I blame Kennedy on Joss. Author’s note: Some Dialogue taken from ‘Empty Places’ Thanks to BTL for the betating. Sorry it took so long to get an update of this one out! _________________________ Chapter 46: Boinking She might have changed but she still had low tolerance for the many annoyances she put up with day to day in Liz’s house. Buffy cringed as she walked through the house. She could hear Anya’s little talk that was happening in the basement. Why the hell would she tell the potentials that she had sex with Xander? Buffy shook her head in disbelief and headed into the kitchen. In the kitchen, Faith was sitting on the island eating chips, Kennedy was standing to the side, talking with her, as was Amanda, Dawn‘s friend. The conversation ceased as Buffy entered the kitchen though. “Thing is... what's the point? Studying demon hot zones and pressure points doesn't do a hell of a lot of good when preacher man's out there, ready to finish the job he started,” prattled on Kennedy, finally regaining her tongue as Buffy stood there waiting for her to finish her sentence. “No one's come up with any info on Caleb yet?” asked Faith turning around to look at Buffy for the info. “No. Nothing is working...Not research, not Anya's contacts,” supplied Amanda when Buffy didn’t speak up. “We're lousy with dead ends around here,” Kennedy said crossing her arms. “Everyone's feeling pretty pointless. We don't even have a place to start,” she complained. “Maybe you should get up off your ass and do something productive then?” Buffy snapped at Kennedy. “Has it occurred to you that everyone who can do something is trying their best? You just seem content on complaining about it. Maybe it’s your turn to do something useful. Instead of boinking the witch. I don‘t exactly call that useful.” Faith started to chuckle. “Boarding school has met her match,” noted Faith. “Boarding school?” asked Buffy sceptically. Her eyes looked Kennedy up and down. She snorted and headed towards the dining room. “Is this the pathetic excuse for education that American boarding schools turn out? Embarrassing.” Buffy headed into the dining room with a smile on her face, to be greeted by Liz, who had just come back from the hospital, with Dawn. “Did you just say boinking?” asked Dawn of her grandmother. “I did,” admitted Buffy now realising that everyone in the dining room had heard her attack on Kennedy, including the boinking part. Liz put down a file on the table and looked up to see Faith, Kennedy, and Amanda walk in behind Buffy. “Whatcha got?” asked Faith, moving around Buffy. “Info that Giles and Willow were able to pull off the police database. We figured with Caleb's, you know, overt religiosity thing if we wanna learn more about him, let's find out where he's been,” explained Liz as Faith leafed through the folder. “’Incidents of violence and vandalism connected to California religious institutions in the last 10 years.’ Looks like this gives us a place to start,” noted Faith. “Yeah. I figure we start with California. We don't find anything there, we'll expand the search. But a guy like Caleb didn't just get in the game. He's been playing for a while, and I wanna know where. Whatever it takes.” Liz turned to Dawn. “You good to help?” “Well, I was gonna do lots and lots of homework, but darn the luck, they went and cancelled school.” Liz handed Dawn the papers. “So looks like I got the time.” “Good,” deadpanned Liz. Buffy stepped back against the wall as Liz got everyone started on the research, or back down to the basement for Anya’s fun talk. There was no light in Liz’s eyes. It was as if she’d already given up. And that was sad. It was something that Buffy had never lost...or at least never admitted to herself that she had lost. Buffy didn’t give up. Even after Angelus killed her family and left her paralysed, she didn’t give up. After the Watcher’s Council tried to kill her, she didn’t give up, she just moved on to something else. Even when Spike was faithful to Drusilla all those years...well it continued to prove her the point. Liz needed to have a good talking to. If that would help any. By Anyanka, she hoped it helped. ‘Cause this granny was going to make sure her genes got passed on to the next generation, apocalypse or not. And she really wanted to beat Kennedy to a pulp. _________________________ Buffy paced the length of the basement as Spike watched. She wanted to do something, anything to get Liz out of her funk. She wanted to make the world a better place for Dawn and Liz and she really wanted to squish Kennedy like a bug. It was a feeling that wasn’t going away. “Stop pacing luv,” asked Spike calmly. “You’re driving me up the wall.” She stopped suddenly and turned towards her mate. “You don’t get it. She’s given up. Where does she get that from? She’s gonna die and she’s gonna let it happen,” she ranted. “Are you more concerned about Liz dying or about her death mucking up your plans for the bloody Immortal?” he asked calmly. Buffy turned towards him with a start and stepped closer to him, forcing herself to not slap him across the face just as the instinct to raise her arm came over her. “That was mean,” she countered lamely. “And so not true.” She geared up for an argument. He knew her so well that often it wasn’t a good idea to start arguing with him, but this time...this time he wasn’t right. Unfortunately they were, at that moment summoned to the upper floor by the watcher. With a glare at her mate, Buffy turned and headed up, leaving Spike on the cot wondering what he did wrong. Okay, he knew, but he didn’t think he deserved death glare for it. “What's up... Rupert?” Spike asked as he and Buffy entered the room that held the watcher, Dawn, and Andrew. “Spike, I have a mission for you, and Buffy,” noted Giles not looking up from the file he held in his hand. “Oh, really? 'Cause, you know, sometimes our missions end up with you not bothering to care whether or not I come back from them. I'm not fond of those,” noted Spike bitterly, referring to the time Robin had led him to the garage of crosses. “This is bona fide... with real ramifications. Take a look at this,” offered the watcher handing Spike the folder and the magnifying glass. “Looks like our boy's been here. You want me to go check it out?” asked Spike handing the file to Buffy for her confirmation. Buffy didn’t get the connection, but she believed her man. If Spike said the Watcher was right, then Rupert Giles was right. “I need someone who can take care of themselves in case Caleb has... left some souvenirs,” explained Giles. With a nod of his head Spike turned to go out the door, half expecting Buffy to follow after him, half expecting her to protest the fact that she hadn’t been consulted. “Are we gonna get to the food-stealing issue soon?” whined Andrew. “Take Andrew,” Giles called out after Spike. Buffy gawked at the suggestion while the two men involved barked their incredulity. “Well, you are always saying you wanna get out of the house more,” Dawn said, turning to Andrew. “Yeah, but...” started the nerd. “There may be demons... lurking about. You never know. He's a demon expert. He can help,” explained Giles at Buffy‘s annoyed look. “Oh, please,” exclaimed an exasperated Spike. “Well, he can bring his pan flute thing along. Excellent. Off you go,” noted Giles, pushing Andrew towards Spike. Buffy and Spike locked eyes for a moment and each of them recognized that Buffy wouldn’t be going on this little mission after all. She couldn’t stand the boy. “Have fun!” Buffy said half seriously to the two retreating men. “Not going?” asked Dawn. “No, let them do their macho thing, without the little woman tagging along for once,” noted Buffy with a smile, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall. She faded into the background as Dawn and Faith decided that it was time to relax with the girls at the Bronze. On her own, Buffy didn’t see the harm in it. They all did need to get some tension out of their systems. But she knew instinctively that Liz would have a problem with it. As the whole kit and kaboodle started to get ready for the impromptu bar night, Buffy couldn’t decide if this was her place to butt in or not. Faith was a slayer too and aside from the fact that Faith probably had no real clue as to what Buffy was before she turned vengeance demon, there was no way that Faith would defer to her. Dawn on the other hand... Buffy walked up to Dawn’s room and knocked on the door, startling the four or five potentials that were hastily applying makeup with the help of Dawn’s mirror. Dawn came out of her closet arms filled with bar appropriate clothes. The teen’s face fell as she glimpsed Buffy though and she threw the clothes down on the bed and stomped to the vengeance demon in the doorway. “You are going to tell me you don’t want me to go, aren’t you?” she pouted. Buffy put a hand on Dawn’s arm and sighed. “Pretty much. I don’t think it’s safe for you out there. I’ve seen towns and cities that are on the brink of revolution, anarchy, and chaos. Sunnydale isn’t a nice place anymore. Spike would want you safe, as would Liz, and as do I.” Sadly Dawn nodded. Buffy could tell that the teen wasn’t happy with this but she struggled to not let it show on her face. “What can we do instead?” asked Dawn, a hopeful smile gracing her face. “New York?” “I was actually thinking Arashamahar, and see where that takes us?” suggested Buffy. “You can snag stuff from my closet...” Dawn’s face lit up. Buffy might have been old, but she had the largest collection of clothes Dawn had ever seen. “We can’t stay long though, Xander’s coming home tonight,” stated Dawn. Buffy tugged on Dawn’s hand and led her through a portal, leaving a burn mark on the upstairs hallway rug. _________________________ Buffy sat on her bed, in Arashamahar and watched as Dawn rifled through her clothes. “I’m worried about Liz,” Buffy said finally after a long pause. “What’s to worry about?” asked Dawn distractedly. “This is apocalyptic stuff. She always wins in the end. There was that time when she died though...” Dawn trailed off holding a tartan mini in her hand. “Was she this despondent the last time?” asked Buffy. “No, but the last time, she told me she was stuck in a whole in the ground. Xander saved the world last time.” Buffy nodded as if she understood. She really didn’t though. “I don’t think that this time Xander’s going to cut it,” noted Buffy. “Even I’m worried about the world this time. I think Liz has given up.” “No!” exclaimed Dawn, ignoring the lure of the clothes and sitting down beside Buffy. “She wouldn’t give up. That’s not her.” “No?” asked Buffy. “Have you seen the look in her eyes? It’s frightening.” “I’m sure it’s not true,” protested Dawn again. “The next time you see your sister, look into her eyes and then tell me you feel hope for this end of the world scenario.” _________________________ They arrived back at the house well in time for Xander’s arrival and the welcome home party that the potentials were throwing him. The air in the house was tense though, as if something had happened while they had been away. Buffy looked from one angry face to another, feeling the cry for vengeance that the potentials exhibited. Giles was oblivious, and Faith was nowhere to be seen. “When Xander comes back, there’s gonna be a meeting,” Kennedy stated to Dawn and glared at Buffy as she walked by. Dawn seemed eager for the meeting and sat down next to Amanda and started asking what had happened since they had gone. Nothing good had happened, from what Buffy could gather. The door opened and Xander, Liz, and Willow entered the house, followed by Faith and the principal. The sign the potentials had made fluttered against the cool night breeze that entered the house through the open door. “Oh, God,” exclaimed the carpenter as he looked around. “We didn't have time to do more. You have to pretend there's a big party here,” noted Kennedy. Dawn jumped up from her seat and hugged her friend, earning a smile from Xander. “That's fine. Parties in this house, I usually end up having to... rebuild something,” he joked. “Welcome home, Xander,” started Liz, seriously. “I wanted you to be here for this. I think you'll be interested in what I found out.” Buffy settled in for a ‘Liz speech’ and leaned against the wall. “W...what did you find out?” asked Willow only slightly stammering. “I...it's about the cellar,” Liz continued. “Look, I know that night wasn't fun for any of us... but I figured out some things about that place, and I realize now what we have to do. We're going back in.” Buffy smelt the burning odour of a portal opening just before Anya appeared at the doorway, with popcorn. “I thought I was missing a meeting,” she piped up happily as she moved over towards Willow on the couch. The interruption didn’t faze Liz much and soon she was back into the flow of things. “Look, I know what you're thinking, but I had a visit at the school today from Caleb.” “Liz, why didn't you..” interrupted Dawn with a concerned tone to her voice. “I'm fine. I mean, it wasn't fun, but I'm fine. I'm better than fine. I... I figured something out. He kept making all this noise about the school,” explained Liz. “Is it that seal again?” questioned Robin. “Do we need to try shutting it again?” asked Willow. Buffy was starting to get angry with all the interruptions, she wanted to know what Liz was going on about already. “No, that's just it,” continued Liz. “We've spent all this time worrying about the seal and the Hellmouth. Why isn't Caleb guarding them? Why doesn't he have someone there protecting it? Why is he camped out at the vineyard? The bad guys always go where the power is. So if the seal was so important to Caleb and the First, they would be there right now. They're protecting the vineyard or something at the vineyard. I say it's their power, and I say it's time we go in and take it away from them.” Buffy could see the disbelief in the faces of the assembled listeners. They didn’t like this suggestion at all. “Or, in the alternative, how 'bout...we don't? I mean, it's a neat theory, Z, but I'm not going back in that place, not without proof, and neither should you and neither should they,” declared Faith. “I'm not saying it's gonna be easy,” continued Liz, only to be interrupted again. “I think Faith had the floor,” the principal spouted. “Maybe it ends okay the way you wanna play it, but maybe it doesn't. And right now, I don't think I want you playin' the odds,” Faith continued. “Did you come here to fight?” asked Liz clearly getting angry at the way this conversation was going. “Listen, we're fighters, all of us, but you gotta give me something to fight, something real, not...” trailed off Faith looking for a metaphor, which Giles provided. His softly uttered mention of windmills drew Buffy’s blood to boil. It went completely over the heads of most of the people in the cramped living room though. “There is something there,” reiterated Liz. “Maybe. But we can't be sure of that. This is a hell of a lot to ask,” interjected Giles. “Too much,” agreed Robin. Buffy‘s heart sank. They were against her, the whole lot of them. Ungrateful for her life. Still, valiantly, Liz continued. “I - I don't understand this. For seven years, I've kept us safe by doing this...exactly this, making the hard decisions. And now, what... suddenly you're all acting like you can't trust me?” “Didn't you say to me today you can't trust us? Maybe there's something there that should be addressed,” Giles commented. Buffy’s eyes flashed. In her opinion, watchers couldn’t be trusted...ever. “Is that why you sent Spike away, to ambush me?” asked Liz in a little girl voice, trying to summon more courage in the face of her friend’s lack of confidence. “Oh, come on,” protested Giles. “You know what? I am sick of your deal with this Spike guy. This isn't about him. This is about you. You're being reckless,” piped up a potential. “What?” asked Liz in disbelief. “You are! I don't even know you, and I can tell! You are so obsessed with beating Caleb, you are willing to jump into any plan without thinking,” continued the potential. “That's not what I'm doing,” declared Liz. “Well, that's how it feels to us,” said Kennedy stepping towards Liz. “People are dying.” Buffy watched with hope as Willow stood up from her spot and walked towards her best friend and her girlfriend. “Kennedy...” Willow warned her lover. Kennedy turned around and snapped back at Willow with venom. “Why are you always standing up for her?” “I'm not,” stated Willow rather sadly. “You’re not?” asked Buffy incredulously. “Her best friend and you aren’t standing up for her? I guess Kennedy has rubbed off on you after all. I had such hopes.” Buffy stepped into the middle of the room, letting all eyes focus on her. “You are all sheep. Liz is the Slayer. She’s saved the world more times than any other slayer, ever. And that includes me. You’ve all latched on to her coat tails, along for the ride. You know what? If you aren’t happy with her leadership then there is the door. Take your own chances out there, against the bringers, the crazy preacher, and the First. You obviously think you can do better. Who knows, maybe the powerful witch here can protect you long enough to think you can beat the First without Liz’s help and leadership.” Buffy looked around at the pathetic peons that inhabited the house. “This house stinks of betrayal, cries for vengeance, and BO. I guess that’s always the way it ends for Slayers, betrayed eventually by the people she trusts most. I was lucky enough to have my family killed before I needed them to back me up. Liz hasn’t lost that at least.” Willow and Xander at least had the decency to look ashamed. “Where would you be if Liz wasn’t the slayer? What would you be? Would you even be alive?” “Ooh! I know that one!” Anya offered. “Willow and Xander would be vampires. Faith, Giles, and Robin would be dead, and Molly would be the slayer.” All eyes turned to Anya as she happily munched away on her popcorn. “What?” “Molly would be alive though,” piped up a random potential. Eyes locked on Anya again. “I don’t get to see the future, just alternate dimensions. It’s part of the Mistress of Arashamahar gig.” _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #47 - Better than Cookies

