[A/N: Here we go, moving onward and upward, struggling toward a finish, or something resembling a finish. thanks again, Tam, for the readthrough and beta work Title and quotes are as attributed. The disclaimers are in full force and effect.]

Previously: Glynnis has gone missing and Hawkins is out searching for her; the mansion has exploded in a fireball; Buffy, Spike and the rest are heading toward the mansion; and Willow is attempting to break the wards and shields around 1630 Revello Drive. This backtracks in some places and moves forward in others.

Book Two. Chapter 60. Unto the breach


March to the battle-field,
The foe is now before us;
Each heart is Freedom’s shield,
And heaven is shining o’er us.
B. E. O’Meara: March to the Battle-Field.

People do not want words — they want the sound of battle
… the battle of destiny.
Gamal Abdel Nasser, To National Assembly 20 Jan 69

The trumpets sound, the banners fly,
The glittering spears are ranked ready;
The shouts o’ war are heard afar,
The battle closes thick and bloody;
Robert Burns, The Silver Tassie

Once more unto the breach,
dear friends, once more.
Henry V, act 3, sc. 1, l. 1.





They were only a few blocks from the mansion and Buffy had just turned to say something to Giles when an annoyingly high-pitched whine sounded from every cell phone. Oz doubled over, holding his hands over his ears, while Spike growled, cringing from the noise. The Buffybot stopped dead, cocking her head to the side, then chirped, “That’s a really horrible noise. Can you make it go away?”

The real Buffy let loose a remarkable imitation of one of Spike’s warning growls and although everyone else flinched, the Buffybot just remained staring at her with a vacant expression.

“Buffy, it’s the shields for the house. The outer one has been breached.” Wesley was the first to react, knowing immediately this changed their plans.

The whining noise went on a bit longer, then stopped as abruptly as it had started. Spike shook his head, then looked to Buffy. Oz had finally straightened up, though it was obvious he was in a little bit of pain.

“Can you hear me?” Giles stood in front of Oz, a worried look on his face. When Oz nodded, then pointed to his ears, Giles sighed. “We should have thought of this. Hopefully they’ll clear up shortly.”

Just as he was about to turn to Spike to ask the same question, a loud booming noise echoed down the street and off the surrounding houses. Car alarms and sirens went off, and neighborhood dogs howled along with the sirens.

Faith swung her gaze between Spike and Buffy, wondering which way they were going to decide. “Kay, so Sammy boy came through, what the hell are we gonna do now?”

“We’re gonna head back to the house and protect Dawnie and Connor.” Buffy hefted the sword over her shoulder and headed off in the other direction, only to be called back by Wesley, who merely pointed down the block.

“Oh crap.”

Fanning out, they faced the oncoming vampires, presenting a united front. Buffy and Faith stepped forward, followed by Spike, the bot and Lawson. Waiting patiently until the vampires cleared the two cars parked about fifty feet ahead of them, they finally got a rough count of how many vampires were approaching. Only about thirty-five headed in their direction, so Buffy called over her shoulder to the rest of them. “Giles, Wes, you guys stay back and shoot any of them that get past us.”

Spike stretched, loosening his muscles. “Time to go to work, kiddies.”


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Standing just outside the mansion, Hawkins decided against boldly going in and asking for Glynnis. Instead, he opted for stealth and unknowingly he followed the path Giles and Wesley had used before on the quest to find Cordelia. He couldn’t see any of the main rooms, only the occupied bedrooms, and none of them held the vampire he was looking for. Damn her. . . what the fuck was she thinking? He heaved out a sigh. Knew what she was thinking, just why was she doing it now? She never could wait until someone explained it to her. Always jumping in without knowing the plot.

Moving around toward the back of the building, Hawkins smelled the odor of gas and fried ozone. Backpedaling quickly, he ran around toward the front entrance and was on the neatly manicured lawn, closer to the sidewalk than the house when a loud whomp sounded, followed by a high-pitched whistle and the house rocked on its foundations. Flames shot out from the back of the building in a plume of black smoke and ash that rained down all over the property. Hawkins stumbled backward, nearly landing on his ass when dozens of vampires streamed from the building, some of them battling sudden flames. Two males streaked along the path he’d just taken, their shirts on fire and despite yells from others, they ran, the flames spreading. Before either of them could completely round the corner of the house, they disappeared in a shower of ash. Three more died the same way before Hawkins spied a shrieking blond emerging from the front door, followed by a loudly cursing Glynnis.

