The ladle bounced off of Angelus’ chest and fell to the floor with a ‘clunk.’ As a maniacal laugh rumbled from his chest, Angelus focused his attention on Buffy, inadvertently turning his back to Spike, who was still speedily searching through the handbook. Buffy mentally sighed in relief.

“Thank God…now if only Spike would read a little faster….”

“I’m doing the best I can, love.”

“Shut up…what am I supposed to do?”

“Duck, for starters.”


Buffy stood, dumbfounded, at Spike’s advice.

“Huh?”

Angelus hit Buffy with a large metal cookie sheet, knocking her back a few paces, and dazing her slightly. Her daze was furthered by Spike’s sudden outburst.

“Aha! You’re in for it now, Poofter.”

“Pet, you’ve got to chant this with me, all right?”

“Sure.”

“Adiksa morani clus, got it?”

“Got it.”

In unison, Buffy and Spike chanted the words at Angelus. When nothing happened, he shook his head at the pair, and moved menacingly toward Buffy, who was still a few inches out of reach of Spike. As he lunged towards the Slayer, a faded red light began to encompass him, beginning at his heart. Angelus backed up against the wall, clawing at his chest as the light began to further envelope his body. Buffy ran to Spike’s side on the opposite side of the kitchen, and watched as Angelus became engulfed in the redness, then fell to a heap on the floor. Cautiously moving towards him, Buffy noticed his chest heaving.

“Angel?”

With a ragged breath, Angel turned his head to look up at Buffy.

“Buffy? I’m…I’m alive?”

Before she had a chance to react, Angel’s body was wracked with pain, and his skin began to wrinkle and sag. In moments his face had aged fifty years, and Buffy turned away, burying her head in Spike’s shoulder as Angel’s body continued to wrinkle, and then finally crumbled into dust. With tears streaming down her face, Buffy finally looked up at Spike, whose eyes were suspiciously moist.

“What happened? What was that spell?”

“It was supposed to restore life, love…thought it was the Shansu or whatever the devil I’ve heard it called. Guess if it isn’t the real thing, it has adverse effects.”

“Like?”

“Like restoring life to someone whose natural body would have decomposed by now…Peaches…er…Angel was a few hundred years old, pet…his body would have been dust by now if he had died in his own time, so….”

“So age just caught up with him?”

“Yeah, that about covers it. Pet, look, I didn’t do it on purpose, and I know he was the bloody love of your life and all, so if you don’t forgive me I’ll….”

Buffy silenced him with a penetrating kiss.

“Shut your gob.”

“You’re beginning to sound like me, love.”

“I am not!”

“Are too.”

“Shut up and kiss me. The only thoughts I want to be hearing are dirty ones!”

Spike acquiesced and the two quickly made their way to the living room, their lips never parting as they fell to the couch. Expertly stripping away each other’s clothes, there was nothing left between the pair. As their bodies writhed together, a flash of white light shone in the kitchen, and Dawn walked into the living room, gasped, and ran back into the kitchen, shielding her eyes and gagging. Spike and Buffy were too encompassed in their coupling to notice, and continued their tryst without a hitch. Dawn gave Willow a distraught look, and the witch laughed and nodded.

“We’ll go back for a little bit, Dawnie. I think Xander probably wants to play his Xbox for a little longer anyways.”

Xander nodded.

“And how…if we don’t get out of here now, I’ll never be able to stop the brain screaming.”

“Right, let’s go.”

With another flash, the group was gone again, allowing their friends a few moments of peace.


--

~70 Years Later~

Spike held a small blonde girl in his arms, her legs wrapped around his chest, and her face buried in his neck. A white stuffed rabbit hung from her hands, giving Spike the appearance of being lazily attacked from the back by an oversized lepus. The girl let out a small sigh and Spike hugged her closer.

“Chloe? Poppet? What’s wrong?”

The girl sniffled and moved back so she could look him in the eye. Her bright blue eyes shone with unshed tears.

“I don’t want Auntie Willow to die like Mr. Fish, Daddy.”

“I know, Poppet,” he said, choking back his own tears, “I don’t want to lose her either, but these things do happen.”

“Are we gonna have to flush her too?”

Spike chuckled lightly and pushed a stray hair away from her face.

“No, Poppet. We…we’ll…let’s ask your mother later, alright?”

Nodding, Chloe motioned for her father to put her down, which he, obligingly did.

“When’s Mommy coming out?”

Spike laid a kiss on her forehead.

“As soon as she and the twins are done talking with Auntie Willow.”

Chloe pouted, then ran toward the large chair in the foyer where they were currently standing. Snuggling the rabbit close to her, she scooted back into the chair. The three-year-old’s feet dangled, and she kicked them back and forth absent-mindedly.