Disclaimer: I blame Kennedy on Joss. Author’s note: Some Dialogue taken from ‘Empty Places’, ‘Touched’ and ‘End of Days’. Thanks and huggles to Bloodytearsoflife for betaing! _________________________ Chapter 47: Better than Cookies “I've gotten us this far,” Liz interjected. “But not without a price,” Xander added in quietly. “I need cola...continue without me,” Anya said, wandering into the kitchen. “Look, I'm willing to talk strategy, okay? I'll hear suggestions on how to break this down, but this is the plan. We have to be together on this or we will fail again,” noted Liz. “We are clearly demonstrating that we are not together on this!” Giles nearly yelled. “For the love of Anyanka, would you stop shouting!” Buffy yelled into the room, effectively shutting up all dissenters. Anya walked in with her cola. “You yelled?” “I wish Spike were here,” muttered Dawn. Xander leapt forward and covered Anya’s mouth before she could grant the wish. “Maybe we should hold off on this until Spike comes back. With the stuff he’s learned from the monastery. He might have news,” suggested Dawn, softly. “I like that idea,” noted Buffy. “He should be back before sunrise.” “If it’s a girl Caleb has...” trailed off Liz. “Then, she’s already dead, Liz. There are always casualties in war,” offered Buffy. _________________________ It was only a few hours later that Spike and Andrew stomped into the house. The tension from the earlier face off hadn’t dissipated much. Several potentials were passing the time with a movie, while Faith and Robin seemed to have disappeared. Liz was pouting in the kitchen and Buffy was talking animatedly but quietly with Anya. The stomping of Spike’s Doc Martins drew her attention from her conversation with Anya. Buffy looked up at her mate with a smile and stepped towards him, her arms reaching out for him. “When this is all over, I want a very long vacation at home,” she started, resting her head against his chest. “Home, Arashamahar, home?” he asked. “No,” she answered softly. “England, home,” she corrected, sharing a soft smile with him. “What did you find out?” “There’s something at the vineyard. I think it’s a weapon or an arsenal of weapons. Maybe mystical, for the Slayer alone. What happened here tonight?” he asked. “Oh they all tried to gang up on Liz,” noted Anya. “Even Giles. I’m not speaking to Xander right now.” “How is Liz taking it?” asked Spike concerned. “Like she’s lost all her friends. Dawn’s been trying to cheer her up, but that’s not going too well,” explained Buffy. “She needs a vacation. We all need vacations. I know this great spot in....”Anya trailed off as everyone stared at her. “Right, apocalypse. No vacation.” “No vacation Anya,” said Buffy sadly. “But maybe it’s time I pulled my weight around here.” “Love?” questioned Spike. “I’m going. By myself. The Preacher man will be expecting a large frontal assault. And I’m not mortal. He can’t...well he can, but there are so few ways to kill a vengeance demon.” “What if they ask where you went?” asked Anya. “Stall them. I’ll be back before sunset. Hopefully sooner,” Buffy said, holding Spike tighter. “Love, are you sure about this?” Spike asked softly, knowing full well that she had made up her mind. She nodded against his chest. “This is something I feel I need to do. I love you.” Spike planted a kiss on the top of her head and stepped away from her. “Let them discuss, let them bicker and badger, but don’t let them do anything that sends the rest of those girls into the vineyard,” ordered Buffy in an almost slayer like tone. And with that she headed outside. _________________________ Buffy stomped to the vineyard not caring if Bringers were spying on her. She was mad and she wanted to vent her frustrations on something or possibly someone. The Bringer guarding the entrance to the cellar was good enough. Throwing the body down the steps into the cellar, Buffy jumped down and stared the Preacher man down. “Hey. I heard you had something that belongs to the Slayer,” she noted, cocking her head to the side as if curious. “Well, if it ain’t the prodigal Slayer,” Caleb started. Buffy shrugged her shoulders. “Where’s it at? I’m going to find it sooner or later.” Buffy surveyed the room, her eyes not finding anything of note. Caleb began to saunter over to her position, confidence and arrogance exuding his entire being. “No, you’re not. I lay one hand on you and you’re just a dead little girl,” he taunted. “But she’s not a little girl,” came a voice from the darkness. Both Caleb and Buffy turned towards the voice and Buffy watched as Liz’s form walked out from the shadows. “Are you?” came the voice of Liz. “You’re supposed to be one of mine. A demon. Vengeance demon. Isn’t that right?” asked the First Evil, crinkling Liz’s nose. Suddenly the First’s appearance changed. Blond hair turned to brown, green eyes to blue. Buffy gasped as she saw the form of her baby sister, dead now for over a century, looking back at her. “I know you feel me inside of you,” said Danielle. “The evil. You fight it all the time. Why don’t you just give in? “ The First’s appearance changed again, and Buffy felt a tear roll down her cheek as she saw her son looked back at her. “Mum, take Papa and get out of this town. You just got him back, don’t waste this time you have with him,” explained Christopher. Buffy sniffed once and nodded. Straightening her shoulders, she looked back at Caleb. “Just got a few things to do before then, Christopher. Lay a hand on me, if you can,” she directed at Caleb. It wasn’t hard to make Caleb lose his cool. Years of practice from all those times she’d been attacked but didn’t really want to get her hands dirty. Humans were predictable. She ducked and dove out of the preacher’s reach. “You whore,” he swore at her as he lunged at her once again. “First of all? I’ve been faithful to one man for over a century. Secondly, you really should watch your language. If someone didn’t know you, they might think you were a woman hating prick.” Caleb picked up a wine barrel and lifted it above his head, about to bash it down on Buffy’s head. In an instant Buffy saw that empty spot were the barrel had been now revealed a trap door. As he threw the barrel, Buffy jumped up, using the cross beams of the cellar to aid her escape and threw herself towards the trapdoor, sliding down into the crawlspace as more barrels came down upon the little door in the floor. She landed indelicately, infinitely glad that no one was there to see the clumsy way she landed. Looking up and dusting herself off, her eyes caught the thing she had come for. The weapon, shiny, pointy, and sharp was sticking out of a block of stone. She stepped towards it and smiled. This was it. She could feel its power and she wanted it, knew that she should have it. Buffy raised her hand and grasped the handle. It felt perfect for her hand. Tightening her grip she wondered just how Excalibur like this was going to feel as she pulled it from the rock. She pulled. Nothing happened. The weapon was stuck in the rock. Buffy pouted. She could hear the sounds of Bringers moving the barrels away from the trap door and she knew that she didn’t have much time. She tried again, pulling harder on the weapon. Still nothing. She stamped her foot in frustration. She didn’t understand. This was supposed to be for the slayer. Why couldn’t she pry it from the stone? She was a slayer after all. Then a thought occurred to her. She wasn’t quite a slayer. Her fingers travelled to the pendant that she wore around her neck and touched the stone delicately. It was a hunch, she just hoped it worked. She lifted the pendant over her head and set it down on the ground beside her. With a deep breath and making sure to keep an eye on her pendant (she so did not want that thing to get lost) she gripped the weapon and gave a tug. The shiny axe thing came free. Buffy stooped down, grabbed her pendant, slid it over her head, and took off into the cavern. It was time to get out of there. _________________________ Buffy banged down the weapon on the dining room table, in front of Giles, Liz, and Faith and smiled. “This is it. This is what Caleb had.” Giles stood up from the table and reached out towards the weapon. Buffy glared at the watcher, who flinched back at her gaze. “It’s a Slayer weapon,” noted Buffy looking at Liz. Tentatively Liz reached out for the weapon and gripped the handle. Slowly the defeated girl’s attitude changed. As the smile crept over her face, Liz lifted the weapon from its place on the table. “Where’s Caleb now?” asked Giles watching as his slayer expertly swung the weapon around. “Probably getting a talking to from the First Evil,” noted Buffy. “I didn’t stick around to tell him I’d taken the toy.” Liz handed the weapon off to Faith and sat down again next to Willow. “It feels powerful,” observed Liz. “Ya, I feel it,” said Faith, handing off the weapon to Giles. “This is really quite ingenious,” noted Giles, taking a few practice swings with the scythe himself, ignoring the glare that Buffy was giving him again. “Do you feel something when you hold it?” asked Willow of Buffy. “Not much, but it’s strong. And I knew it belonged to me. Or a slayer. I just knew it,” responded the vengeance demon. Buffy didn’t want to mention the fact that she had had to remove her pendant. That little tid bit she didn’t want to disclose. “In addition to being ancient, it’s clearly mystical,” interjected Giles finally setting down the scythe. “Ya, I figured that one out when I King Arthured it out of the stone,” responded Buffy, setting her hands on her hips. “So maybe it’s like some kind of traditional Slayer weapon,” suggested Willow. “I don’t imagine how something like this could exist without my having heard of it,” protested Giles. “Well the good guys aren’t traditionally known for their great communication skills,” noted Buffy with some spite, looking at the watcher. Giles looked back from her stare and looked sympathetically at Liz. “Right,” noted Giles with a nod of his head. “Any chance that it might be something other than a tool for killing things?” “Well, the First’s guys clearly wanted it out of that stone. It’s not just a tool. It’s important,” responded Buffy. “We need to find out whatever we can. Who made it? When? Why? Does it have a name? I don’t know…a credit report? Just find out fast,” ordered Liz. “We’ll start working immediately,” agreed Giles. “Ya, don’t worry, Liz. We’ll find out everything there is to know,” added Willow as she walked up to her laptop and turned it on. “Good,” started Liz. “’Cause right now, that thing’s all we’ve got going for us.” Liz stood up from the table and moved around the table towards Buffy. “Thanks, Buffy,” said Liz with a small smile. “What are grandmothers for? I don’t bake cookies or knit.” Liz nodded. “Finding a mystical slayer weapon, definitely better than cookies.” _________________________ tbc…

Chapter #48 - Late Night Conversations

Disclaimer: I blame Kennedy on Joss. Author’s note: Some Dialogue taken from ‘End of Days.’ Once again, much huggles to Bloodytearsoflife for the wonderful betaing. You rock my socks! _________________________ Chapter 48: Late Night Conversations Inside the house, the research on the fun scythe thingy was continuing with interest. Those research inclined were gathered around the dining room, comparing, reading, debating and jotting down notes. Buffy and Liz were clearly not researchy people. Taking a calm moment on the back porch, their conversation turned to Dawn. Dawn had a future Liz wasn’t willing to give herself, and that fact was just a little more depressing than Buffy wanted to think about. “You agree, we have to keep her safe?” asked Liz of Buffy, as they sat on the back porch steps. Buffy sighed. She didn’t like the conversation she was having with Liz, but she could see the point of it. “She’s not going to like it, at all.” Liz nodded. “I don’t want her hurt. You can pop her to New York, or London, or wherever she’s going to be safe.” Buffy nodded. The idea of sending Dawn away and far from the battle was appealing. There was a factor that Buffy had to consider though. Any ‘safe’ place for Dawn was one of her or Spike’s homes around the world. The Immortal knew about them all. He even had inroads to Arashamahar. The safest place for Dawn was with a Slayer, Vengeance Demon or Vampire, someone that was going to take care of her and had the ability to keep her safe. Buffy agreed that it was the best course of action to get Dawn away, but she needed someone to go with her. And it wasn’t going to be the carpenter like Liz suggested. Buffy nodded her head to Liz’s suggestion and put her hand on Liz’s arm. “I’ll do it,” Buffy finally said. “I’ll put her somewhere safe, but not until the last minute.” “This is the last minute!” Liz declared. “No, it’s not,” countered Buffy. “I’m also not sending her alone. I will not send her away without someone to protect her. Someone who can protect her from the Immortal.” “No Xander, huh?” asked Liz. “Nope. If you want him safe then you have to work that out for yourself. He’s not on my radar.” “When, then?” Liz questioned as Buffy stood up from her place on the step. “I don’t know, but I’ll know when. I won’t let anything happen to her. I give you my promise.” Buffy opened the back door and stepped into the kitchen. Spike was standing by the microwave waiting for blood to heat. His blue eyes caught her green ones and instantly knew that something was up. In a blatant disregard for the condition of the linoleum tile, Buffy grabbed Spike’s hands and led him into a portal. Stepping into Arashamahar, Buffy let herself be embraced by her mate and leaned forward to meet his waiting lips. The tension that had built up in her since her discussion with Liz melted away as they kissed. He broke the kiss and held her at arms length, his eyes staring into hers. “Tell me,” he ordered. “She wants me to take Dawn away, keep her out of harm. The trouble is, that there is nowhere safer for Dawn than with her family.” Spike nodded at that. “Liz is right. Dawn does need to be away from the battle, but she needs someone with her. I need you with her,” Buffy continued. She looked up into Spike’s face and knew at once that he didn’t think that this was good idea. “I want to be in the thick of things, Buffy,” he explained. “I’m not a nursemaid.” Buffy glared at her mate for a moment. “She’s sixteen. She’s not in nappies.” “Besides the point, luv,” continued Spike. “I want to be in the fight, not put out to pasture.” Buffy snorted. “I’m not putting you out to pasture. Nothing even close to it! I want you and Dawn to make sure that I get vengeance on the Immortal. I need Dawn safe to do that. I want you there when it happens. Just in case…” “In case of what?” asked Spike incensed. “You’re immortal Buffy, you can’t die.” “No, I’m not immortal, not in the strictest sense. I could die Spike. It’s harder to kill me, but I’m not immortal. One lucky strike, sever my head and I’m done. This battle is scarier than anything I’ve imagined. I want to make sure that Dawn is alive and well. And I need you to make sure of that. Please?” Spike held his mate close once again and rested his head in her blond locks. “I don’t like it,” he commented, but his voice was resigned. “When?” His voice was resigned. “Don’t know yet. But thank you,” she whispered. “I can’t deny you now, Buffy,” he conceded. She chuckled to herself as she ran her fingers over his leather clad arm. “I think I waited long enough for that. Show me?” she asked leading him towards the bed. The bed hadn’t been used much since they had taken up residence in the basement of 1630 Revello Drive, but it was a soft and welcome location. The mementos of Buffy’s life were carefully placed around the room, clothes from by gone eras, portraits of people long dead, knickknacks from her house of birth; everything had its place and its memories. As Spike lowered her onto the coverlet, their lips brushing against the other’s, Buffy couldn’t help but notice that she had no visible reminders of the man who had dominated her life and her emotions from her human days. Nothing of his had survived. It was something she had to make right, before she didn’t have a chance to change it. Spike pushed her hands above her head and ran his hands down her arms, his fingers pressing into her skin. It was a terrible idea, leaving him. Deep down though, she thought it was inevitable. She’d done her part for evil, and she was destined to die a Slayer. What better way to go? It would make Giles, her Giles, happy. There was no way in Arashamahar that she was going to let Liz die when she could help it, even if she had to die herself. She’d had enough of dying before her offspring. She’d had enough of the immortal life she’d been living. It was truly time to be a slayer again. It was time for Erixel to exit stage right and for Elizabeth to take the stage again. Yep, it was a corny analogy. William was the poet in the family. Buffy rolled over and toyed with a blond curl on Spike’s head. It reminded her of Christopher’s hair when he was a boy. She wondered if Liz had had blond curls when she was born. With a groan, Spike rolled towards his mate and planted a kiss on her neck, on the bite marks that lived there. “It’s time to be getting back to the house,” he said with a hint of regret. With a sigh, Buffy nodded and stood, gathering her clothes. “We should patrol. Liz is probably in research mode, neglecting the baddies roaming in the cemeteries again,” noted Buffy. Only a few minutes later, Spike and Buffy were walking one of the various cemeteries of Sunnydale, hands clasped. Suddenly Spike stopped, and stood motionless as he sniffed the air. “What?” asked Buffy. “Angel’s here,” came his response. “Great,” Buffy commented sarcastically. “Do we have to talk to him?” “Probably not, luv,” he said seriously. “He’ll be here for Liz. Star crossed lovers those two.” “Ewww,” noted Buffy. “He’s way old for her.” Spike looked at her funny. “Oh come on! Dru was only seventeen years older than you. You are only ten years older than me. Angel’s like two hundred years older than Liz.” “And Anya was only 1000 and some odd years older than the boy,” observed Spike. “Hey, no one said I was all happy about that match either. Besides, Angel’s got Dru to look after. He doesn’t have time to dally with Liz.” “The big poofter probably thinks he’s offering help or some such thing. Never knows when he’s not needed.” Buffy and Spike resumed their trek and passed closer to a pyramid like structure. “He went down there,” noted Spike. “Liz is down there too.” Buffy pulled him away from the pyramid. “I don’t want her thinking we are stalking her.” “Not stalking luv,” corrected Spike, raising his eyebrow. “Checking up on the poofter.” With a shrug, Buffy followed her mate down into the temple and stopped just behind a pillar. The sounds of fighting filled the air. Buffy stepped forward as if to join in, when Angel’s voice cut through the sound of kicks and punches. Spike pulled her back behind the pillar. “You are so gonna lose.” Buffy didn’t have to think hard on just whom Liz was fighting. She gritted her teeth and cursed herself for not doing away with the preacher man when she had a chance in the vineyard. “God, I’ve missed watching this,” noted the elder vampire. Buffy watched as her mate rolled his eyes at Angel’s comment. She could tell that he really wanted to make a comment, but doing so would give them away. There was a loud thump. “See?” came Liz’s voice. “Under control.” Buffy turned to her mate and wished that she was elsewhere. There was no reason to intrude on Liz’s Angel time. “Well, at least you could tell me you’re glad to see me,” chastised Angel. The sounds of kissing filled the temple. It was really time to go, Buffy thought, but Spike was standing planted to the spot. With a tug, Buffy pulled him from behind the pillar and out into the night air. “I can’t believe you are just going to let them go at it!” raged Spike. “He’s probably been shaggin’ Dru for months and here he is in all his hair gelled glory, gonna shag Liz.” “I may not like it Spike, but I am not going to dictate who she can love if she wants. It’s not my business. Do you think I like the idea that Liz is kissing someone who killed my father? Or the thing that made the thing that turned you? I don’t like it, but the last time someone said to me that I couldn’t love someone, I fell in love with him anyway. From what I know of Liz, it’s the same way.” Buffy stepped away from her mate and walked further into the shadows. “I just hope she finds out about him by herself.” _________________________ tbc..

