I wish I could respond to every single review that I've gotten for this story. . . . because I don't think any of you understand how much the notes, encouragement and well wishes mean to me. I'm humbled by the concern and caring and outrageiously wonderful response. Its wonderful and so very welcome. Please, please keep the good words coming. And you all have to give a nod of thanks to Addie Logan, because she's been looking over these last couple of chapters for me, because I'm too out of it to catch my own mistakes. Nor would I have made it this far without her help with the plot bunnies.

[A//N: Slowly but steadily, we are getting to the end. . . . I think. See, because someone *coughSlinkycough* gave me a plot bunny. . . . But I don’t know when I’ll be able to get to it, since I have another story that’s been nagging at me for months now. Title is from one of the quotes, which are as attributed. Disclaimers are in full force and effect.]

Previously: Faith has killed the demon and come face to face with Jenner; Lawson’s made contact with Spike and Buffy; and Cordelia is stirring.

Book two. Chapter 50. Evil gains work their punishment.

Evil gains work their punishment.
Sophocles, Antigone, l. 326.

Did she make you cry
Make you break down
Shatter your illusions of love
Is it over now, do you know how
Pick up the pieces and go home.
Gold Dust Woman, Fleetwood Mac, Rumors

Whatever evil a man may think of women,
there is no woman but thinks more.
Sébastien-Roch Nicolas De Chamfort, Maximes et Pensées, vol. 2, no. 414

The evil that is in the world almost
always comes of ignorance,
and good intentions may do as much harm
as malevolence if they lack understanding.
Albert Camus

In revenge and in love
woman is more barbaric
than man is.
Friedrich Nietzsche, Sämtliche Werke: Kritische Studienausgabe, vol. 5, p. 97

No man is clever enough to know all the evil he does.
Francois VI duc de La Rochefoucauld




When they got outside, the hound moved away, almost urging them to follow. Spike raised a brow, knowing what the hounds were looking for, and why. What he didn’t understand was why the hound was here looking for him.

Making a split second decision, Spike shot a look at the other vampire. “Be right back, don’t disappear.”

Nodding his head, Lawson asked, “what’s going on?”

“Never you mind. Jus’ don’t leave.” He was gone in a blink, then before Lawson could get bored, Spike was back.

“C’mon mate, we’re gonna tag after the pooch.”

The blond was off then, through the door and stalking after the huge dog long before Lawson stirred.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


He’d never been so surprised in his existence when the Slayer had turned her back on him and walked off after the huge hound. Stunned for a moment, Jenner turned slightly bemused eyes on her retreating form, then signaled up to Hawkins and the others. Hawkins dropped down beside him, waiting for the orders he knew were coming. When Jenner spoke, he wasn’t surprised.

“You and I are going after them.” He pointed to Hawkins. “The rest of you find someone – but don’t over-indulge. Last thing I want is the Slayer coming down on us.”

Dismissing the rest of the minions, Jenner set off after the Slayer, leaving Hawkins to follow behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Faith was aware of the others behind her, including the two vampires who were hanging back, tracking their movements. She said nothing to either Wesley or Giles, rightly figuring they could sense them also.

The tingles she and Buffy both referred to as spider sense had flared into something else entirely. She was aware of more than just the presence of the trailing vamps – Faith was positive one was Jenner.

Every nerve was humming, jumping beneath her skin, muscles tense and pulsing. The nape of her neck was itchy, and she was beginning to wonder if this was how Spike felt to Buffy. If he made her nerves sing – made her belly flip just by being near. Which led her mind down another path, how it would feel to actually have him touch her. . . . . the sex must be hot. . . . .

Faith shook off the thoughts of sex, sneaking a glance at Wesley, noting his attention was riveted by the hound.

It was Giles though, who voiced the concern they were all beginning to feel. “We’re too close. The house isn’t that far.”

Wesley was the first to spot the others – and it was his soft exclamation, “I knew I should have said something.”

The two girls were facing each other, separated by a few feet and Willow was obviously the object of the hounds’ search, because the hound their strange cavalcade had been following stopped beside Tara, growling deeply at the redhead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Buffy watched the door close behind Spike and the other, her eyes widening, unable to believe he would leave just like that. The room remained silent until Buffy’s belly growled again. Maureen reacted quickly, sitting Buffy down and handing the girl the yogurt sitting on the table. Buffy had a spoonful of the stuff in her mouth before she realized it.