The two women ran, heading toward the street, the blond covering her head with her hands while Glynnis kind of pushed and tugged her forward at the same time. Hawkins sidled up to Glynnis, grabbing her and moving her away from the other one. “Jenner knows, you stupid bint.”

Shaking off his hold, she glared at him. “Why the fuck do you care? It’s not like William the Bloody is worth dying over.”

“Angelus is worse. At least with William you’d know he’d remember you. Angelus wouldn’t care one way or the other.” He pulled her harder, uncaring when she couldn’t untangle her feet.

“Let me go you jackass.” Glynnis dug in her heels and pulled away from Hawkins’ grip. “I can’t believe you. You’d fight alongside the Slayer because you don’t like Angelus?” She looked at him as if he were deranged, shaking her head. “He’s fighting with pulsers, humans! The bloody fucking Slayer, for the love of Mike.”

Hawkins made a grab for her again. “You’ve got to come with me, otherwise Jenner’s going to let you fry. If Spike catches you, you won’t be safe.”

The blond came up to them, jabbering excitedly. “Glynnie? The whole place is gonna burn and well, Angel said we should go, you know, to that other place. He wants me to show you where it is. So are you coming?”

As she spoke another blast rocked the already shaky foundation, and there was a loud groaning. Flames over twenty feet high shot through the roof of the building, gusting out from the west wall. Agonized screams came from those trapped inside and the blond flinched hearing them. Speaking more to herself than the other two standing with her, she muttered softly, “Oh my god. I don’t think he got out. . . He went back for Druidzilla. Is he crazy?”

The sound of floorboards and walls collapsing echoed around them and Harmony stared at the mansion, mouth hanging open wide.


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Drusilla whined low in her throat, her hand wrapped around Angel’s upper arm, cowering against him at the same time. They were trapped in their bedroom, blocked in by the flames outside the door. Angel had backed away, keeping Drusilla behind him, steering them into the bathroom. Glancing around, he knew the only way out was through the small window, unless he could come up with some other plan.

A second explosion rocked the house, knocking Drusilla off balance and she crashed into the tub, banging both knees hard. She groaned, hands on knees, tears of pain and terror streaming down her pale cheeks. The tub. . . . right. Angel turned the taps on full blast, whirled around and headed for the bedroom. “Dru, get yourself all wet.” When she whined her opposition unintelligibly, all Angel did was yell again. “Do it, Dru! Now!”

“Get out Drusilla. . . . get dressed, must run. Get dried. No, no, silly girl, must get all wet again. Daddy doesn’t know his own mind. Bad, mad Daddy,” she sing-songed into the smokey air, her hands wringing out a wet towel onto her head.

Angel came back into the bathroom, trailing blankets and sheets behind him. “We don’t have time for this, Dru. You need to listen to me now.” He dumped the blankets into the bathtub, holding them down so they absorbed all the water. Addressing his comments to the water gushing from the taps, he spoke. “C’mon, c’mon, we don’t have time to waste.“

He slapped the first blanket over Dru’s back, wetting her from hair to shoes and she shrieked, clawing at him. “Dru, take it easy. This is the only way we’re going to get out of this, so I need you to listen and pay attention. Can you do that for Daddy? Can you, Dru?”

His voice had taken on a soft, soothing quality as he spoke, which the vampire in front of him responded to, and she looked up at him, her eyes big and wide in her face. “I’ll be good, Daddy, I promise.”

“Good. Okay, listen to me, Dru. When we get out of this room, I want you to hold onto my belt and never, ever let go. Not for any reason. Do you understand me?” She nodded once, but his attention was on the second blanket, which was bigger and of denser material and it was sluggish in soaking up the water. Adding a sheet to the mess, Angel draped the sheet on top of the first blanket covering Drusilla. Finally, there was some progress, and Angel added the last sheets to the tub. The water spluttered, slowed down but kept flowing and he knew their time was up.