Chapter #49 - The Liz Taylor Collection

Disclaimer: I blame Kennedy on Joss. Author’s note: Some dialogue taken from ‘Chosen’ Thanks to BTL for the great beta! _________________________ Chapter 49: The Liz Taylor Collection Buffy wanted to be far, far away when Angel and Liz emerged from the pyramid. Spike, however, was being a stick in the mud. He wanted to confront the poofter about why he was back in Sunnydale when he had Dru to take care of in LA. Spike never knew when to let things lie. Sure enough, Liz and Angel came out of the pyramid, not hand in hand like Spike was expecting but in an earnest conversation. Liz was holding a file folder like it held the secrets of the universe. Buffy pulled Spike away from the pair and behind another crypt, far enough away to still hear what was going on but not to be seen. Buffy didn’t like spying on Liz, but Spike wouldn’t be happy with anything less. “I’ll have the guys go through this, see if there’s anything new. Reliable source?” asked Liz of her vampire companion. “Not remotely,” was Angel’s answer. “Any port in an apocalypse,” Liz noted wryly. “I brought something else as well,” continued Angel, removing something from an inner pocket of his jacket. Buffy peered around the corner of the crypt to see what it was that this murderer was giving to Liz. Angel held out the item for Liz to inspect. The amulet dangled from its silver chain, the jewel sparkling in the moonlight. “I can already tell you, I have nothing that goes with that,” Liz remarked. “It’s not for you,” stated Angel simply. “’Splainy?” asked the slayer. “I don’t know everything,” he started. “It’s very powerful and probably very dangerous. It has a purifying power...Cleansing power...possibly scrubbing bubbles. The translation is...anyway, it bestows strength to the right person who wears it.” “And the right person is?” asked Liz questioned, taking the amulet from his a hand. “Someone ensouled but stronger than human. A champion. As in me,” answered Angel smugly. From behind the crypt, both Spike and Buffy fought the urge to laugh out loud. Angel was no champion in their minds. Far from it in fact. But on the other hand, Buffy was pressed to think of just who would wear the amulet. Three names popped into her head. Faith, Liz, and herself. All slayers, all ensouled. “Or me,” continued Liz. “No. I don’t know nearly enough about this to risk you wearing it. Besides, you’ve got that real cool axe thing going for you,” noted Angel. Buffy silently agreed with Angel on that point. She wasn’t going to risk Liz to any magical amulet thing to save the world. Faith on the other hand... “So you’re going to be with me in this?” Liz asked Angel. “Shoulder to shoulder. I’m yours,” answered the elder vampire. “No,” stated Liz softly. “No what?” “No. You’re not going to be in this fight,” answered Liz. Buffy felt a tug on her hand. Spike had had enough of listening to the two former lovers prattle on about mystical do dads. With a shrug of her shoulders she gave into his wish to confront his grandsire. They stepped out from behind the crypt and started walking towards the pair. “Why the hell not?” Angel asked, getting angrier as the seconds passed, casting an eye at the advancing couple. “Because I can’t risk you,” Liz replied honestly looking down at the ground, aware now of Spike and Buffy’s presence in the cemetery, but not willing to let the subject she was on with Angel go. “You need me in this.” “No, I need you gone.” Spike and Buffy were standing just off to the side, as if waiting for the conversation to end. “Why?” “If I lose...If this thing gets past Sunnydale...then it’s days, maybe hours, before the rest of the world goes. I need a second front and I need you to run it.” “Okay, that’s one reason. What’s the other?” asked Angel waiting for some juicy tid bit to come out. “There is no other,” Liz stated simply. She looked up from the ground and smiled at Buffy and Spike. “Out for patrol?” “Thought we’d take a gander at all the baddies in the cemeteries tonight. Didn’t know we’d find this piece of scum,” noted Buffy with a saccharine smile. She looked Angel in the eye with just the tiniest bit of hatred. “How’s Drusilla, Angelus?” asked Spike with purpose. Liz turned sharply towards Angel and glared. “Drusilla?” the Slayer asked. “She’s human now, all souled up and everything,” informed Buffy. “And living at the Hyperion with Angel.” “Didn’t the witch tell you when she got back from LA?” asked Spike. “No,” answered Liz. “And you didn’t volunteer that information either!” She pouted at Spike. “It didn’t come up before.” “So all this time you were shacked up with Drusilla and you think that you can swoop in here with all the kissing business and what? Have a little slayer on the side?” Liz was mad now. “You know what? Go! Go be a second front for the apocalypse but you better hope that I die, ‘cause if I come out of this thing alive I’m going to kick your sorry ass back to hell.” “Liz! Hold on, you are jumping to conclusions!” Angel tried to defend himself. “Really? Maybe I have to jump to conclusions sometimes. I don’t get told all the important information. Like you shacking up with Dru. Is that how you lost your soul this time?” Instead of answering, Angel took a step away from her. “I can’t talk to you when you are angry like this. If you would just calm down we can talk about this rationally, like adults.” Buffy knew that Angel wasn’t going to win this argument anytime soon, and that she and Spike really didn’t need to be here for it. She tugged at his hand and he nodded, his smiling face telling her that he was pleased as punch that Liz was letting the poofter have it. _________________________ Buffy and Spike returned to the house hand in hand, hoping that Angel had buggered off once and for all. The house was much the same as they had left it,. Willow, Dawn, Anya and Giles were researching, the potentials were watching movies, Faith was carving stakes, and Robin was sitting annoyed in the corner waiting for something to happen. Xander and Andrew were in the kitchen arguing about what to have for dinner. The pair of demons greeted those that cared and began to head down to their basement cot, only to open the basement door and be interrupted by Liz barging into the house, her anger still full force from her talk with Angel. “Did you find out anything about the scythe?” asked Willow getting up from the dining room table. Xander walked into the dining room looking for new news and possibly trying to get away from Andrew. Buffy and Spike followed behind, not willing to miss any of the fallout from the fight with Angel. Liz put down the scythe on the table and stepped away. Buffy fleetingly wondered if Angel was dust or if he’d gotten away with his unlife. Having an argument with a slayer holding that weapon? Not the most brilliant move the former Scourge of Europe made. “It slices, dices, and makes julienne preacher,” explained Liz. “Caleb?” asked Giles. “I cut him in half,” Liz explained. Willow, erupted into a smile. “Well all right!” “He had that coming,” added Anya. “Hey, party in my eye socket and everyone’s invited,” added Xander. Everyone turned to look at Xander for a moment, unsure as to how to respond to that comment. “Sometimes I shouldn’t say words,” he mumbled. Liz looked away from Xander and at Buffy for a moment. “Can I talk to you?” the Slayer asked. Buffy nodded and released Spike’s hand. Without a word, Buffy followed Liz to the back porch. It seemed that this place had become their place. The air around them was warm and fresh, the night sky was full of stars and buzzing insects, but Buffy knew that it wasn’t about the weather that they were going to talk about. They were going to talk about the amulet. “Did you see what he gave me?” Liz asked, getting straight to the point. Buffy nodded. “I did. Shiny ugly piece of the Elizabeth Taylor collection.” “Right, and did you hear who gets to wear it?” continued Liz. Buffy nodded again. “Someone with a soul, who’s not human.” “So that means there are three of us in this house that can wear it. Me, you, and Faith. I have to make a choice, and whatever choice I make, it’s going to affect the people I love and care for. I want to know that you’ll take care of Dawn for me. You are the closest thing she has to family. You have to protect her, get her out of danger. You said you’d take her away at the last minute. I think this is it. I’ve got an idea and it’s going down tomorrow night.” “You don’t want me to fight by your side?” Buffy questioned. “If you do, who’ll take care of Dawn?” Liz countered. “Well I was thinking Spike actually. I don’t want him part of this fight either. He’s crazy flammable, if you remember.” “So you were going to send Dawn away with Spike?” asked Liz. “No, it was more of a, pushing them through a portal kind of thing I was thinking of.” Liz nodded. “And I was thinking that you should let me wear the ugly gem,” added Buffy. “What?” Liz asked, more than a little shocked. “Hear me out. I’ve got a whole rational explanation. First, you have three slayers to choose from. I’m not going to let my great great granddaughter risk her life again for an ungrateful world. You’ve done it too many times already. I figure maybe I should risk my life this time. I’ve never done it before. It could be fun. Faith is young yet, and she needs to actually live part of her life, outside of prison, before she gives it up for any world saveage. ‘Sides I think you’d be really miffed if she ends up being a martyr for the cause.” Liz nodded at that. “As much as I’d like to stick around for you, Dawn, and Spike, the truth of it is, that Dawn needs you more than she needs me. I am not going to let her lose her sister. So you can just forget about wearing the god awful bit of jewellery my dear.” “You seem so convinced that it’s going to kill you,” noted Liz sadly. “Yeah, well I have sceptical thoughts about saving the world and getting off scott free. I don’t trust Angelus and I certainly don’t trust ugly amulets provided by Angelus,” explained Buffy. Liz laughed a bit. “I don’t blame you there.” “Your plan, whatever it is, I’m on board. I’ve been around long enough to know when someone’s a real leader, and you are it Elizabeth. Don’t let the rest of them pull you down or make you question your decisions. You are the Slayer, not them.” “Thanks,” noted Liz with a small blush. “Now all I have to do is pull it off.” _________________________ The core Scoobies, Buffy, Spike, and Faith stood, or sat in various locations about the room, each one shocked in some way at Liz’s plan. With the voice of a small child, Liz finally piped up. “What do you think?” “That depends,” started Xander. “Are you in any way kidding?” “You don’t think it’s a good idea?” asked Liz, unsure of herself and her idea. “It’s pretty radical, Z,” noted Faith. “It’s a lot more than that. Liz, what you said, it flies in the face of everything we’ve ever...of what every generation has done in the fight against evil,” intoned Giles. “I think it’s bloody brilliant.” “Thanks Giles,” responded Liz. “What about you?” Liz turned to ask Buffy. “I’m proud of you,” whispered Buffy sincerely. “Whoa, hey!” exclaimed Willow. “Not to poop on the party here but I’m the guy who’s going to have to pull this thing off.” “It is beaucoup d’mojo,” Faith commented. “This goes beyond anything I’ve ever done. It’s a total loss of control and not in a nice, wholesome, ‘my girlfriend has a pierced tongue,’ kind of way,” Willow prattled on. “Oh, now I have a mental image in my brain,” whined Buffy. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could do it,” explained Liz. “I’m not sure I’m stable enough,” added Willow in a small voice. “You can do this, Willow. We’ll get the coven on the line and we’ll find out how they can help,” offered Giles. “Oh!” interjected Dawn. “Pierced tongue.” “And it’s time for the Nibblet to do something else,” noted Spike stepping towards Dawn and ushering her out of the room. Buffy looked fondly at the members of her family and wondered just how they would take to being stranded in New York while this went down. She had a rather large hunch that they weren’t going to like it at all. “Come on,” directed the mistress of Arashamahar to her former fiancé. “Let’s go assemble the cannon fodder.” “That’s not what we’re calling them sweetie,” responded the carpenter. “Not to their faces,” explained Anya. “What? Am I insensitive?” _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #50 - Light and Tears