“You have to eat sweetie. You can’t forget to do that.” She was busily unpacking the bag Spike had dumped on the table, clucking her tongue and tsking at some of his selections. ”What was he thinking? Muffins, cookies, chocolate. . . what was that man thinking?”

The door burst open and the man in question flew through, his eyes unerringly finding his girl. “Love, its one of those damned hounds, ‘ve got to go.”

“Spike? What?” Buffy started to get up, but he was there in front of her, down on his knees.

“No, you stay with Dawn an’ the boy. Should be back soon.” He leaned in for a kiss, grabbing his duster from behind her. “Love you.”

“You too.” He licked some yogurt from the corner of her lips and was gone.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Gunn had nothing more than an address, no directions and no idea how to get there. Fred was quiet beside him, her eyes scanning street signs and numbers, looking for some clue they were nearing their destination. The exit from the freeway was into a residential area, and while he had originally thought about going directly to the Magic Box, figuring it would be the easier of the two places to find, Gunn had made a wrong turn and ended up heading out of town on the local roads.

They’d wasted time finding a turn off and heading back into Sunnydale, and he looked at the sign announcing the city limits and laughed. The sign was steel reinforced, with a double set of posts into the ground. Wesley had told him the story of Spike’s penchant for knocking the damn thing down and he wondered who was the city official smart enough to order the replacement this way.

He was busily recounting the story, at least as much as Wesley had told him, when Fred’s soft voice interrupted him. “Look, there – see?”

Gunn’s eyes followed the line of her outstretched arm, straining to see the figures standing almost in the middle of the street. “Yeah. Got it.”

Turning the wheel, he dovetailed a little, then brought the truck under control, aiming for the group. “There’s Wesley.”

Fred was practically bouncing in her seat, her eyes fixed on whatever was happening outside. Gunn pulled the truck over, throwing the gear into park, while Fred scrambled out before the engine stopped running. It wasn’t until he was out and the loud, almost subsonic growls reached his ears and Gunn raced behind Fred, realizing they were heading into a situation.

A not so good situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



They could hear the two girls fighting from down the block. Willow – that traitorous bitch was pleading with his Glinda, who was, bless her, standing her ground.

Spike nearly outpaced the hound, racing toward the girl, anxious to get there before Willow did something to hurt Tara. Somehow, though he was unsure how he knew, Spike was certain the spell had been the work of Willow. Rage was coursing through him, fueled by the image of Dawn lying on the gurney, bloodless and unresponsive.

All this – the grief and pain of the last two days could be laid square on the back of Willow.

All of it.

Not just the last two days either.

Willow was responsible for Buffy’s return, and part of him was grateful; would always be grateful for that. But a bigger part of him was angry with the witch. She’d done the unthinkable – torn his girl from the reward she’d richly deserved. Spike would never understand how Willow could be so blind – believing Buffy had been trapped in a hell dimension. He might be without a soul, but even he’d known Buffy wouldn’t have gone to a hellish place.

The Huntsman and Wesley’s research had told them to watch out for Willow, not in so many words, yet the inference was clear. Willow, by her blind actions, had betrayed Dawn, Tara and Buffy – it was just a toss up which of the last two she’d hurt more.

The hound was leading them toward – suddenly Spike was filled with certainty – Willow.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


There was no pain.

Strange muted noises filled her head and she blinked, trying to remember where she was.

Film covered her eyes and she blinked again.

White.

White . . . . ceiling. . . . . She tried lifting her arms, but there was no strength and her muscles couldn’t – wouldn’t respond. Her brain’s commands weren’t getting through. Fingers twitched and her eyes fluttered closed once more.

A whisper soft whimper sounded in her throat, harsh and pain-filled.

The muted voices disappeared.

“Cordy? Was that you?”

Voice. . . . . know that voice. . . . can’t. . . .

Something warm touched her hand and she tried to close her fingers around it.

“Hey Cordy. Its Xander. Can you hear me?” A pause. “C’mon Cordy, squeeze my finger, blink your eyes or something. Lemme know you’re in there.”

She tried. She really did. Her muscles weren’t responding to any of her brain’s commands. . . .