“Let’s go. You remember, hold onto my belt loop.” Without waiting for her to answer him this time, Angel swirled the blanket and sheets over his head and moved quickly through the bedroom. Drusilla’s hand curled into his back, nails scraping a thin line down the middle, and she clamped onto his belt loop with all her strength.

He paused at the door, lifted his foot and kicked it open. The roaring seemed to grow and Angel flinched away as a heavy beam crashed down next to him. Flames licked and blazed up the walls, and though he couldn’t hear Drusilla behind him, he knew she was still there because of the tight hold she had of him. Angel roared over the flames, “NOW!” And he led Drusilla, at a dead run, to the front door.

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Wesley found himself on the sidelines, watching the fight unfold in front of him, his crossbow at the ready. Giles had positioned himself behind an SUV conveniently parked in a driveway; they were diagonally opposite each other, with Giles just steps closer to the action. There was no vehicle he could take similar refuge behind, only a small decorative flowering pear tree, which gave him very little cover. Although, he realized as he watched Faith neatly behead a vampire, hiding wasn’t really necessary. In fact, he could have been better used by videotaping the entire fight.

Twice now, a vampire had erupted in spontaneous combustion, and Wesley had watched both times as Spike neatly stepped away and let the vampire disintegrate. His eyes followed Faith and Lawson, who were in a loose pair, while the Buffybot efficiently and cheerfully killed her own opponents, Oz merely herding the loose ones in her direction. Buffy and Spike were spinning and dodging, staking and removing heads in a fluid motion that couldn’t possibly be called brawling. It was far too graceful. Even as he watched, crossbow now held in lax hands, Spike leaned to his right, almost ducking behind Buffy, catching his adversary across the jaw with a swipe of his left foot. The vampire’s head snapped back, and the body fell to the ground. Leaving the vampire, Spike switched off with Buffy, moving in to engage the three she’d been fighting, while she squared off against the two Spike had been battling.

The realization of what Buffy and Spike were doing hit Wesley hard and he forced himself not to laugh outright. They were dancing. To a tune they alone heard, and it certainly was neither a waltz nor a minuet, yet it was graceful and riveting to watch.

Somehow the rhythm swept through their group, first Faith, then Lawson catching the steps and moves and suddenly, the four of them were fighting as one unit, switching off and effortlessly, seamlessly stepping in and out of each other’s maneuvers. He couldn’t breathe for watching them, and Wesley found himself counting in time to their steps. Lunge, parry, thrust, gone, one down; lunge, parry, thrust, gone, two now. It was deadly and dangerous and all the more beautiful because it was completely and totally unexpected.

Was this what Jenner meant about the other pair? For once in his life, Wesley found himself wishing for the presence of a vampire. I wonder what he would make of this? Wesley glanced across to where Giles was standing, nearly laughing at the expression on the older man’s face. So I’m not the only one feeling it then. . . . .

In a flurry of movement, Buffy and Spike converged on two vampires, dust exploding in the air between them and in the next instant, cell phones began emitting another high-pitched whine.


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


“Hello girls.” Joyce greeted the two, a sad smile wreathing her features. “There isn’t much time, so you need to listen closely.”

Anya stared at the figure, squinting as her eyes tried to adjust to the light emanating from Joyce’s form. “You are dead. How come no one around here stays dead?”

Joyce chuckled softly at Anya’s artless question. “I am still dead, Anya dear, and I’m not about to be resurrected or brought back.”

“Well that’s good.” She thought about it for a second, then asked, “It is good, right?”

“Depends on your point of view, I suppose.” Joyce stepped closer to the two, putting out a hand to touch Tara’s forearm. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

Tara started shaking her head, at first in acceptance, then in denial. She tried to speak, but no words escaped her. “It’s okay, I understand. Just take a deep breath and you’ll be fine.”

When she’d finally settled down enough, Tara opened her mouth. “Why are . . . is it that bad?”

“No, not really. It isn’t all good, I’ll grant you that.” Joyce rested her gaze on the obviously upset girl. “I’m here to give you a warning and a promise.”