Disclaimer: I blame Kennedy on Joss. Author’s note: Some dialogue taken from ‘Chosen’ _________________________ Chapter 50: Light and Tears As the potentials, Scoobies, and various random demon fighters fought the inability to sleep upstairs, playing Dungeons and Dragons, or tossed and turned in their beds, worried about the battle that Liz was leading them into the next day, Buffy took the time to pull her mate aside. She’d wanted to leave this to the last minute. She’d wanted to make sure that he couldn’t protest, but she had too much respect for him to leave him in the dark, to push him into New York and leave him there with no way to find out what was happening. Tomorrow they were opening the seal and it was very likely that she wouldn’t survive. Leaving Dawn with a few potentials watching an upbeat teen flick in the living room, Buffy led her mate down to their basement, a serious look on her face. “I know I’m not going to like this. Am I pet?” he asked once Buffy closed the basement door behind her. Buffy walked down the stairs slowly to press herself into the tepid body heat of her mate. “No , you aren’t,” she admitted softly. “Out with it then,” he ordered. Buffy sighed. “I want you to take Dawn and go. To New York. Away from all this. Now.” Spike moved Buffy’s body away from him and looked at her curiously. “You know I wanted to be part of this,” he stated, shocked that she would want him gone. “You know me well enough to realise that.” Buffy nodded. “I know, but I am afraid Spike,” she admitted as she clutched his hand in hers. “More afraid than I’ve ever been before, and it’s because of you and Dawn. I need you safe, for my piece of mind more than anything else. I can’t go into battle with you, being in love with you, and be effective. And Liz needs me, or at least my soul, in this fight.” “Run that by me again?” he asked her. “That bit about your soul. You don’t have a soul. Demon, love.” “Remember Angel gave Liz this thing,” she started, reaching into her pocket and drawing out the amulet. It started to twirl on its chain. “Has to be worn by someone not human, but with a soul. That’s me, in this situation.” “Yeah, the poofter wanted to wear it for his sweetie pie,” muttered Spike bitterly. “He didn't seem to happy with the way it turned out,” Buffy added. “But at least Liz had the good sense to tell him no. I have to wear it, no one else can. And if no one else can, than I can’t be the one to take Dawn away from all this. She needs someone to protect her while this battle is raging. The Immortal could choose this moment to go after her. I need you with her now. Please, Spike?” Spike tore his eyes away from her for a moment, making it really hard for Buffy to read his emotions. She needed him to agree to this. She needed this more than she needed to grant vengeance wishes. “Couldn’t demon girl take her?” asked Spike turning his eyes back to Buffy. The emotions in his eyes had always been easy to read. This time they were telling her that this was a last ditch effort to avoid the inevitable. “Anya’s pretty adamant about protecting the whelp,” noted Buffy. “Waste of bloody skin if you ask me,” noted Spike mumbled, before giving a big sigh. “Alright, love,” he conceded. Buffy felt the tension release from her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around his chest and hugged him. “Thank you,” the demon whispered gratefully. “You just get yourself out of that bloody hole in one piece,” he ordered, his lips in her hair as he held onto her just as equally tight. “When do we go?” “Now, let me wake up Anya.” The pair mounted the stairs and walked into the dining room hand in hand. Anya was sitting next to the group playing Dungeons and Dragons, snoring peacefully. Buffy tapped her friend on the shoulder, waking her instantly but startling the mistress of Arashamahar into her demon visage. “Who interrupts the sleep of the mighty Anyanka?” she bellowed instinctively. “Uh, the mighty Erixel,” answered Buffy with a laugh. “Can I borrow you, boss?” “Oh,” started Anya, looking around the table at the interrupted gamers. “Okay, this game was boring anyway.” Anya stood from her seat and brushed down her wrinkled skirt. Buffy beckoned Anya towards the living room. Inside, the potentials were still watching movies, but fortunately Dawn had passed out, her brown hair spread out on a couch cushion. Quietly, and hoping not to attract too much attention, Spike scooped Dawn up off the couch. Buffy opened a portal, scorching the hardwood floor of the Summers’ home. The demons and the key entered the portal, the quiet protests of the potentials that were awake being abruptly cut off by the closing of the portal. Once they were on the other side, Buff opened another portal. The group stepped into the portal once more and found themselves in a very dusty house. The window’s had been boarded up and sheets covered the furniture. None of them, save Dawn who had never been there, had been in this particular house for decades. “Spike, can you take Dawn up to Annette’s room?” asked Buffy sadly. The vampire nodded and headed up the stairs. “What are you doing?” Anya finally asked, either because she’d finally woken up or because she realised that this was an appropriate time. “Dawn and Spike aren’t going to be part of this fight. And I need you to get me back to Sunnydale,” explained Buffy. “You can teleport yourself back,” stated Anya with her hands on her hips indignantly. “I have to fight this one as a Slayer, Anya. I’m giving Spike my pendant.” “What!” stage whispered Anya. “You can’t do that! I forbid it!” Buffy rolled her eyes. “Am I going to listen to you? I know no one else better to entrust my pendant to.” “You...you could die!” moaned Anya revealing why she really didn’t want Buffy to go pendant free. “And I probably will,” admitted Buffy. “See I don’t want to hear that!” exclaimed Anya, her voice rising to new levels of hysteria. “Shhhh!” admonished Buffy, intensely aware that if Dawn woke up before they were gone that it would be really difficult to get away without a scene. “Bloody hell demon girl, you are going to wake the Nibblet!” said Spike growled adding his own caution. He took Buffy’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Are you okay with this insanity?” asked Anya, directing her question to Spike. “Not really,” he admitted. “But then someone’s gonna have to take care of the Bit when you all get yourselves decapitated,” he noted bitterly. “Some of us aren’t going to be decapitated,” the mistress of Arashamahar snapped back. “Some of us are going to let themselves be killed in stupid human ways. Maybe one of those ubervamps will drain your blood! Or maybe they’ll just rip you to shreds!” “Anya you are always just such an optimist,” Buffy remarked, effectively putting an end to Anya’s ranting. Buffy let Spike’s hand go and reached up towards her pendant. The glittering red stone had been the only constant thing in her life since she was elevated. She lifted the chain up and off, holding it at arms length towards her mate. She really wished that she’d have to opportunity to see it again and the man she was giving it to again. As the chain slid from her hand to his, both the vampire and the slayer missed Anya’s silent ‘Wish granted.’ _________________________ Anya and Buffy arrived back in Sunnydale just as the sun rose over the deserted town. Inside 1630 Revello Drive, the potentials were already brandishing weapons. It was time to go. Liz stood in the middle of the living room holding the scythe, a grim look of determination on her face. “Let’s go,” she said curtly, brushing past the demon and the slayer in the doorway. _________________________ The group entered Sunnydale High, the signs of its abandonment evident. “Welcome to Sunnydale High,” said Robin Wood unnecessarily as they walked through the doors. “There’s no running in the halls, no yelling, no gum chewing. Apart from that, there’s only one rule: if they move, kill them.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “Ok,” started Liz, taking charge. “Potentials in the basement. Follow Faith and Buffy.” Buffy nodded but instead of going immediately to her post, she turned to Anya and gave the demon a hug. “If it all starts to go wrong, teleport yourself out of here,” Buffy whispered to her friend. “I don’t want you decapitated either.” Anya nodded, returning the hug. “If you have to go to the bathroom, it’s to your left,” came Xander’s voice behind the pair of hugging friends. “If you don’t have to do to the bathroom, picture what you’re about to face. Better to go now.” Buffy disengaged from Anya and turned down towards the basement. It was time to get this show on the road. _________________________ Buffy stepped into the mouth of hell along with the potentials and the other two slayers, the amulet around her neck. It was starting to worry her a little that she was feeling nothing from the ugly thing around her neck. She’d worn a magical amulet around her neck for centuries, she knew what a mystical amulet was supposed to feel like. This one felt like it was busted. Buffy pulled Liz aside once they were all into the cave. “I don’t want to worry, you, but I don’t think this doohickey of Angel’s is working,” noted Buffy in a whisper. “I’m not worried,” intoned Liz. “Really? It’s not working and you aren’t worried?” asked Buffy. “I’m not worried,” stated Liz again. The group stepped up towards the cliff before them, lights of a dozen torches illuminating the cavern below them and revealing the army of ubervamps they were about to attack. “I’m not worried,” Liz repeated, her voice losing the calm edge she had once had. “Really? ‘Cause I’m flashing back to Xander’s whole bathroom speech,” snapped one potential. “Liz...” whispered another. “I’m not worried,” Liz repeated again. “As long as Willow can work her spell before they...” Liz didn’t have time to get her sentence out before the Turok-han below noticed the intruders. “...see us.” And the battle was on. Suddenly all around them, the potentials stirred. BUffy hoped that Willow’s had already taken effect. “These guys are dust,” noted one potential. As the battle raged, the mêlée and chaos was interrupted slightly by the appearance of Kennedy, carrying the scythe. “Liz!” shouted the nasty potential as she threw the scythe to her general. As the Turok-han noticed that there was another person to attack, Kennedy readied herself for the fight. “I could get used to this!” she giggled, smashing a Turok-han into the ceiling. Buffy rolled her eyes at Kennedy’s antics as she snapped the neck of another ubervamp. Suddenly there was an incredible heat coming from the amulet around her neck. Ignoring what was going on around her, she touched the jewel, the heat burning her hand. “Liz! Whatever this thing does, I think it’s...” Buffy’s voice was cut off by the scream that issued from her lips. It was a pain that was more intense than the fall that had claimed her ability to walk. On the peripheral of her senses, Buffy heard Liz issue commands to the troops, unaware of what was going on. Tears prickling at the edge of her eyes, the pain more intense than she had anticipated, she had one thought in her mind. That she was going to get through this to see Spike again. Buffy stumbled back from the pain, her back coming into contact with the wall of the cavern. The way that the pain was coursing through her, Buffy knew that it was going to get worse before it got better. “Oh bloody hell!” she screamed as another wave of pain enveloped her. White light from the amulet suddenly shot up towards the ceiling, punching a hole in the rock above her. The pain subsided but now she couldn’t move. Stuck in the ring of orange light, Buffy’s eyes sought out the figure of her granddaughter in the chaos of the battle before her. “Liz!” exclaimed Buffy. Before Liz could react the light from the amulet shot out in every direction, frying the Turok-han instantly and bringing down the ceiling. This is cool, Buffy thought, suddenly finding herself face to face with Liz. The former potentials streamed by fleeing the falling rocks, no longer needing to fight the ubervamps. Buffy smiled as Liz’s eyes locked with hers. “It’s time for you to go, Elizabeth,” said Buffy sweetly, the orange light radiating from her body. “No! No, you’ve done enough. You could still...” started Liz. “No, that’s not how this works. You knew that when you gave me this thing. You wouldn’t leave without making sure that it was over. That’s what I’m doing. Captain goes down with the ship, I’m the captain now, you’re the general, you get to live another day.” “Liz, come on!” shouted Faith from the top of the stairs. “You’ve got to go,” said Buffy firmly. “Thank you for being my grandmother,” said Liz, looking into the green eyes of Buffy. Buffy smiled back. “I loved every minute you let me be one to you. Take care of Dawn. And don’t let Spike walk into the sunrise for me, ‘kay?” Liz nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek, before she was startled by another rock crashing down next to her. “Time to to go, Elizabeth,” Buffy cried, the power coursing through her turning intensely painful once again. With a nod and a smile, Liz took off towards the entrance of the high school. Looks like I’m actually going to die this time, thought Buffy as she felt the world go dark. A sense of calm passed over her as she realised that she had finally saved the world like she had been meant to as a slayer a century ago. The funny sensation lasted longer than she expected, like she was trapped somewhere, dark and hard. Time stretched on for a long while. _________________________ Spike was closing the door to Dawn’s bedroom as he felt Buffy’s connection to him fade. “Buffy,” he whispered softly, refusing to let himself succumb to tears. She was gone and he felt so empty. Outside the sky was clear, stars were coming out into view. The world was safe and he had a feeling it was all because of Buffy. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #51 - Now that is just weird

Disclaimer: Not mine, yadda yadda yadda Author’s note: Much huggles to BTL who beta’s magnificently. _________________________ Chapter 51: Now that is just weird Black, dark, cold, and a sense of nothingness. That was all it was. And it seemed to be passing very slowly, if it was passing at all. This certainly wasn’t the death that she thought she was going experience. Nothing in all her years alive prepared her for this. Anglicans’ didn’t believe in Limbo, so the belief system she had relied on in her childhood didn’t help her with this scenario. Suddenly she felt pulled towards a light. She thought that that was a bit funny though, ‘cause she certainly didn’t think she’d be off to heaven, given all of her vengeance demonness. When Buffy finally found herself in an actual place with lights, and walls, and furniture, she realised that it wasn’t heaven, and it wasn’t hell. It wasn’t good though. “Angelus?” asked Buffy, her eyes wide as she glimpsed the first person in her view. The brooding vampire looked at the former vengeance demon with shock. “Elizabeth?” he asked, uncertain. Buffy looked around at where she was standing. The office like interiors didn’t give anything away. “Where am I?” “Wolfram and Hart, my office,” explained Angelus, still confused. “And you do remember I’m called Angel now?” he continued. “Huh,” intoned Buffy as she started to walk around the room, ignoring his question. “And just how did I get here? What happened in Sunnydale? How long have I been gone? Was I dead? Who raised me?” “Slow down,” ordered Angelus. Buffy turned and put her hands on her hips. “I don’t want to slow down. I’m a little bit confused here. I want answers.” Her voice was only slightly hysterical. Angelus motioned her to sit down on a nearby chair and sat down on the edge of his desk. Buffy refused to sit. “Spill already.” “Well, Sunnydale is a big crater. I think you did that. Liz was broken up that you’d gone. It’s been three months since it happened. The survivors, they’re in Europe. I don’t know why you are here.” Buffy nodded as Angelus spoke. Her mind drifted as the vampire went on about what he was doing at Wolfram and Hart as if to justify his actions having an office in the law firm. She didn’t care. She had one main thought on her mind. Spike. _________________________ Across the ocean Spike looked out his current home’s front window and at Dawn, who was chatting with some boy in front of the house. His mind had been focused on what they were saying and resisting the urge to go out there and rip the boy’s head off for looking at his Nibblet like she was a piece of meat. Dawn had been furious when she’d woken up that morning three months ago. She’d screamed and cried until she was red and had no tears left. It was only when Anya had appeared and ranted about the fact that they didn’t have a phone installed in the house, and oh by the way they won, that the fighting between them stopped. That’s when they knew for sure that Buffy was gone. He’d done what Buffy had wanted, taken care of Dawn, set her up at school and the teen had actually started making friends again. They hadn’t stayed at Buffy’s house though. It was too close to Buffy’s life. It was too close to Christopher’s. Spike moved them to the one place that he thought the Immortal would never look for Dawn. Drusilla’s hometown, in the house where Dru grew up. It was intensely weird. Dawn didn’t seem to mind much. Liz was in Italy, phoned every night, letting Dawn know how she was doing, but not wanting the responsibility of looking after her sister again. Staring out at the boy, making eyes at Dawn, Spike’s attention was suddenly caught by a strange sensation, a feeling that he hadn’t felt since Buffy’d died. His gaze drifted from his great great great granddaughter to the sepia photograph of Buffy that he had sitting on the mantle piece of the parlour. “Buffy?” he whispered into the empty room. “Spike?” he heard back in his head, the feeling that she was smiling back at him lingering. “Buggering hell!” he shouted. It was the house that drove Dru batty, not bloody Angelus. _________________________ Buffy tried to reach out through her bond with Spike to make contact. He was there on the other end, but he didn’t believe that it was her. Buffy looked back at Angelus and squinted menacingly. “Where is Spike?” she asked. “I don’t know,” answered the vampire. “No one knows. He and Dawn disappeared. No one can get in touch with them.” Buffy rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe you. Liz has to know where her sister is.” “Liz and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms,” admitted Angelus. Buffy smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. But I need to get in touch with her. I’m sure if you have an office in Wolfram and Hart, you can get her phone number. Isn’t there some demon that you can send?” Angelus groaned and reached for his phone. “Harmony? Can you bring me Liz’s number?” “So how’s Dru?” asked Buffy as she waited for this Harmony person. “Fine,” he answered curtly. “Hmm, ever the great conversationalist. I think I had more in depth conversations with you when you were trying to kill me,” she noted. The door of the office opened and in walked a blond, chewing gum. She held out a scrap of paper to Angelus, who took it, looked it over, as if confirming it was in fact Liz’s number, and handed it to Buffy. “Here,” he spat, obviously hoping that this would get his former nemesis out of his overly gelled hair. “Thanks,” responded Buffy reaching for the paper. Unfortunately something happened that neither one of them had been anticipating. Buffy’s hand went right through the paper, and Angelus’ hand. “Oh this can’t be good,” Buffy moaned with a pout. _________________________ Fred Burkel was a nice enough girl, pretty, unassuming and very genteel, but if she tried sticking one more thing through Buffy’s non-corporeal body she was going to lose it. Angelus had called on his scientist friend to find out why ‘Elizabeth’ was pass through-y. And that was why Buffy found herself in the lab with Fred. “I just can’t figure it out,” said the scientist apologetically. “I really wish that I could, but...” Buffy’s ears perked up at the word wish. She’d been out of that damn amulet for hours and she’d hadn’t even thought about Anya. “You just made me remember something,” explained Buffy to the woman wondering why Buffy was suddenly happy. “Blessèd be the name of Anyanka. I come in supplication. I bend as the reed in the flow of the rippling wave of vengeance. I come in the name of vengeance to call upon its mistress. Blessèd be the name of Anyanka, the name whispered in the name of revenge, vendetta, justice, retribution, vengeance,” Buffy chanted, surprising Fred. With a puff of dramatic smoke, Anya appeared in front of Buffy with her demon face to greet whomever summoned her. “What?” asked Anyanka annoyed, inspecting her nails. “I was about to get laid...” Anya stopped inspecting her nails to glower at the person who had chanted at her. A look of shock passed over her face. “Erixel?” Buffy smiled and nodded, intensely happy that she had finally found one of her friends. Anyanka reached out to hug her friend, but again, Buffy’s incorporealness got in the way. The Mistress of Arashamahar passed through her friend and landed up against the lab table. Anya turned with a start. “Now that is just weird. What happened?” she asked Buffy. “I popped out of the bauble from the Liz Taylor collection and found I couldn’t touch anything!” cried Buffy, feeling sorry for herself. “I even have Liz’s phone number and and I can’t pick up the phone to call her! Anya, do you know where Spike is?” she asked pitifully. “I really don’t like this!” “I can’t figure out why she’s like this either,” noted Fred in a small voice, not really wanting to interrupt the exchange but feeling that she should contribute. She was in the room after all. All Buffy’s pent up frustrations poured out of her; she really wanted a hug. “I don’t know where Spike is,” said Anya sadly. “I could send out my minions, oh, err, demons...they don’t like to be called minions...to find them if you like. ‘Course you could get Angel to find them. He’s got the resources of Wolfram and Hart.” “He doesn’t know either,” admitted Buffy. “Spike’s got to be hiding from the Immortal. I don’t want to find them if I risk Dawn.” Anya nodded. “How is Angelus nowadays anyway?” asked Anya with innuendo dripping from her voice. Buffy cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you said you were about to get laid?” she questioned. Anya sighed. “Yes, I was. Angelus is in the past. Don’t you ever tell Xander I once screwed the brooding wonder.” “You are back with Xander?” asked Buffy, disappointment lacing her voice. “Hey! No judging. He’s mine and you pined after a vampire for a century,” retorted the Mistress of Arashamahar. “If you aren’t careful I might just smite your ass.” Buffy raised her hands in defence. “Sorry, I just am having a bad day. I wish...” “Ooh! Hold on! I can’t do it!” exclaimed Anya. “What?” spat Buffy, taken aback, blinking at her former boss. “I can’t make you solid,” explained Anya. “Hey, don’t I deserve vengeance? And hey! I’m human now! Scorned woman and all! The Immortal raped me and I don’t deserved to be solid so that I can get revenge?” asked Buffy “Yes, you do. But this whole not solid thing? I don’t know how to make you solid; it’s not in my domain. Whatever has made you this way is much more powerful than little old me.” “Little old you? Come on!” protested Buffy. “I can’t do it. Sorry, but that is the way it is,” said Anya with a shrug. “Can you at least tell me where Liz is?” asked Buffy defeated. “Italy,” answered Anya. “She’s been dating the Immortal. Now before you get all huffy, he doesn’t know who she is. I think. They met at a bar.” “So I guess it’s a bad idea to talk to Liz over then phone then,” said Buffy in a small voice. “Yep. I’d concentrate on getting all solid like again,” suggested Anya. “It’s good you aren’t dead. I’ll tell Xander. Somehow, Liz will get the info. He and Willow talk to her every once in a while.” “Thanks, I guess.” “And I’ll pop by from time to time. Until you get your pendant back, you’re free. Enjoy it!” added Anya, poofing out of the room. “So that was a vengeance demon,” noted Fred. “Thought she’d be scarier.” “I’ve known her for centuries, she is scary,” added Buffy. “Make me solid, please.” _________________________ Fred was having dinner and Buffy really needed a break from the whole poking and prodding that Fred was trying to do. Fred had invited her to the lunchroom, but Buffy had declined. She was sure that being around food that she couldn’t eat was not going to improve her mood. So she decided to roam the hallways. The last time she’d been in the offices of a Wolfram and Hart branch was when she’d found out about Noël’s death. She was certain that she was about to stumble upon something that was going to get her in trouble. No one’s going to be afraid of a former vengeance demon turned Slayer who was stuck in a not solid body. The floor that Angelus’ department inhabited was an intricate web of offices and conference rooms. Buffy passed through one door and found herself in the office of one Wesley Wyndham-Price. Buffy registered the name as she passed through the door. Her first thought was that this was one of Reagan’s offspring. But then why anyone of Reagan’s family tree would be working for an evil law firm was slightly inconceivable. Hadn’t Reagan protested Christopher’s entry into the firm? Buffy looked at Wesley Wyndham-Price and knew at once that he was a product of Reagan and Arthur. He was the spitting image of Arthur Price. “You must be Elizabeth,” he said, putting down the text he was looking at. “Angel told me you’d be in the building.” “Yes, that would be me. Elizabeth. Erixel, Buffy, I go by many names. My best friend Reagan Wyndham once named me Anne and tried to get me to be watcher. Of course it was a lot easier to infiltrate the Watcher’s Council at the turn of the century. Or, uh, the last century. I keep forgetting how old I am sometimes.” Wesley stared back at her for a moment. “You say that your best friend was Reagan Wyndham?” he asked. “I believe she was your great great grandmother?” offered Buffy. Wesley’s mouth hung open as if he was having trouble answering, only to be interrupted from not answering by a knock on the door. The two persons in the room turned towards the door. The head that peeked in from the other side was not a welcome face in Buffy’s opinion. “Drusilla.” _________________________ tbc..