“Cordy, c’mon, gimme something, some sort of sign.” Her eyes fluttered, slowly lifting.

Cordelia’s first sight in almost two weeks was the tear-filled brown eyes of her ex-boyfriend.

“Oh my god. Cordy. . . . no, don’t go to sleep. Stay awake. I’ll be right back.”

He was gone before she could protest.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Maureen Osbourne had gone on her rounds and also to the kitchens on a mission to get Buffy something more substantial then the junk food and one yogurt Spike had brought back.

Connor was asleep now, his head on her shoulder, warm breath brushing over her cheek. Buffy was dozing also, one hand on the gurney next to Dawn, the other resting on the baby’s back. Sleep was easier than thinking – thinking was hard – thinking lead to memories, and Buffy so wasn’t up for thinking.

She remembered everything.

Glory. Dying. Being in heaven.

Coming back – being ripped from heaven.

Spike finding her, protecting her, caring for her. . . . caring. . . . loving.

She remembered Tara, and everything she’d done for them. Was still doing.

She remembered Dawn – who she really was – how the monks had made her.

Buffy’s sleepy eyes watched the rise and fall of Dawn’s chest, traveled over her, focusing
on her face.

There was so much of Spike in her features, their real coloring – eyes and hair, his nose – Dawn was already showing signs of beauty. Buffy supposed they’d have to watch . . . . but probably not.

Casey’s death had hit her hard.

Whoever had performed the spell had stolen all their memories – Casey’s death was on their hands – because there was no way any of them would have been so reckless had their memories been intact.

Dawn stirred, shifting uneasily in her drug induced sleep. Buffy watched, her eyes trained on Dawn’s face, willing her to wake up and be okay. Her hand reached out, brushing back the dark hair, fingers threading through the long strands.

“C’mon Dawnie, just open your eyes.”

She didn’t get any response, but she hadn’t really been expecting one.

Buffy sighed, getting up to put Connor down in his car seat, fighting tears.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Wesley?” Rupert’s soft question sounded solely between the three of them. “What do you mean you should have said something?”

The younger Englishman sighed heavily, avoiding Giles’ questioning gaze. “I’ve had suspicions about all of this, since before Faith woke me up this morning. Willow has been conspicuous in her absence.” He shook his head. “But I held my tongue, buried my fears and said nothing.“

Giles barely glanced aside, his eyes trained on the tableau before them. Faith’s voice sounded before he could speak. “Same here dude, I just figured no one would believe me at all.”

The sarcasm crept into his voice, chastisement very clear. “Really, you two, next time don’t worry about what the rest of us will think. Just say it.”

“Right.”

“I’ll remember that.”

“As long as neither of you ever says ‘I told you so’.”

Faith and Wesley shared a look around Giles, neither one of them smiling.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


It took him more than a few moments to recognize the beast they were all trailing behind. Jenner stopped in his tracks, staring blindly ahead. “Hawkins, how’s your mythology?”

“Depends. We talking Greeks and Romans or something else?” He stopped when his sire did, waiting for whatever would come next.

“Something else. Celts, to be specific.” Hawkins swung round to face the other vampire, surprise on his face.

“You’re asking about . . . why?”

Jenner shook off his thoughts. “Did you see the hound?”

It was as if a light switched on in Hawkins’ head. “Cwn Annwn. How dense am I? What are they doing here in California?”

“Haven’t a clue. But I’m thinking it might have something to do with what’s going on with Spike and Angelus.” Jenner started walking again, his attention focused once more on the Slayer he was following. “Glynnis. . . . “

A dark-haired female emerged from the shadows behind the two and Jenner smiled despite his slight aggravation. He’d expected at least three of his people to disobey him and stay at his side, it was nice to know his expectations had been met. And Glynnis could be counted on to always be near Hawkins.

Her voice was husky – the kind of huskiness that set men to thinking dangerous thoughts. “Yes?”

“Need you to find out what’s been going on with Angelus, what’s happened to him in the last couple of years.” He paused, thinking for a moment, then continued, “you have until daybreak.”

“I’ll have it sooner.”