“I wanna go back upstairs an’ play with Brayden.”

“Poppet, he’s only two months old…he can’t play with you yet.”

Chloe crossed her arms with a huff.

“He can make things fly an’ disappear, Daddy, an’ he’s nicer to me then Grady an’ Gabby are.”

“Poppet, what do you mean about Brayden moving things around?”

Chloe furrowed her brow.

“He looks at sumthin’ an’ makes it float…’specially when it makes me laugh. He likes to make me laugh.”

“Right…well….”

Spike stopped short when the door before them opened, and Buffy emerged with two blonde teenagers walking solemnly behind her. The boy, Grady, an almost carbon copy of Buffy, with short, shaggy hair, stood a few inches taller than his sister, Gabriella, whose green eyes were the only identifiable trait of Buffy’s to be found in her. Everyone who met her said that she was a replica of Spike in almost every way, even down to his mannerisms. Buffy smiled sadly at her mate, and moved across the room, and laid her head on his shoulder.

“Hey…she’s resting now. They don’t think…they don’t think she’s going to make it much longer. It’s just a matter of time now before,” she trailed off, overcome by a quiet sob.

Pulling her into a tight embrace, Spike whispered to Buffy.

“Now, now, pet…Red’s had a long life…she….”

“God, what are the girls going to do without her?”

Spike shook his head. For the past twenty years, Willow had raised two half-breed demon girls, two and four when she found them, that she had found orphaned in an underground safe house for creatures running from demon hunters. Kira and Shavie were half-human, half-Carnyss demon, and both looked nearly human in appearance, however, Shavie’s facial ridges were slightly more prominent, and she had two tiny horns formed at the back of her skull. The girls walked out of the room, arm-in-arm, tears staining their olive-toned faces. Shavie nodded at Buffy, clutching onto her sister for support.

“Mom’s gone now…she…she went very peacefully.”

Buffy forced a smile, trying not to let more tears fall from her eyes.

“She loved you girls very much, you know. You two were all she talked about.”

Kira sat next to Chloe on the giant armchair, and the little girl instinctively climbed into the demoness’ lap. Staring up into her purple eyes, Chloe furrowed her brow.

“Miss Kira, I love you…you can hold Mr. Bunny if you want.”

A small smile crept to Kira’s face and she nodded, taking the stuffed toy from Chloe’s outstretched hand.

“Thanks, sweetie. Shavie, I’m tired…I’m going to bed…I just….”

Shavie nodded and sighed.

“I know, Kira. Me too. Aunt Buffy…Uncle Spike…we….”

“We understand, pet,” Spike said, patting the younger girl on the shoulder. “You take care of Kira, alright,” he whispered to Shavie, “She’s not as strong as you are, love.”

“I will, Uncle Spike. Thank you. We’ll talk to you guys tomorrow, alright? I’ll call the funeral director in the morning. If there’s one thing mom overdid, it was the planning. I swear she’s had this thing planned for a decade.”

With a mirthless laugh, Shavie helped her sister walk up the stairs to their room in the Council’s living quarters. As they were immortal, Spike and Buffy had taken over the ruling positions of the Council, and were responsible for the discovery and training of a veritable fleet of Slayers and Watchers. Kira and Shavie were the first half-demons to be trained as Watcher and Slayer, respectively, and each was coming along swiftly in their training. Buffy stared after them for a moment before focusing her attention back on her family. Chloe had fallen asleep in the chair, while Gabriella was cradling her arms around herself. Spike and Grady were quietly talking about nothing in particular, rugby, Buffy assumed. She sighed and gathered Chloe into her arms, motioning for the rest to follow her.

“Let’s go to bed, guys, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

--

Joyce sighed and sat down next to Tara.

“I hate seeing my little girl go through so much pain.”

Tara nodded.

“I know Joyce, but she’s strong, she’s battled apocalypse after apocalypse…s…s…she’ll be able to mourn Willow without losing herself.”

Anya nodded, plopping down next to the pair with a sigh.

“It’s just that Willow was the last of the Scooby gang to drop. Buffy will be lost without someone telling her what to do.”

Willow, almost unchanged since her youth, aside from stark white hair that cascaded down to her thighs, walked into the group and sat down next to Tara.

“I hope she can handle this…she’s been so reliant on me and Spike ever since Dawnie passed away.”

At the mention of her name, Dawn pushed her way into the circle, followed by Giles, Andrew, and Xander. A good-natured laugh encompassed the group for a few moments, before Joyce cleared her throat.

“Alright, you all know why we’re here. The Powers That Be want us to make sure that Buffy and Spike and their children make it through the next apocalypse unscathed. The next hundred years or so are going to be difficult for them, but if they can make it through…good will have the upper hand for once. It won’t be forever, but it’s something to hope for…isn’t it?”

--