Chapter #52 - The Pursuit of Solidity

Disclaimer: Joss made the characters, I’ve just made a few changes really. Author’s note: *huggles* to BTL would once again used her betaing talents on this chapter. _________________________ Buffy stared back at Drusilla in shock. She had never wanted to see the former vamp again. Drusilla stared right back at her. “You!” screamed Drusilla recognition finally dawning on her. “You vile, evil seductress!” Without warning, Drusilla flew at Buffy, claws bared. If she had been a vamp, Buffy was sure that Dru would have had her fangs out. Luckily for Buffy, she was not solid and didn’t have to worry about defending herself. Dru fell to the floor as she passed through Buffy. The former vamp started maniacally cackling. “Paper dollies ripped to pieces. The Prince will never meet the fairy princess now. The vines are too think.” Clearly the human thing is making her crazier, noted Buffy to herself. “He’ll come back to me!” she wailed. “Daddy’s gone to the dogs, and my prince, not yours, he’ll turn me back to the night. His black princess. Can’t unlive without his dark princess. The pixies hate me. Don’t like what I’ve done. All the cats are scratching, scratching for the fish.” Buffy could only stare in shock as Dru started to scratch at herself. Bits and pieces of what Drusilla said were making sense, but Buffy didn’t want more of a confrontation in trying to extract more information from her. Wesley was at his phone dialling. “Security? Sister Mary Bridget has gotten out of her room again.” Dru’s wail at being called her religious name sounded throughout the room. “I think I’ll go find Fred,” Buffy said to no one in particular, eager to escape the sounds issuing from Drusilla’s mouth. Wesley looked up from this phone call as if Buffy had pushed him off a cliff. Clearly he didn’t want to be left with the crazy former vampire. Buffy really couldn’t blame him. Incorporeal, Buffy walked down the hallways, enjoying the way she was freaking people out by passing right through them and the various doors she wanted to go through. However much fun it was, Buffy couldn’t help feeling that she was being watched. It wasn’t surprising, considering where she was. Wolfram and Hart were known for their all seeing, all knowing, all in your business way of doing business. Being a demon, it was hard to exist without hearing about the law firm’s way of doing things. Buffy walked into the lunch room to find Fred eating a taco salad and reading some scientific journal. Fred was nice and all but there were too many reasons to get the hell out of this hell hole. The crazy nun down the hall, Angelus around the corner, and her mate somewhere on another continent were just the big ones. “Give me five more minutes and I’ll be done. I’ve got a few more ideas to make you solid,” said Fred with a pleasant smile. Buffy nodded. She’d let Fred do her tests and give it another go, but at the end of the day she was leaving. She had to find Spike, let him know that she was alive. _________________________ The fact that she couldn’t teleport, couldn’t get in a car to steal it, couldn’t get on a plane or bus was just annoying, Buffy concluded as she walked eastward away from the Wolfram and Hart building that night. Fred had left her to hang around the building until morning. That idea really didn’t appeal to the slayer, turned demon, turned slayer, turned ghost. She didn’t want to walk to England either, but walking seemed like her only avenue. The sun was coming over the horizon as Buffy reached the city limits. It was curious. She wasn’t hungry or tired, but she’d been walking all night. The ghost package has some perks after all. Buffy didn’t even turn around to bid good bye to the city she’d been brought back to as she stepped over the city limits. She didn’t want to think about being stuck there any longer. And if it meant walking all the way to the eastern seaboard to leave it behind, that’s what she was going to do. Unfortunately for Buffy, her next step was not onto another section of cement but back on Angel’s desk. The former vengeance demon did a double take as she reassessed her location. It seemed terribly unfair, all that effort, all that walking only to be pulled back to the brooding wonder. “What are you doing?” asked Angel with a sneer. “Nothing I wanna be doing,” she responded, stepping out of Angel’s desk and onto the floor. “I hate you.” “The feeling is mutual,” he responded. Buffy gave him a dirty look before walking through the wall and back out into the mostly deserted hallway. It looked like she was stuck here, stuck in the same place that two people she hated more than she hated anything. Who knew how long she was going to stuck there too. It almost made her want to cry. Except she couldn’t. Ghosts apparently didn’t have functioning tear ducts. _________________________ “I’ll do anything,” she whispered to Fred as soon as the scientist came in that next morning. “Please make me solid.” Fred looked at her with sympathetic eyes. “I don’t know how much more I can try. I’m pretty tapped out at the moment,” Fred responded truthfully. “Please don’t say that!” Buffy whined. “I can’t stay here. Do you know how hard it is to stay in the same building with the man who killed your family and the woman who stole and killed the man you were going to marry? It’s torture. And frankly I do see the karma in this whole situation, but come on! I was evil for a hundred and twenty years, surely the evilest law firm in existence would cut me some slack! I’ll go back to answering vengeance spells, as soon as I get my pendant back, just please make me solid, and let me leave this god forsaken city.” The lab door swung open and a blond walked in, haughtily, like she owned the place. “Ok,” said the blond with a smile. “Eve,” greeted Fred bitterly. “Excuse me? What?” asked Buffy confused. “You want to be solid. You’re solid. The Partners never wanted you to use the amulet, it was supposed to be Angel, so they could have him under their control. Guess they underestimated the Slayer. They didn’t want you. Or rather, they want you, to keep doing what you’ve been doing for the last century. So, poof you’re solid. Congratulations. Go get your pendant. Get your vengeance on.” Buffy raised an eyebrow at the new individual that she didn’t know from a hole in the wall. “Go ahead, try it out,” offered the blond. The Slayer ghost, turned to the person she actually sorta knew waiting for some sort of explanation. “This is Eve, she’s a direct representative of the Senior partners. She usually knows things before anyone else does,” answered Fred. “I’m sure that’s really very annoying,” replied Buffy. “Yep,” replied Fred with a smile. “Are you going to check it out or not?” asked Eve, her hands on her hips and very clearly annoyed. “I guess I should, shouldn’t I,” noted Buffy giving Fred a smile. Buffy stepped up towards Eve and punched in her in the nose. As the blood streamed down Eve’s face, Buffy’s hand flew to her mouth covering a gasp. “Oh, so you mean you don’t have super powers or handy speed healing?” asked Buffy only have half seriously, half sarcastically. “Thanks for being a test subject though. Got one last question for you. If I leave LA like I tried to last night, will the amulet pull me back?” Eve shook her head, holding her nose. “No,” she responded, her voice muffled. “You are free. They didn’t want you.” A huge smile lit up Buffy’s face. She had people to find and places to see. “Well thanks for all your help then,” said the Slayer. She ignored the whimpering minion of the Senior Partners and bent down on one knee. “Blessèd be the name of Anyanka. I come in supplication. I bend as the reed in the flow of the rippling wave of vengeance. I come in the name of vengeance to call upon its mistress. Blessèd be the name of Anyanka, the name whispered in the name of revenge, vendetta, justice, retribution, vengeance,” Buffy chanted. In a puff of smoke Anya appeared again, this time with a Cosmo in her hands. “Hey you are all solid!” observed Anya, putting her magazine down on the table before her. “How’d you do it?” “I think Wolfram and Hart want me back in the vengeance fold,” Buffy responded. “I want you back in the vengeance fold!” gasped Anya as if it was some fortuitous coincidence. “All I need is my pendant and I’m back in business. Are you sure you don’t know where Spike is?” Anya shook her head. “I don’t,” Anya answered. “No one does.” Buffy nodded her head sadly. It wasn’t any different from yesterday’s information. “Take me to England then?” Buffy suggested to her friend and former boss. “Sure.” Anya picked up her magazine and opened a portal, scorching the tile floor of the lab. With a little wave at Fred, Buffy stepped into the portal and into Anya’s throne room. Around the edges of the room, demons waited for their mistress to give them orders. The noise around the room stopped once they saw Erixel step out of the portal. Clearly everyone knew about her fate and was equally surprised and worried now that she was back. Krevlin stepped out from the shadows and towards Buffy holding out a red piece of paper. “Wanna come to a party Erixel?” he asked shyly. “What are you juggling this time?” she asked. “Kittens, live kittens. Anyanka won’t come if there’s blood involved,” the demon answered. “She also won’t come if I don’t invite her mortal lover.” Buffy turned to her friend. “Xander Harris comes to parties here?” she asked. “Well he hasn’t yet, but if he doesn’t get invited than how will he feel welcome?” the mistress of Arashamahar asked. “You are a strange, strange demon,” noted Buffy. Buffy took the red piece of paper and patted Krevlin on the back, saying that she would make it if she could. She had to find her mate. Parties were not really on her radar at the moment. But first, she had to change. Leaving Anya in her throne room, Buffy walked to her lair. She hadn’t done that since Christopher had been living there. Entering into her lair, the one place in all dimensions she felt the most at home, she stalked silently to her closet, ever so glad that she wasn’t going to be stuck in the practical slaying clothes she had worn for the final battle with the First forever. Slipping into something less practical and packing up a wide selection into a suitcase, Buffy prepared herself for something she hadn’t done since before Christopher’s birth. She was going to travel, the human way. “So where do you want to be dropped?” asked Anya. “I’m going to drop you in London regardless of what you say. I’ve got a date tonight with Xander. He lives in London now. Giles is training him to be a watcher.” Buffy nodded. London was as good as any place to start looking. She just hoped that he was still in England and hadn’t gone off to other places unknown. She didn’t have a network of spies that would help her this time. _________________________ Anya left Buffy, suitcase in hand, outside the London offices of the new Watcher’s Council. The building was modern, and so unlike what Buffy had known to be the council building that it just felt wrong. Instinctually she knew that Spike wasn’t in there, though a whole bunch of slayers were. They could probably sense her presence outside too. Another Slayer probably wasn’t hot news anymore since Willow’s spell. Buffy hoped that they wouldn’t expect her to stick around. Not that she was going to give them a chance to force her. Buffy picked up the handle of her suitcase and walked towards the nearest tube stop. The first place she needed to check out was only a few minutes ride from here. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #53 - Exposition