“We’re gonna die. That’s what you’re here to warn us about, right?”

“No.” There was no hesitation in Joyce’s voice and the girls relaxed visibly. “There is going to be a price paid, though, for something else. Something neither of you knew about, and before you ask, I can’t tell you. All you need to know right now is the price is not another life.”

There was silence for a few moments, then Tara stuttered out, “Dawnie. She was supposed to . . . . She wasn’t supposed to make it.”

Joyce didn’t need to answer, the truth was written on the set of her features and all of them shared the silence, realizing how close they had come to losing her.

“Remember what I’m about to tell you both. It’s important Buffy gets this message and she understands what has to happen. The price isn’t permanent and only a dead man can cross the boundaries.” She waited, her gaze steady on the two girls. “Do you understand?”

“Only a dead man can cross the boundaries and the price isn’t permanent.” Anya repeated Joyce’s words, while Tara nodded in understanding.

“Good. Now don’t forget it.” Joyce stepped forward, placing her hand on Tara’s forehead, just between her eyes. A soft purple light glowed between them and Joyce whispered softly, “When the time comes, you’ll know what to do. Trust in your connection to spirit.”

Tara’s eyes closed when Joyce’s fingers had grazed her skin and the second her voice died off, she opened them, an enigmatic look on her features. “Your strength is in your faith and you are far stronger than you believe.”

Anya looked on, nodding her head in agreement. She was caught completely by surprise when Joyce turned to face her. “You too, child of vengeance. Not all your gifts are gone, you only have to find the key to unlocking them.”

Joyce stepped back, clasping her hands in front of her. “Remember girls, the price isn’t permanent.”

The door splintered, crashing open, pieces of wood scattering all over the hall, striking the spot where Joyce had been standing seconds before.


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

Glynnis had fought him off, pushing Hawkins off balance when a nameless vampire exploded in a shower of ash right beside them. She grabbed Harmony, pulling her away from the flames. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

Breathlessly, Harmony ran beside her, babbling the whole time, “He got out, right? Angel wouldn’t just go up in a burning building. I mean he’s like the strongest vampire around, he wouldn’t just poof like that. Right?”

“I have no fucking idea, but I’m not sticking around to find out.” Sending an angry look at the blonde, Glynnis shook her head. “Where did he want us to go?”

“We have to get to the Slayer’s house. He’s supposed to meet us there.” Harmony pointed left, directing Glynnis.

Sirens and alarms were wailing all around them and Harmony flinched every time one came close. Turning down another street, Harmony backtracked again, avoiding the obvious sounds of a fight. Knowing if it was Buffy and Spike she didn’t stand a chance of surviving, Harmony led Glynnis away, ignoring her complaints.

Bypassing an ambulance racing toward the mansion, the two females headed toward Revello Drive through Shady Rest Cemetery


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Willow hovered over the threshold, momentarily held back by the residual energy from Joyce’s visit. Tara stared at her, stunned speechless by the changes in her former girlfriend. Anya, however, didn’t suffer from any such affliction. “Oh Willow, you’ve gone for the all-evil makeover. I’m not sure I like the darker hair and paler skin, although it certainly makes your eyes stand out.”

“Shut up Anya.” Willow stared at the former demon, sparks flickering at her fingertips and the ends of her hair. “You really shouldn’t piss me off right now, I’m already all bad moody.” Her attention shifted to Tara, and although there was a slight softening of her features, Willow’s expression remained the same. “Why did you lock me out?”

“We. . . . Buffy and . . . . We thought it would be safer to put shields around the house to keep out everything . . . . To keep out the bad stuff.” Tara was fighting the stutter, fighting to keep her control in the face of the power and fury emanating from Willow.

“So you and Buffy consider me one of the evil things?” When Anya started to speak, Willow snapped at her, “I said shut up.”

From deep inside her, Tara found the kernel of strength and power Joyce had mentioned and she focused inward for a second, steadying her nerves and her heartbeat. “No, Willow, I don’t think you’re evil, but you are out of control. You need to just stop reacting and think about what you’re doing and who you are threatening.”