With a last look at Hawkins, Glynnis slid back into the shadows.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Charles Gunn had seen a lot of things in his life, things most normal people missed. Growing up on the streets of Los Angeles, shit just happened. But this was the first time he could ever remember so many people just watching two girls or ever seen such big damn dogs.

Shooting a look at his companion, Gunn shrugged, muttering under his breath about weirdness. Shielding Fred with his bulk, Gunn led her to where Wesley stood with Faith and some old guy, their attention on the strange scene being played out across the street.

“Yo, English. Whassup with this shit?” Obviously Gunn’s presence caught the other man by surprise, because he turned startled eyes toward the two newcomers.

“Gunn?! Good lord. What are . . . . “ Wesley stared at him for a moment, then shook off his momentary shock. “How did you get here?”

“Sorry it took so long. Had trouble with the wheels.”

Wesley waved off his apology, about to say something else when a low rolling growl echoed in the night and Wesley whipped round to see what had caused it.

Charles followed his movement, his dark eyes widening at the sight of the huge dogs circling a pair of arguing girls.

One of the girls pulled away from the other, almost stumbling in her haste to get away.

A voice sounded, calling out “Glinda” and then the hounds growled as one, the biggest moving toward the smaller of the two girls, jaws open, baying for blood.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


He was close enough now to hear their words, Willow pleading with her former lover while Tara rejected her, spelling out all Willow’s sins.

The raw emotion of Tara’s heart breaking for the second time was clear, even from half a block away.

Spike ran, putting on a burst of speed, hoping he could get close enough to shield the blond from whatever nasty Red was planning. He stopped short, though, when the hound he’d been following rounded on him, snapping its jaws, cutting off his route to rescue.

“Nice pooch, calm down.” He slowed to a walk, edging closer and closer, willing to risk getting torn apart to save Tara. “C’mon you mangy cur, lemme save the girl.” Spike realized it was futile, but he wasn’t going to allow another one of his girls to get hurt. He’d had more than enough of that over the past couple of days.

He could see Rupert, Faith, Wesley and two others watching warily, and he noted with a grim smile Giles inching forward every few seconds. He sensed Lawson getting closer and another pair of vampires hovering just out of sight. Ignoring them all, Spike chanced another set of steps closer. The hounds, six strong now, growled as one and he froze, feeling the air draw in around him.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“I can’t believe you Willow. What on earth were you thinking?” Tara’s face was contorted,
a cross between anger and disgust, her blue eyes filled with unshed tears.

“I did it for us, you and me. So we could be happy again – the way things are supposed to be.” There was no anger in Willow’s voice, just confused pleading, but it was the lack of remorse or understanding within her eyes that set Tara off.

“For us? There isn’t . . . there hasn’t been an us in a while. So what is this really about? Control?” She took another step back, away from Willow and unknowingly toward Spike.

“Control? No, baby, I did it all to get you back, so we could be happy again. The way we were before.”

“Before what? Before you decided to play with everyone? Before you decided we should all live life according to Willow’s rules?” Tara’s anger was gaining ground over her hurt and even Faith could tell the taller girl was losing her patience. “How things go – who lives or dies – is not your decision, Willow. You can’t just decide to bring Buffy back from the dead, pulling her from heaven or fix other things you don’t agree with. It's not your decision Willow.”

“But I can make things better! Fix everything!” Willow reached for her again and Tara flinched away.

“Nothing would have needed fixing if you had left it alone in the first place.” Tara shook her head. “You can’t keep ruining things and then trying to fix them.”

Willow grabbed a hold of Tara, intent on trying to make her see, make her understand, when the alpha hound growled. The sound was nearly inaudible to most of the humans, yet it was a signal to the rest of the hounds.

They circled round the two girls, standing between them and the others, facing Willow. The alpha growled again, and the air froze, everyone waiting for what would happen next. Tara was close enough to see something flare darkly in Willow’s eyes, writhing and sparking with power. She wrenched her arm out of Willow’s grip, stumbling away.

Willow raised a hand, murmuring something under her breath, something the others were too far away to hear or understand. Fear flashed in Tara’s eyes, the hounds moving closer, edging toward Willow. The air glittered with unfocused magics, the hounds bayed, Spike’s voice echoed down the street and Willow was gone.








Oh, don't worry, she will get hers. . . . . you've trusted me this far, bear with me a bit longer. And please, leave a review.