Disclaimer: I blame Kennedy on Joss Author’s note: Beta’d by the wonderful Bloodytearsoflife. _________________________ Chapter 53 : Exposition Buffy stepped out of the tube station and glanced about her, trying to get her bearings. She had never really been able to orientate herself while underground and it took her a few seconds before being able to decide which direction to walk in. Five minutes later she stood in front of a house she not seen in years. The outward appearance did not show the fact that it was uninhabited. No doubt Wolfram and Hart had kept a grounds keeper for the house all these years. Digging into her pocket, Buffy brought out the key to the house. The key had been sitting in Arashamahar since the 70’s when it had been willed to her. This was Noël’s house, Christopher’s house. She turned the lock and stepped into the house, the dust that hung in the air immediately assailing her nostrils. Buffy sneezed. The furniture was covered with sheets, but the items that rested on the fireplace mantel of the parlour were coated in dust. Buffy didn’t need to wipe the dust from the frames to know who graced the pictures. Noël had remembered every member of her family by their picture or portrait in that room. Covered on one end of the mantel was a painted miniature of Elizabeth Underwood, age seventeen, a copy of the same one that had graced the walls of the Watcher’s Council. On the other end of the mantel was a miniature of William Fairchilde, age twenty six, a copy of the same portrait Spike kept hidden in his London home. In between were photographs, sepia, black and white, and a couple in colour of the members of the Fairchilde family: a sepia portrait of Buffy and Christopher when he was an infant; a photograph of Christopher, his wife Kristina and their three children; a black and white photo of Noël and her parents; a colour candid photo of Buffy and Noël the last time they had seen each other. The house was full of memories. Noël’s life had been cut short, and cut off from her family. She had been as eager to find her uncle and aunt as Buffy had been. Noël would have been delighted to meet Liz and Dawn. As Buffy wandered upstairs, she wished that she had had the presence of mind to tell the minions of Wolfram and Hart that she wanted the house cleaned up for her arrival. She was a client after all. Weren’t her millions under their safekeeping? Upstairs Noël’s room was just as she’d left it, and Buffy steered herself away from the room and headed towards what had been Isabella’s room. It had been cleared of Isabella’s stuff when the teen had left for parts unknown with her brother. It wouldn’t bother Buffy as much to sleep in there. Most of the remaining bedrooms held some memory. Buffy placed her suitcase in the room and headed downstairs to use the phone. She immediately dialled a number and waited to be transferred to the person she wanted to speak to. “Yeah, I know I was just in the offices of the LA branch but you are my branch,” she barked at the hapless lawyer assigned to her. “I would think that an all knowing law firm that just gave me back my solidity would realise that I wanted to go home, and that I wanted them cleaned. Yes all of them. You didn’t know where I was going? It could have been any of the four. I’m standing in my London house and it’s coated with dust! Ewww! And yes I meant four. I‘m William the Bloody‘s mate, meaning that what‘s his is mine. Yes, I want his London home cleaned too.” Buffy listened to the apologies of the lawyer on the other end of the line. “I don’t care if you were out of the loop. You had just better hope that when I get my pendant back I have forgotten about this. I’m sure there is a child somewhere who wants you to suffer.” There was an audible gulp from the lawyer on the other end of the line. “And I want a car, full tank of gas. Make it something sporty and cute. Something blue. Yes I realise that it isn’t inconspicuous! If I wanted to be inconspicuous do you think I would be living in one of my houses, yelling at my lawyer?” She hung up the phone with finality and smiled to herself. No amount of slayering had made her lose her touch. Well, verbally anyway. She knew that Spike wouldn’t have done anything so silly as to take Dawn to his London home, or the house in Kent either. The Immortal would be looking for people to start using those places. But getting the houses cleaned would send a message. That Erixel was back, in some form. Maybe it would even get back to Spike that she was alive and well. Buffy was about to head out in search of a Safeway or a Tesco for groceries, ‘cause hey, human now, when she was interrupted by the phone ringing. She raised her eyebrow curiously wondering who would be phoning her, after all the number was unlisted and had kinda not been answered in the last thirty years. “Hello?” she asked speaking into the handset. “Rixy, Giles wants to talk to you,” came Anya’s voice. “Anya! What in Arashamahar are you doing phoning me?” asked Buffy. “You think I can’t use modern technology? It was Xander’s idea. He doesn’t like all the burn marks from portals,” Anya explained. “Giles told me to tell you to get your ass back here.” “Excuse me?” asked Buffy. “Since when does the mistress of Arashamahar take orders from a watcher?” “Well seeing as you aren’t a demon and technically not my employee, I can’t make you do anything. Technically. However, you are a Slayer. That makes you an employee of the council of watchers again. Remember them? Tried to kill you?” There was some shouting in the background on Anya’s end of the line. “I’m told I shouldn’t have mentioned that. Whatever. Get back here.” “And do they expect me to teleport there?” questioned Buffy. “No silly!” the vengeance demon exclaimed. “Giles will send a car for you!” _________________________ Buffy walked into the new Watcher’s Council building, looking at everything with curiosity. “Excellent,” greeted Giles. “You are here.” “Has ‘hello’ been replaced in modern slang since I was gone?” she asked annoyed. “I didn’t think I was gone long enough for slang to have evolved to such an extent.” “Shall we retire to the conference room?” the watcher asked, politely, as if he was trying to mask his ire at being so rudely spoken to. “Or we could not. I saved the world, I thought I was free from the little Scooby gang,” continued Buffy. “Uh, you are a slayer Elizabeth,” responded Giles. “You belong with us.” “As soon as she gets her pendant back she belongs with me!” protested Anya. “I thought you were on our side?” asked the vengeance demon’s lover. “Of course I’m on your side Xander,” she placated him. “But she’s been a vengeance demon much longer than she’s been a slayer.” “She was a slayer first,” argued Willow. “But she wants to be a vengeance demon again. She doesn’t want to be your pawn,” countered Anya. “Hey!” interrupted Buffy. “The Slayer-Vengeance Demon-Slayer-Ghost-Slayer would like it if you stopped talking about her like she wasn’t here. Just what do you want with me?” Buffy asked, glaring at the watcher. “We want you to train the new slayers. We have slayers coming to us from all over the world. Liz is in Italy taking a much needed vacation, and Faith is in Cleveland protecting the Hellmouth there. We need someone with experience to do it,” he explained. “’Cause I have oh so much of that. What’s wrong with Willow’s bed buddy? The one with the tongue ring and the attitude. Why can’t she do it?” Buffy asked. The assembled Scoobies looked at one another, as if waiting for someone else to speak. “Did someone finally give her the old heave ho?” asked Buffy hopefully. “She uh, tried to stake Spike in his sleep. Dawn uh...” started Xander, looking at Willow. “Dawn sent her to another dimension, accidentally,” finished Willow sadly. “Dawn did what?” asked Buffy. “She opened a dimensional gate and sent Kennedy into it. We don’t know what dimension she’s in,” supplied Anya happily. “I’ve tried to find out where she is,” continued Willow. “This was just after we arrived in England. Dawn, it seems, was rather angry that Kennedy decided to stake her guardian,” finished Giles. “Well yeah!” exploded Buffy. “Will you consider the offer?” pressed the watcher. Buffy took a moment to consider it. She didn’t want to. That was that. She had plans and they didn’t involve being ordered about by a new council or training up little slayers she didn’t give a fig’s ass about. “Sorry, but I have a vampire to find,” she said with finality. Buffy turned on her heel and strode out of the building without looking back. _________________________ She was secretly delighted that Dawn had been the one to protect Spike. The extent of Dawn’s key powers were scary, true, but that was par for the course with their family. What could you expect from the progeny of a vampire and a vengeance demon/slayer? Frankly she was surprised that no one else in the family was supernaturally inclined. A mystical key and a slayer was enough. Buffy headed down the streets of London with one particular goal in mind. She wasn’t going back to Noël’s house right away; she had to see his house for herself. If Spike and Dawn had been in London when the others had come over perhaps they had stayed at Spike’s London house before moving on. Perhaps they had left a clue. Buffy walked into the house to see that the cleaners that Wolfram and Hart had hired had just arrived. The four women looked normal enough, but Buffy’s underused slayer sense told her that they were far from human. As they removed their equipment from the boot of their car, Buffy went in search of clues that Spike and Dawn had been there. Walking through the house she had first seen as a girl, she remarked at how little it had changed from those days over a century ago. Much like Noël’s house, the furniture was covered in sheets and a thick layer of dust coated everything, though the dust was thicker here, there were places where the dust had been rubbed off entirely. So someone had been there recently. Buffy walked up the stairs to the second floor, eager to inspect the bedrooms. Spike’s mother’s room was untouched, which didn’t surprise her in the least. Spike had issues with his mother’s demise. No doubt her room brought back memories that he didn’t want to explore. His own room provided the most evidence that someone had lived there recently, even if it was for a short time. The sheets on the bed were unmade, there was a rumpled black shirt on the floor, discarded, and an empty cigarette pack lay in the waste bin. Spike had slept here. Buffy walked out of the room and into the room of Spike’s long dead sister, hoping to find evidence of Dawn in the house. Sure enough, there were strands of long brown hair gracing the pillowcase on the bed, so long neglected. But where had they gone next? Buffy stumbled down to the main floor again, and into the kitchen, expecting to find used blood bags and the remnants of chicken wings in the bin. What she did find astonished her. On the fridge (and yes there was a fridge, probably new when it was installed in the 70’s) was a newspaper clipping of the bomb that killed Noël. One phrase was underlined. “The victim’s families can rest assured that we will get to this bottom of this atrocity,” said a spokesman for Scotland Yard. “We can only hope that there will be an end soon, and that the slain can rest in peace.” Was it a clue? Buffy asked herself. The cleaners burst through the door, carrying buckets and mops, apologizing for interrupting. Buffy shook her head, indicating that there was no need. She’d gotten what she came for here. She knew where they had gone next. _________________________ The trains in England hadn’t improved much in later years. They were still boring, and painted odd colours. The seat in which she currently sat was a faded blue that was probably the height of fashion when it had been chosen, sometime in the 1980’s. She presented her ticket to the steward and laughed a little at the two girls that were hiding in the loo, trying to get a free ride. As the English countryside flashed by, she wondered just how the village in which her country house was located in had changed. She hadn’t actually been there in a century. Not since Annette was taken. Not since she and Christopher had to live in Arashamahar. Buffy curled up into the corner of the seat staring blankly at the window, not really seeing. Would she find Spike and Dawn? Would it be safe for her to stay with them? Would Spike want her to be a vengeance demon again? Would Dawn? Did she really want to go back to cursing unsuspecting parents? Her life had had so many twists and turns recently. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do. Except find Spike and her pendant. Spike and her pendant. I guess those are really my priorities, she concluded. Spike made her heart safe. The pendant made her life safe. But the realisation that everything else was secondary was frightening. She thought, in some small way, she had changed. If it was between my pendant and Dawn’s life, what would I choose? she asked herself. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #54 - Churches and Graveyards

Disclaimer: La, la, la, can’t hear you ! *sigh* I don’t own them. Author’s note: Thanks to Bloodytearsoflife for the great slayer dream idea and for the great betaing. _________________________ Chapter 54: Churches and Graveyards The train station was all glass and concrete, very different from the one she remembered from her youth. Stepping off the train, the terrain looked familiar, but not. The sounds, the smells, and the sights were not what she anticipated. It’s not that she expected this sleepy old village in the middle of the Kentish countryside would stay the same over the century, but she’d not seen it change. She’d teleported and avoided it since Annette’s death. No, this was not what she expected. The locals looked at her curiously as she refused all offers of a taxi. There were no tourist attractions around, no reason for an out of towner to visit. It was comforting to know that the busy body nature of the villagers hadn’t changed much. There was a light mist that seemed suspended in the air, greeting her as she turned down the long drive to her house. The outside of the manor was well kept, and Buffy noted that Wolfram and Hart were doing a much better job with this house than the ones in London. She bypassed the house completely, intent on her target: the graveyard in the back left corner of the lawn. As she approached she counted the familiar slabs of stone that represented her departed family. There were two extra tombstones. Buffy broke out into a run, terrified as to who the new residents of the Underwood family plot were. She stood panting, heart in her throat, at the foot of the two new graves only to realise that no one was buried there. Henry Christopher Fairchilde-Summers Buried in Los Angeles, California 1912-1982 Elliot Henry Summers Buried in Los Angeles, California 1938-1997 An involuntary tear crept down Buffy’s cheek as she realised that Spike and Dawn must have done this, to keep them all together. Just missing Isabella now, she thought. Buffy’s eyes glanced over the stones of the other members of her family, and noticed another change to the scene. This one was entirely unwelcome though. Sitting next to Annette’s stone was a delicate porcelain doll, the kind Drusilla kept around. Instantly Buffy was angry, and she had to clench her fists and count to ten to keep herself from damaging her property. Instead she scooped up the doll and crushed its stupidly smiling head between her fingers. She was about to rip the fabric torso of the doll into little bitty pieces when it suddenly occurred to her that the infuriating doll was a clue. Her hands turned tender as she sought out something on the doll that would give her a clue as to Spike’s whereabouts. Made in London, read the tag affixed to the underside of the doll. Bloody hell. _________________________ Buffy barged into Noël’s London house angry as all Arashamahar. She was no closer to find out where Spike was and yet, if she believed her newest clue, he and Dawn were in the city. Somewhere significant to Drusilla too. It enraged her. That he would be anywhere that reminded him of her. The woman that had kept him from her. There was some small hope though, she knew, if he had really wanted to be back with Dru he would have made his way to LA. Maybe he was just reliving the memory. But what did she know about Drusilla? Buffy had spent most of her life trying to forget the fact of her, avoided thinking about her. She was the other woman, not worthy of thought or reflection, and now, she had to honestly try and recall something that would be useful. Buffy sat down at the desk in the study and pulled out a yellowed piece of paper from the drawer, Noël’s stationary, not touched since her death, and a pencil. With a tentative hand, Buffy started to brainstorm. Drusilla, Childe of Angelus Sired, around 1860, in Prague, novice nun, Sister Mary Bridget Obviously Catholic London connection? Was Dru born in London? Where? Buffy set down the pen with a thump. She had to find out where Drusilla was born. Wherever that was, that would be where the next clue was located. Buffy let her head sink to the wooden top of the desk and sighed. Spike, why are you so hard to find? she asked herself. Somewhere across the city, the bleach blond vampire looked up from his poetry book and shook his head. Buffy is gone you git, he berated himself. Stop thinking you can hear her. _________________________ Buffy stared at the phone. She didn’t want to do it, but then she no other way to find out the information she wanted. It was doubtful the former vampire or Angelus would tell her what she wanted to know. Drusilla was mad, mad at her, and there was no way Drusilla would tell the demon that made her human where she grew up as a girl. Buffy had run out of places and demons to turn to for information. No one knew what she wanted, or was willing to tell. It was really annoying. It had been a week since she’d visited her house in Kent and found Drusilla’s doll at Annette’s grave. She’d been to every demon bar in the city it seemed, along with a few of their coffee houses. Correction, it was really frustrating. Anya hadn’t been any help either, other than making her more upset by asking her to come back to the Watcher’s Council and train the little slayers, because it would make Xander happy. Anya couldn’t find out where the pendant was because it wasn’t being worn by a vengeance demon. Really frustrating. Buffy kicked the phone off the edge of her bed and threw herself back on to the pillows and sighed, trying to expel her frustrations. She didn’t want to go through another century of trying to meet up with her one true love. She had his marks on her neck, surely they would lead her to him. She could feel him, he was alive, but clearly he really didn’t believe she was alive, otherwise, he’d come running. Right? Eventually she drifted off to sleep, a fitful dream taking the place of her frustrations. A light dusting of snow covered the ground outside an unfamiliar catholic church. Her heels clicked on the cobblestones as she walked towards the entrance. She hadn’t much use for churches after all her experience with other dimensions, gods and goddesses, especially Catholic ones; she was raised Anglican after all. She knew that this was a dream. It was the only explanation as to why she was human and going into a church. Suddenly there was a scream, Dawn’s scream, halting Buffy’s extraneous ponderings. Buffy bolted into the church, only to see Dawn in the arms of an older man, dressed in the garb of a priest. One of his hands was poised around the pendant Dawn wore around her neck, the other held a dagger at her stomach. This was so not good. Momentarily distracted by the red pendant around Dawn’s neck, Buffy found herself pushed aside onto the hard marble tile of the church’s floor by a blur of black. She looked up to see Spike and the priest staring each other down, daring the other to make the first move. With Dawn’s life in the balance, Buffy wondered just what this man wanted with Dawn. Or more to the point, her pendant. There was a crash, the sound of glass breaking drawing Spike’s attention away from the girl for a moment, a moment too long. The dagger slid easily into Dawn’s belly while the priest ripped the pendant from her neck. A terrible scream sounded through the church. Buffy woke with a start. She knew a slayer dream when she had one; though it had been years since she’d last had one. She needed to find this church. That was where she’d find Spike and Dawn. She just hoped it wasn’t too late. _________________________ Churches abounded in London. Depression set in as the days passed by and Buffy had yet to find the church that had featured in her dream. Buffy stood in front of yet another prospect, prepared to go in and be disappointed when Anya poofed next to her. “What are you doing?” the mistress of Arashamahar asked. “Are there priests abusing little boys in there?” Buffy looked over at her friend and shook her head sadly. “I don’t have my pendant Anya. I can’t hear calls for vengeance!” The frustration was more than a little evident in Buffy’s voice. At least Anya had the good sense to look sheepish. “Okay then, explain.” “I had a dream...” started Buffy. “Oh, did yours involve a can of whipped cream, a feather duster, and one of those shiny kid pinwheels?” asked Anya. “No,” snapped the slayer. “It was a slayer dream, people died, in a church, I need to find the church before it happens.” “Oh, that’s much more boring than I thought it would be.” Buffy rolled her eyes at her friend, opening the door of the church and looking around the foyer. “You certain you can’t do a demon thingy to find out where my pendant is?” Buffy asked again, looking behind her at her friend. Anya shook her head. “Nope, no can do. It’s not being worn by a demon. It has no power when it’s not on a demon. It’s as if it was lying on the ground. I’m getting nothing.” “You are whole bunches of helpfulness,” noted Buffy stepping towards the sanctuary. “Yep, and you’re shopping for churches like you’re picking one out for your wedding. Is there something you want to tell me?” asked Anya. “No! I’m already married, and my mate thinks I’m dead. Anya! This is already beyond frustrating, I can’t find him and every time I try to use our link, he comes back and says ‘she’s dead,’” explained the slayer. “That sucks.” “No kidding.” “But Liz knows that you are alive, Willow told her last night. All you have to do is wait for Dawn to phone Liz and everything will be ok,” offered Anya trying to be helpful. “Except in that slayer dream, it’s Dawn that dies,” responded Buffy shooting her friend down. “Again with the sucking.” “Again with the whole bunches of helpfulness,” countered Buffy, not looking at her friend, but at the church. “I think that this is it.” “Huh?” “The church, where I saw Dawn killed. I think this is it. I remember that statue, and the tile on the floor. This is definitely it,” explained the slayer. “Do we have to wait around for Dawn to find the church too? How do you know this slayer dream of yours happens soon? What if it’s like 3 years down the road?” Buffy turned to her friend and frowned. “Positive thoughts Anya! I don’t want to spend 3 years looking for Spike and Dawn.” “Okay. I hope Dawn is assaulted in this church so that you can find your mate and prove to him that you are in fact alive,” said Anya happily. “Thanks Anya,” responded Buffy sarcastically. As if on cue, the door Buffy had just entered through slammed open. Buffy grabbed Anya’s hand and led her away from the door and into the shadows. Dawn and a boy ran into the church, panting, like they were being chased. Buffy took a step towards the two, ready to step in when Anya put a steadying hand on her arm. “I don’t sense vengeance, nothing’s happened yet,” the vengeance demon noted. Buffy’s eyes turned back to Dawn and noticed something else that she wanted to talk to Dawn about. Around the teen’s neck was her pendant. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #55 - Lost and Found