Her lips pursed, and Willow’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Tara. “I’m not threatening. I just came over to fix all the bad stuff, everything that’s gone wrong.”

“You can’t fix this Willow, anymore than you could undo whatever else you’ve done. Fixing things the way you want them isn’t the answer.”

“But this is all wrong, and you know it. There’s no way Buffy would be with Spike if everything was normal. Something is wrong with her, she came back wrong.” Willow pushed against the energy left by Joyce, and feeling it give, she moved into the foyer.

“There’s nothing wrong with Buffy. She’s fine.” Tara was shaking her head in denial of Willow’s words, although she knew Buffy had come back different. Being pulled away from heaven would cause anyone problems. Even if she tried explaining so to Willow, Tara had a feeling she’d be ignored.

“Oh, please, don’t even try that. She’s not fine, how could she be fine? She’s sleeping with Spike.” Willow flicked her wrist, sending an arc of power over Anya’s head as a warning shot. “Don’t, Anya, I’ll make it hurt.”

“You can’t keep doing this. This is wrong, Willow, and it’s going to come back on you. Just stop this, please.” Tara tried one more time to reach her old lover, but Willow wasn’t listening. Instead, she pursed her lips again, shaking her head against Tara’s entreaties.

“I can fix this.”

Willow moved closer, her hand outstretched, palm facing toward the two girls, when Tara inhaled deeply, fixing her eyes on the redhead. “You shouldn’t, Willow, just let it go. This isn’t something that needs fixing.”

Tara’s normally soft features stiffened, her jaw tightening with resolution. Ignoring her, Willow pulled her bag off her shoulders, preparing to start at least one of the spells she intended to cast. Taking advantage of her distraction, Anya moved forward, grabbing a hold of the straps and pulled. Willow’s eyes flared, and she dropped the backpack, her hand circling Anya’s wrist. “Rigescere.”

Anya’s entire body stiffened, her muscles frozen in place. Her eyes bulged, darting from Willow to Tara and Tara could feel the panic and fear engulfing the other girl. With another deep breath, she stepped closer, making a small motion with her right hand, even as Willow was raging at Anya to keep her mouth shut. Using Willow as a distraction to hide her motions, Tara slid between the two, uttering a single word.

“Release.”

Anya fell back, gasping for air and leaning heavily on the wall for support.

“You can’t do things like that Willow, you could’ve killed Anya.”

Instead of speaking, Willow grabbed for Tara, who awkwardly moved away from her grasp. “No Willow, you can’t . . . I’m not going to let you hurt anyone.”

“It’s only Anya. I was just keeping her out of the way, I wasn’t going to hurt her.”

“I couldn’t breathe.”

Anya’s voice was a hoarse whisper and Willow turned to look at her, eyes narrowed. “I said shut up.”

“Silencio.”

Tara released Anya almost as quickly as Willow had bound her, drawing the other witch’s attention.

“You really don’t want to do that, Tara. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t want to hurt you either, Willow, but I can’t stand by and let you hurt anyone else.”

Power flared from Willow’s fingertips and she flicked them at Tara, muttering under her breath. Tara struggled for calm, then passed her hand in front of her, palm outward. The movement warded off the arc of power, directing it away from both her and Anya. It hit the wall, cracking the plaster and shaking the house.


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Angel, with Drusilla clinging to him tightly, burst through the front door just as the floorboards behind them creaked ominously, flames engulfing the entry. He’d lost the sheet, and the blanket had slipped dangerously during the run from the master suite, though he kept moving, intent on escape.

Once outside, Angel shook off the blanket, turning around to free Drusilla from her smoldering bed-clothes. His hair had been singed, along with his hands and forearms, but his desperate plan had worked. Rescue personnel were arriving and paramedics raced up to them, intent on checking them both for injuries. Drusilla was unharmed, the waterlogged blankets had proved more than enough protection for her. Angel allowed them to be drawn away from the fire, to the back of an open ambulance.

Taking advantage of the confusion, Angel shifted into game face and quickly drained the first paramedic, while Drusilla attacked the second.

Moments later, the two master vampires were on their way to Revello Drive, just steps behind Harmony and the others.


to be continued . . .