Disclaimer: All hail Joss Author’s note: Massive huggles to my great beta, Bloodytearsoflife. _________________________ Chapter 55 : Lost and Found The light from the open door of the church struck Buffy’s pendant, which hung lightly from Dawn’s neck. Scenes from Buffy’s slayer dream and Dawn’s death flashed through her mind. She had one thought: she wanted the pendant off of Dawn’s neck and around her own. In fact, her fingers were itching to grab it, regardless of Dawn’s feelings. Buffy breathed deeply, calming the urge. Dawn giggled at something the boy said and blushed a deep pink. “Who’s the boy?” Anya whispered to Buffy. “I didn’t think Dawn was allowed to date demons.” “She’s not,” noted Buffy emphatically. The Slayer stepped out of the shadows and into Dawn’s vision. The teen gasped. “Buffy?” exclaimed the key, raising a hand to her mouth. The boy that had been such a distraction to Dawn only moments before was forgotten as Dawn beheld her supposedly dead great, great, great grandmother, looking very much alive and seventeen again. Of course, Buffy thought it was closer to eighteen now that she’d been human for several months. “It’s me, all alive and everything,” Buffy said, shrugging. “Got stuck in that amulet thingy and got zapped back here.” Dawn nodded, swallowing with a gulp. “Hug?” asked Buffy tentatively. Dawn erupted into a smile and stepped towards the slayer, her arms wide. The boy behind her futiley tried to get her attention. No response to his words, and his pleasant demeanour changed, his voice turning harsh. He lunged and pulled Dawn back from Buffy, his hand around her wrist in a hard grip. “Ow!” Dawn protested, the pain from his grip radiating up from her arm. She turned towards her now former...whatever he was and glared, trying to yank her hand away from him, with no success. “Let go!” The boy shook his head ‘no,’ his eyes glaring down not at Dawn but at the pendant around her neck. Buffy’s dream flashed in her mind. It was all the same, except this was a teenager, not a priest. And Spike wasn’t there. The boy was lifting his hand to take the pendant off Dawn’s neck when Anya finally decided to make her presence known. “Hey!” the vengeance demon shouted into the cavernous church, startling the boy and Dawn. “That pendant belongs to Buffy and me! You can’t have it.” Anyanka stepped towards the boy, repelling him away from Dawn. Now free from the boy, Dawn cradled her hand, the swelling around her wrist making it look like it was not an ordinary bruise. A snarl came from the boy’s lips, as he attempted to lunge back at Dawn and the pendant. “You don’t seem to be getting it!” shouted Anya at the boy. “You aren’t a demon anymore. Move on!” Swiftly, Buffy moved over to Dawn and removed the pendant from her granddaughter’s neck, placing it around her own. Suddenly Buffy felt whole again. This was the way she was supposed to be. “Make a wish Dawnie,” whispered Buffy, eager to try out the pendant. “I wish Alan Telton had a broken wrist instead of me,” intoned Dawn, looking at the boy. Buffy shifted into the demon face she hadn’t worn in what seemed like years. “Wish granted.” There was a crunch, and the boy grabbed his arm, cradling his now broken wrist. “You evil bitch!” he screamed. “It runs in the family,” Dawn commented, turning her back on the boy and finally giving Buffy a hug, her wrist perfectly healed with her wish. “Who is he?” Buffy asked her friend as the boy cried on the tile floor pathetically. “A mistake,” admitted Anya. “I made him a vengeance demon, then he sided with the First, so I de-demoned him. He wasn’t too thrilled. He wanted your pendant, ‘cause I smashed his.” “Ahhh,” responded Buffy knowingly. “Can he leave?” Anya looked back at the former demon on the ground and sighed. “Probably, but I think he’s going to cry for a little while longer. I think it would be easier if we left,” Anya told the girls. “And don’t you try to do anything to get a pendant again, Alan! If you do, it’s decapitation for you buster!” With a poof of smoke Anya disappeared from the church. Buffy took Dawn’s hand and stepped towards the exit of the church, happy for the first time since she came back from the Hellmouth. “I thought he was such a nice guy,” commented Dawn sadly. “Why is it whenever I try to date I end up with demons or vampires?” “That runs in the family too, I guess,” answered Buffy. “Maybe one day you’ll find a nice vampire or demon to settle down with.” Dawn laughed. “I know a vampire that is going to be really happy that a certain demon is back.” “I certainly hope so,” Buffy responded, stepping through the church doors and into the sunlight. _________________________ The Key and the vengeance demon walked up to an old brick building in what had used to be a working class part of town. Now of course, the houses were restored and well kept. This house though, looked like it was original. Dawn stepped up to the door and turned suddenly, a pleading look on her face. “Please don’t tell Spike about Alan. He’ll be mad. He’s been extra careful about everything since we left Sunnydale. He thinks that the ‘bloody Immortal’ is going to eat my brains or something.” Buffy nodded her head, promising not to tell. Dawn was alive, no need to make Spike worry now that the danger was over. Silently she vowed that she would be looking over Dawn with added care. This teen was a slippery one. With a smile, Dawn turned the key in the lock and opened the front door. “Spike! I’m back!” she shouted into the darkened house. “And I brought a friend.” Dawn shut the door to the house, blocking out the light from outside. “I thought I told you bit, we are in bloody hiding...” started Spike as he came around the corner to come face to greet the teen, only to come face to face with the smiling eyes of the woman who had been haunting his dreams. “Cecily...?” Buffy bit her lower lip and fluttered her eyelashes. She hadn’t anticipated being this nervous about seeing him again. “Hello William.” “I ran into her on Gracechurch Street! Isn’t that weird?” explained Dawn. If the vampire hadn’t been distracted by the vision in front of him, he would have known at once that it was a lie, but at the moment he was mesmerized by the blond standing before him. Buffy watched his eyes attentively. He always had his emotions so clearly displayed there. There was suddenly a change, his eyes darkened, and flashed gold for a brief second. Buffy knew at once that he’d convinced himself that he didn’t believe that she wasn’t the real thing. “Dawn, go upstairs,” ordered Buffy, her voice suddenly harsh. “Don’t come down until Spike calls for you.” The teen looked between her guardian and her recent rescuer and rolled her eyes. “It’s never easy between you two is it?” the teen muttered as she ascended the steps to the second level of the house. “It never is,” responded Buffy after Dawn had left the hallway. Her eyes fastened on to Spike, never breaking contact. This wasn’t going to be pretty, but she had to convince him. They’d both been paranoid about Dawn’s safety for too long. She knew that if she were in his position, she wouldn’t believe this either. “Who are you?” he asked, starting to circle her. Buffy broke off eye contact as Spike circled, and resisted the urge to keep her eyes fastened on him. He was the hunter here; she needed to convince him that she wasn’t a threat. You know who I am, she responded through their link, startling him. “I am yours,” she said aloud. “Your mate, your wife, your lover, your best friend.” “Buffy’s gone,” he stated with conviction. Buffy turned her head and made eye contact again. She could tell he was close to crying, but was fighting back the tears to face the threat she posed. “I am alive,” she said softly. “I was sucked into the amulet Liz gave me. I was spat out at Wolfram and Hart in LA. It’s taken me months to get to you and Dawn.” “A likely story,” he grumbled. “It’s the true story. You’ve got to know that it’s impossible to kill me, Spike. Didn’t you see what happened to D’Hoffryn?” “Demons in multiple dimensions know about that little spectacular,” he countered. “True enough,” she responded. “I know this is cliched but ask me something only I would know...maybe that would convince you.” “Strip,” he ordered. “I beg your pardon?” “Strip,” he ordered again. Buffy looked into his eyes, trying to see the wheels turning in his head. He stared straight back at her, unbelieving, ready to strike. Slowly, Buffy nodded, she understood. Her hand travelled up to the zipper of her jacket and started to pull it down, keeping eye contact with her mate. She knew what he wanted. No clone, no facsimiles would have the same scars she did from their sorted history together. She hoped that Dawn heeded her order to stay upstairs. When she’d originally said it, her thought had been that she and Spike were going to fight, a bloody messy fight. Dawn didn’t really need to see that at all. Buffy pulled her jacket off her body and let it drop to the floor of the hallway. Dawn didn’t need to see this either. Buffy pulled her tank top off over her head, revealing pale white skin, a pale blue lace bra and her newly returned pendant. Spike’s eyes flashed as he spied the pendant but he made no comment. His eyes travelled to the scars on Buffy’s neck, his marks from when he tasted her demon blood so long ago. Buffy pulled on her belt, and slid her leather pants down her legs, not getting any reaction from the vampire still fixated on the scars on her neck. She stood before him clad in matching bra and panties, waiting for his next order. Eventually, his eyes travelled the length of her body and fixed on another set of scars, on the inside of her thigh. Buffy felt herself get wet, remembering just what had happened the night Spike had bitten her there. She blocked out what happened afterwards. It was traumatic enough to have to the Immortal stalking her offspring, she didn’t want to remember every detail of what he did to her. Spike stepped closer, his piercing eyes inspecting every inch of her body. His nearness produced another wet reaction, coating the crotch of her panties. He was so close there was no way he couldn’t smell it. He’d always loved her scent, said that it was distinctive, hers alone. Wouldn’t that help her win her case? Spike’s nostrils flared and the hard look in his eyes softened for a second. Only a second though. Buffy rolled her eyes, annoyed with how long this was taking. “Bite me and get this over with,” she said, breaking the silence. Spike looked taken aback at her suggestion. “Look, if I’m the real deal you will know by taste, if I’m not...well you’ll know that right away too.” He looked as if he was pondering the idea for a moment, then, without warning, he struck, imbedding his fangs into the marks on her neck. He drank deeply, no doubt trying to uncover any deception. Buffy let her eyes roll back into her head. She’d missed the sensation of him drinking from her. In her ecstasy, she heard her name, muffled, from his lips, and felt his arms wrap around her body. “Stupid vampire,” she responded, leaning into his touches. Took him long enough. _________________________ tbc...

Chapter #56 - Chapter 56: Gift Wrap

Disclaimer: The pixies tell me that some guy owns BTVS. I’m not a guy, I guess I don’t qualify. Author’s note: Much huggles to BTL for the betaing. This is the second last chapter of this fic! _________________________ Chapter 56: Gift Wrap Spike was finally in her arms again, Dawn and Liz were both alive and well, and her pendant was around her neck, all was right with the world. Well, the Immortal was still alive, but that was secondary to her happiness at the moment. Somehow, Spike and Buffy had managed to travel up the flights of stairs, shedding Spike’s clothing as they went. Now the two demons lay exhausted, spent, but happy in each other’s arms. “I thought I’d lost you forever,” he whispered into her blond hair. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” she noted happily, leaning back against him as he held her. Buffy’s eyes took in the room that they were lying in. The decorations were simple, and very clearly not updated since the turn of the last century. The portrait that hung over the mantel in this particular room was of a dark haired woman, bearing a striking resemblance to the other woman in her life. On closer inspection the picture wasn’t of Drusilla, but clearly a relative. “Why are you living in Drusilla’s house?” she asked suddenly, as she had put all the pieces together. He exhaled a breath, as if he had been anticipating the question. “Didn’t want the blighter to find us, love,” he responded. “Seemed like a good place to hide. Dru’s got a connection to me, not you.” Buffy nodded her head, understanding, but not exactly okay with it. It did seem like a nice kind of revenge to have had sex with her lover in Dru’s house though. “I wonder what the crazed nun would say if she knew that we’d had sex on her father’s bed?” asked Buffy, looking around to observe his response. When he didn’t respond in any way, she thought that it was better to drop the subject entirely. “It was a good idea to hide here. Thanks for leaving the clues to find you though. It was helpful,” she continued, changing the subject. “What clues?” he asked, the tone of his voice raised a little. Buffy turned right around, letting the sheet that was draped over her naked body fall to the wayside. “You didn’t leave the clipping on the refrigerator door? The doll on Christopher’s grave?” Spike shook his head. “Then who did?” _________________________ Buffy was sitting in the kitchen, fully clothed, when Dawn ventured downstairs. The two girls were silent until Dawn sat down on the chair beside Buffy. “Is it weird that we live in Drusilla’s house?” asked Dawn timidly. “Yep, lots. No big deal though. Now that I’ve found you, you’ve got to move,” Buffy responded. “Can we move to Italy? I really want to see Liz. It’s been eons. Okay, not eons, but something close. Please?” Dawn batted her long eyelashes at her great, great, great grandmother. “Not Italy, Nib,” noted Spike with a finality as he entered the room. “Bloody Immortal lives there.” “The Immortal that Liz is currently dating,” added Buffy with a sad tone. The vengeance demon waited for her mate to respond to this piece of news. Suddenly the doorknob that Spike had been holding onto broke loose from the door. Spike let the knob drop to the floor. “She knows what he did you to you and she’s gallivanting with that prick?” he finally seethed. “She didn’t know it was the Immortal when she started seeing him!” Dawn defended her sister. “All she knew was that he was an Italian guy, a really rich Italian guy.” Dawn looked down at the table she was sitting at and tried hard not to notice the anger in the vampire’s eyes. “You knew!” he barked. “Spike!” Buffy warned her mate. It did no good to take this out on Dawn. “Liz makes her own decisions. It’s her life, she’s a slayer. You’ve done a good job keeping Dawn safe. We have to think about where we are going to hide her next though.” “She probably bloody safe as houses with Liz givin’ it up to the bastard that raped you,” he explained, hurt. Dawn let out a little gasp at Spike’s words. No one had ever really explained to her what the immortal had done to Buffy. Now she knew. “If I’m safe now that the immortal has Liz, why can’t we move to Italy? I wanna see Liz before he uses her as some sort of sacrifice,” observed Dawn. “And if the pillock decides it’s easier to use you?” queried the vampire. “Liz is a bigger bragging point. Besides you owe me. Both of you.” _________________________ In the end, Dawn got her way. The little family left Drusilla’s house, and England, in search of Liz, all the while Spike grumbled about the whole situation being really unsafe. Buffy just smiled at his protestations. He was more of a parent than he’d like to admit. They took the train; Dawn wanted to see Europe. She hadn’t had the chance to explore these last three months. The teenager looked attentively out the window and at the passing scenery while Spike continued to grumble. He didn’t like the fact that they were going or the fact that he had to hide under a blanket for the entire trip. For her own part, the train ride gave Buffy the time to contemplate a few things. Just who had left those clues behind? Were they even clues? Buffy shook her head. Of course they were clues. There was no way that Spike would have kept the newspaper article describing how Noël died on his fridge. And the doll at Christopher’s grave? Drusilla was safely in LA, kept in a padded room under lock and key, unless she had escaped. No way could she get to England without anyone noticing. The only conclusion was that there was someone out there who had been leaving things for her to find. Buffy looked over at her mate and squeezed his hand as he complained at about their situation: being on a train travelling towards the one person they had avoided for so many years. She might have been expecting a bit of a warmer reception from her mate when she walked into the house, sure, but Buffy had been long under the maxim that you had to take what you could get. It didn’t take much to realise that he was just a tad bit stressed by his role of guardian to Dawn. Given the chance, he’d probably rant and rave at the hell Dawn had put him through. She knew he loved Dawn though. That was why it was so hard to accept where they were going. _________________________ They left the train, and found a taxi to take them to Liz’s apartment. The dark Italian night did nothing to calm the teenager’s exuberance. Dawn called out the address to the cab driver, barely able to contain her excitement at seeing her sister again. Buffy wondered just how much Liz would be excited to see them all though. Liz was free of taking care of her sister and could live her life as a free and young adult for the first time. Buffy just hoped that Dawn wouldn’t be too crushed when Liz told them to go back to England. They arrived in front of the building where Liz resided, and led by Dawn, who was practically dragging Spike, the little family entered the building in anticipation of meeting up with Liz. Dawn banged loudly on the apartment’s door. There was scuffling on the other side of the door, followed by grumbling and general snarkyness. Eventually, a very bleary eyed Vi opened the door and glared at the trio standing on the doorstep. “What?” the former potential barked, not realising just who it was, just that it was midnight and she had spent the entire day training new slayers. “Vi?” questioned Dawn, her eyebrows raised. “Why are you in Liz’s apartment?” A flash of recognition passed over the slayer’s face. Vi looked from Dawn to Spike and then to Buffy. “Hey, I thought you were dead.” “I get that a lot and you know what? Haven’t died once,” Buffy responded. Vi continued with perplexed face and turned back to Dawn. “I thought you knew I lived here too.” Dawn shook her head. “Is Liz home?” It was Vi’s turn to shake her head. “She’s off with her boyfriend at some club.” “Great,” muttered Dawn. “I travel all the way from merry old England to have Liz not even here when I show up.” “Did you call ahead?” asked Vi, leaning against the doorframe. “No,” noted Dawn looking down. “Look, can we bloody come in? I’m sure the neighbours are right annoyed with us chatting in the corridor,” asked Spike. Vi shook her head again. “I can’t invite you in, the lease is in Liz’s name.” “Bloody hell,” the vampire muttered under his breath. Clearly he wasn’t having a good trip. He took a few calming breaths before he spoke again, looking over at Buffy. “You and the Bit can crash here, I’ll find you in the morning.” ,” he said annoyed. He made as if to leave them there in the hallway. Buffy reached out her hand and stilled his departure. “If you think I’m letting you out of my sight you are sorely mistaken,” Buffy responded. “Dawn can stay here,” offered Vi, moving aside, making room for the teen to pass her into the apartment. “Oh no,” interjected Spike. “Bit’s staying with us. You could be one of his bloody agents for all I know.” “Spike!” Dawn hissed. “He’s right,” Buffy added in defence of her mate. She hadn’t gotten to know many of the potentials when she had been in Liz’s house, this one only slightly better than the others. That still made leaving Dawn with her a no go in Buffy’s books. Buffy looked at her mate for a moment as they both contemplated what they were going to do for the night. Neither of the demons had a problem staying up the whole night, but Dawn needed a bed before she crashed. “Hotel?” suggested Buffy. “No!” Dawn practically shouted. “I came here to stay with Liz and I’m going to stay with Liz. No hotels, no former lover’s houses. Here with my sister!” “I guess we are off to find the Slayer then,” noted Spike. _________________________ The music outside the club Vi had directed them to was blaring, making it seem like the sound system was actually outside the building instead of inside. “You stay here,” Spike ordered, pointing at the two girls. “You never let me do anything fun,” whined Dawn petulantly. “You are not leaving my sight,” countered Buffy stubbornly. “Bloody Underwood women,” Spike muttered, looking to the sky for strength. “Fairchilde women,” Dawn sassed back. “You do realise that we are delivering Dawn into poncy's clutches?” he tried again to reason with his mate. “And yet, we are still going in,” Buffy responded, not budging. Spike gave a resigned sigh and walked into the bar, curiously lacking a doorman at the entrance. The door swung violently against the force he exacted upon it only to reveal an empty club, the music still blaring and the lights flashing to the beat. Buffy paused beside her mate, a worried look on her face. The loud music made it difficult to speak and to be understood. Dawn’s mouth was moving, but Buffy didn’t hear a thing. I feel her here, Spike responded to her unasked question through their link. Buffy nodded her head and let him lead them towards Liz. They ascended a flight of stairs and into a private room. As Spike pushed the door open into the blessedly soundproof room, Buffy noted the blood that coated the floor. “Ewwww,” articulated Dawn as she passed over the threshold. The vampire, the demon, and the key stood framed by the doorway and stared at the room’s only living occupant. Standing in the middle of the room, covered in blood, Liz stood, holding the Immortal’s severed head in her hands. “I’m thinking gift wrap,” noted Liz, looking at Spike, who had been first through the door. “Who’d want the Immortal’s head gift wrapped?” asked Dawn, cringing. Buffy raised her hand, a huge smile gracing her face. _________________________ tbc..

Chapter #57 - Chapter 57: Wishes

Disclaimer: Joss owns them, all I want is my very own naked Spike, preferably chocolate covered, but Joss won’t let me even if I asked nicely. Author’s note: Massive huggles to my wonderful beta and friend, Bloodytearsoflife. Well this is the last chapter. Thanks to everyone who’s stuck around all the way to the end. _________________________ Chapter 57: Wishes Liz turned her head towards Buffy and her raised hand. The shaking of Buffy’s hand grew more noticeable with every second. The Immortal, the rapist, murderer, demon, pain in her ass was dead. The wish that D’Hoffryn had granted her had come to pass. Liz took a step closer to Buffy and held out the head gingerly. “Happy Birthday,” Liz whispered into the calm quiet of the room. Buffy lowered her hand and reached out to touch the severed head of her enemy. Tactile sensation only added to her sense of bewilderment. The feeling of his cold dead skin made the thing she had longed for, for most of her existence, his death, more of a reality. “Does this mean no more hiding?” asked Dawn, looking at her great, great, great grandparents. Spike shook his head slowly, staring at the lifeless eyes before him. The Immoral was dead, dead and headless. “You sure he won’t come back?” asked Dawn, not giving in to optimism so quickly. “I guess we could set the corpse on fire,” suggested Liz. “Good idea, pet,” agreed Spike. “It’s time we got out of here.” Liz put the head into Buffy’s hands and wiped the blood off of her own, before taking Dawn’s hand and leading her towards the door. Spike stepped closer to his mate and offered her his zippo lighter. Buffy looked from the lighter to the head and back again, a wistful look on her face. “The police will be here any moment,” he added. Spike stepped forwards and grabbed a couple of bottles of alcohol that stood conveniently on a table. Taking the caps off the bottles, he doused the headless body of the Immortal before tossing the bottles aside. “Let’s go, luv,” he urged. With a nod, Buffy knelt before the body and flicked the zippo open, setting the Immortal’s body aflame, then slipping the lighter into her pocket. She backed up, watching the pretty fire for a moment, holding the Immortal’s head close. Spike took her free hand and led her away from the flaming corpse. Buffy took a few steps closer to her family and opened a portal, leading them all in and escaping the bar that would soon be engulfed in flames, holding the Immoral’s head to her side. The four beings stepped into Erixel’s lair in Arashamahar in silence. Dawn and Liz sat on the bed, staring at their surroundings, while Spike and Buffy stood off to the side, Buffy staring at the head. “He’s not very good looking,” said Dawn, interrupting the silence. “It was a struggle to keep from vomiting every time I had to talk to him,” noted Liz. “It’s hard to keep from vomiting now,” added Dawn. “Ugh.” “What are you going to do with the head, luv?” Spike asked. “Oh I have plans for The Immortal. I have a friend that would love to have his head,” explained Buffy. “He juggles.” “Who would want The Immortal’s severed head?” asked Dawn unaware that she’d already asked a very similar question once today. “Believe me, it is disturbing, and I’ve been familiar with it for a century,” commented the demon. “I think it will be a good present for Krevlin though. I know he’ll be so proud of it, he’ll never let it out of his sight.” “You have weird friends,” mentioned Dawn. “What else is new?” Buffy responded. “Liz, the shower is through that door,” the demon motioned, the head still in her hands. “Thanks, the blood is getting crusty.” “Dawn, why don’t you pick out an outfit for your sister? I’m going to give Krevlin his present.” “And what am I supposed to do while you go gallivanting all over Arashamahar, with the Immortal’s head?” asked her mate. “Oh I won’t be gone that long, you big baby,” she patronized walking past him towards the door. Suddenly he reached out and grabbed her elbow, forcing her around to face him again. “I only just got you back. Don’t want you out of my sight,” he growled. Buffy giggled at his possessiveness. If Dawn and Liz hadn’t been in the room with them, she might have taken him then and there. “You wanna come with?” Spike gave her a leer and did that curling of the tongue thing he did so well that made her want to melt into a puddle at his feet. Buffy whipped around and faced her great, great, great granddaughters. “Spike’s coming with me. We won’t be gone long.” “Yeah right,” Dawn mumbled. _________________________ Hand in hand was impossible, given the fact that she was carrying a head in her hands, but their trek from Buffy’s lair to Krevlin’s was pleasant. Arashamahar had no roads; they weren’t necessary given the fact that all natives of the dimension could teleport. Strangely enough all lairs and even the Vengeance Palace had front doors. Buffy had used them extensively while Christopher lived in Arashamahar. Spike and Buffy walked up to Krevlin’s lair and the vampire banged impatiently on the front door. A startled Krevlin answered the door, his face lighting up into a smile once he recognised the visitors at his door. “Erixel!” the demon beamed! “You’re back! Excellent! I was about to send out my invitations to my next party!” Buffy looked over at her mate a second before turning back to the juggler. “I am afraid I won’t be able to make it,” she apologized sweetly. “But I have a gift, to express my regret at missing your last party and this new one. Here.” Buffy thrust forward the head. Krevlin looked down at the head and smiled. “Who’s was it?” he asked. “The Immortal’s,” expressed Buffy casually. Krevlin’s mouth formed a small ‘o’ in wonderment. His hands reached out, almost shaking. “It’s just such a thoughtful gift!” he exclaimed at last. Smiling, Buffy was about to accept his thanks, to wish that the party went well, and that his guests would be thrilled with this newest acquisition, when she suddenly felt something. Krevlin turned his head suddenly as well, startling Spike. “Anyanka wants you,” Krevlin explained, though Buffy knew instinctively that she had been summoned. “Then we must go,” she admitted, grabbing Spike’s hand and leading him from the lair. The walk to the Palace was brief, Krevlin had always been one of D’Hoffryn’s chief jesters and therefore had been given one of the best lairs, after Anya’s and her own, of course. Anya’s court was full of sycophants and demons looking for favour. Naturally Anya was having none of the pomp and ceremony of her predecessor, even though the demons in the realm still expected it. Anyanka was sitting, reading Red Book magazine, her feet hanging over the side of the throne. “Mistress Anyanka,” greeted Buffy curtseying low to her friend. She knew that Anya didn’t need the supplication, but the demons watching expected it and she didn’t just get her demon-hood back for scandal to rear its ugly head once again. “It’s about time you showed up!” Anya exclaimed, putting her magazine down. “Did you walk here?” “Well, ya, we did,” Buffy answered. “Really? Okay, moving on. The Immortal is dead? And you didn’t tell me? Your best friend?” “It only just happened!” Buffy defended herself. “Krevlin knew!” “I only just told him!” “What are you getting at demon girl?” asked Spike, his voice quieting the demons of the court who had been twittering in the background. He was disrespectful of their Mistress, surely she would punish him. And that would be fun to watch. “I’m doing my job, Spike!” Anya exclaimed. “Unlike some demons I know, I know what it’s like to have to do a job, first for a wage, like a good capitalist American and then as the Mistress of this realm I call home. I have a work ethic. I’m following up. Assuring customer satisfaction.” “Following up on what?” the vampire asked. “What do you think I’m following up on? A wish you…vampire…you! D’Hoffryn’s wish, that one of your descendants would torture and kill the Immortal, the one that violated Erixel,” Anya explained. She turned to her friend then. “So? Are you satisfied?” Buffy nodded her head enthusiastically. “Yeppers, one very satisfied customer. That’s me, satisfactory in every way.” “Every way?” Anyanka asked, a little turn of her head. “That was only vengeance against one person, you still have at least half a dozen vengeance wishes you can wish. Just ‘cause this one is done doesn’t mean you have to wait for the next time I’m feeling that I need to do you a favour you know.” “And just whom would I want vengeance on?” asked Buffy curious, ignoring the look Spike was giving her. “Angelus, for killing your family…” “He’s saddled with an insane former nun for the rest of her existence. His soul won’t let him kill her or turn her. I think that’s punishment enough,” Buffy responded. “Giles for abandoning you to those watchers…” “He’s dead and he married a Travers girl, to which I say, yeeeeesh.” “Liz for being a bitch and not letting you see Dawn…” “I won’t wish vengeance on my family, Anya.” “Spike for…” Anya was cut off by a growl from the vampire in question, and Buffy who raised her hand. “Don’t even go there,” stated Buffy. Anya shrugged. “Hey, now no one can say I didn’t try. So when are you two going to get hitched, all human like? Xander wants to know when he can show me how dashing he is in his tux when he’s not sweating like a pig and taking back things he shouldn’t.” Anya looked at Spike. Erixel looked at the wall. Spike looked at the floor. “I see Xander isn’t the only man who can’t commit,” observed Anya earning a laugh from the throngs of on lookers. “We should go,” Buffy interrupted the laughter. “Things to do, future to plan and all that.” “Sure, leave me in this lonely splendour. Xander’s away on some mission for Giles in Africa, getting more Slayers signed up or whatever. Who knows when he’ll be back. I’ll have to go to Krevlin’s next party without him to make me laugh. Fine go!” Anya dismissed her friend with a wave. “I hear Krevlin’s got a little something new to juggle this time ‘round, might be right exciting,” observed Spike as Buffy tugged him out of the audience chamber. _________________________ Spike and Buffy walked back to her lair to find a newly cleaned Liz, sporting some of Buffy’s clothes and Dawn sitting on the bed engaged in earnest conversation. The pair of grandparents startled the girls a bit, but their smiles indicated that it was not because they weren’t wanted. “Liz wants me to come live with her in Rome,” exclaimed Dawn, unable to contain her excitement. “That’s okay, right?” “Of course that’s okay, Nibblet,” Spike responded, when Buffy didn’t. “You should be with your sister,” Buffy added. “So you aren’t mad?” Dawn asked worried. “Of course not! Why would we be mad?” Buffy wrapped an arm around her great granddaughter. “You just got back, and Spike…” “Oh I’ll make sure that Spike is kept very busy and won’t have time to miss having to worry about you all the time. I mean, sure he’ll still miss you, just I’ll keep him occupied in many fun ways.” Dawn put her hands over her ears. “TMI! T..M..I!” _________________________ Buffy waved good bye to her great, great, great granddaughters as the portal closed behind them. She turned to her mate with a smile. “So what do we do? Where do we live?” Tenderly he took her hand and kissed it. “Live, London.” “Really?” He nodded. “I think it’s time to move on, don’t you, luv?” Buffy opened a portal and the two of them stepped into Noël’s house, the smell of lemon and pine permeating the house, evidence that the cleaners hired by Wolfram and Hart had finished their job. “Well maybe not this house,” he admitted. “I was thinking my house actually.” “Our house, actually,” she noted with a smile. “Even the lawyers acknowledge that little fact. And they didn’t ask me to strip naked. Do we keep this one?” “Maybe the bit can use it when she’s done living it up in Rome. She wants to be watcher. She’ll need her own place.” Buffy nodded. “I’ll call the lawyers and…” Buffy was cut off by a puff of smoke appearing in the middle of the parlour. Buffy waved her hand in front of her face clearing the smoke, expecting to see Anya before them once again. It wasn’t Anya. “Hi,” came a small, slightly familiar voice. Buffy did a double take and peered into the smoke once more. “Who the bloody hell…” started Spike. “Well I know it’s been a long time Grandpa Spike, but honestly I don’t look at all familiar?” the girl asked, her blond hair curled about her shoulders. “Isabella?” breathed Buffy, not believing her eyes. “See, I always knew who the smart one in the family was,” continued the girl who looked no more than fourteen, younger than Dawn. “How are you even alive?” asked Buffy stepping closer to the granddaughter she had lost so many years ago. “The baby of the family, still alive after her brothers, niece and nephew are dead? Yes, how is that possible?” “Don’t you get smart with me, young lady,” snapped Buffy, her patience running out. She wanted an explanation. She wanted to give her granddaughter a hug. “Did you really think that none of your offspring would have demon qualities?” started the impromptu visitor. “Sure, you got a slayer and a key, but then Noël was a potential, did you know that?” “Are you a demon then?” asked Spike. “Well, duh!” “You weren’t raised to say ‘duh,’” noted Buffy sceptically. “So it’s okay for Liz and Dawn to say ‘duh’ but I can’t?” The two grandparents were silent for a moment, possibly reassessing their double standards. “Why did you never contact us?” asked Buffy perplexed. “Henry and I left to keep out of the Immortal’s path; me being a demon wouldn’t have made that any different. I kept out of the way, watching over the family you couldn’t.” “That’s why we couldn’t find your grave,” muttered Spike, “The bit and I, we found Henry and Elliot. Didn’t find you.” “Not dead!” Isabella noted, throwing her hands up in the air. “Me too, but does that stop people from all the jumping to conclusions and the rewriting of history?” agreed Buffy. “Was it you that left the clues?” Isabella smiled and nodded. “Was it helpful?” “A little bit…” “Well that’s good then,” the teen noted with a resigned sigh. “Well, I wanted you to know, now that I can, that I’m alive. You might’ve wanted to know.” “What? You are just going to leave?” squeaked Buffy. “Sort of. You have a life to start together. You haven’t thought about me, except to find my grave, in years. I didn’t want to interrupt anything. Next time you have a family reunion, let me know, I’ll come. You should invite Hank too, he’d like that.” “Beg your pardon?” asked Spike. “He’s a little bit demony too. I begged him not to divorce his wife. It was just his reaction to finding out he was part demon. He’s not really as bad as you think him.” “Have you been spying on us this whole time? All these years?” Buffy asked. “Pretty much. Oh I averted my eyes at the appropriate moments. I didn’t see anything I didn’t want to. My virgin eyes were spared.” “But where do you live?” Buffy continued taking another step towards Isabella. “Spain. This is exactly what I didn’t want to do. I should have just stayed away,” moaned the girl. “No!” Buffy took her granddaughter’s hand. “No! Never think that. I’m so glad I found you!” Isabella stepped back and nodded, a tiny tear running down her face. “Then I’ll be back,” she whispered. “Please do,” responded the vengeance demon. A smile on her face, Isabella stepped towards Buffy and placed a small kiss on her cheek and repeated the same thing for Spike, before teleporting away. It took only a second before Buffy found herself wrapped up in Spike’s arms. “She’s alive!” Knowing what happened to her entire family gave her a comfort like she hadn’t felt in a long time. They were all safe now; safe from the Immortal. There was nothing now to keep their family apart. Isabella was right, they needed to have a family reunion. But not just yet. She needed some time with the patriarch of the family. She leaned up and placed a kiss on his lips. “We’ve got quite the family now,” she whispered, “and no one to keep us apart from them. It’s almost perfect.” “Almost luv?” asked Spike. “Well, it would have been good to have had the whole happy family thing this whole time, instead of the hiding, the fighting, and the so many other things that got in the way,” explained Buffy cuddling against his leather clad shoulder. Spike looked off at the family portrait that hung above Noël’s fireplace, the happy smiles of his son, Christopher, his wife, Kristina, and Noël smiling down upon them. He smiled back, formulating the words that would change his unlife. This time he wanted to be conscious of it. The decision was his to make. “I know what you mean, sweets. Wish we could have another chance, do this differently this time.” Buffy gasped a little and looked back up at her mate, his blue eyes shining down at her. He nodded. “Wish granted,” she breathed, the smile on her face radiant, as she took one of his hands and laid it on her flat stomach. “Wish granted.” _________________________ fini