[A/N: Between one thing and another this summer just got completely past me. I spent a couple of weeks being unable to see anything at all, then moved onto WriterCon and then actually moving from one place to another. And of all that the only thing I had planned on was WriterCon. So my apologies for not being more prolific. Hopefully that will change as this nears completion. Title and quotes are as attributed. Disclaimers, as always, in full force and effect. I own nothing but the plot and a few minor characters.]

Previously: Everyone has converged upon the small house at Revello Drive. When last seen, Giles had Drusilla by her hair; Angel and Spike were battling it out; Faith and Buffy were fighting off vampires; Tara and Wesley had made it to Dawn and Connor after Wesley incapacitated Willow. This picks up immediately following the last installment.

Book Two. Chapter 63 Never hit softly


Providence chooses its instruments.
Not the other way around.
Fate brought you to that battle.
Destiny demanded your actions.
Perhaps you were merely a tool of Divine Will.
Rev Bem, Andromeda

The unforgivable crime is soft hitting.
Do not hit at all if it can be avoided; but never hit softly.
Theodore Roosevelt

The art of war is simple enough.
Find out where your enemy is.
Get at him as soon as you can.
Strike him as hard as you can
and as often as you can, and keep moving on.
Ulysses S. Grant

It is a fatal error to enter any
war without the will to win it.
Douglas MacArthur


Oh the war is common cry, Pick up you swords and fly.
The sky is filled with good and bad that mortals never know.
Oh, well, the night is long the beads of time pass slow,
Tired eyes on the sunrise, waiting for the eastern glow.
The pain of war cannot exceed the woe of aftermath,
The drums will shake the castle wall, the ring wraiths ride in black, Ride on.
Sing as you raise your bow, shoot straighter than before.
No comfort has the fire at night that lights the face so cold.
Led Zeppelin, The Battle of Evermore




He was hard pressed to keep up with the hounds, the scent of the betrayer full in their noses.

She wasn’t far – that much even he could sense – and so he let the hounds loose.

The alpha pair raced off, the younger ones ranged behind them, baying and howling for justice.


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Less than a block away from the battle scene, Jenner realized he and Hawkins weren’t the only ones heading in that direction.

Once he’d figured that out, it took him far less time to realize they were the only two likely to be on the Slayer’s side.

He said as much to Hawkins, who merely raised an eyebrow.

Before he could make a remark, Jenner forestalled him, “I know. I said I wasn’t going to. It hardly seems like a fair fight, though.” He gestured to the small house, whose front yard currently resembled a war zone.

Hawkins smothered the laugh threatening. “Can’t let Spike have all the fun.”

“Indeed.” Jenner flashed him a look, cracked his knuckles and headed into the fray.



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Faith had her back to the big tree in the front yard, preventing anyone from getting at her from behind as she methodically staked every vampire she could. She’d been fighting with her hair free until it got tangled as first Drusilla then a second vampire used it against her. She’d knotted it up around itself, using a piece of material she’d ripped off some random vampire, tying it up as best she could. Once she’d done that, she got herself over to the far side of the property, away from where Buffy and Spike were fighting. She had a vague idea Lawson had been near her, but she lost sight of him.

Four vampires surrounded her in a semi-circle and she was fighting off a surge of panic, when one then another disintegrated before her eyes. Faith looked up, trying to figure out what happened when she caught sight of Giles, aiming a glow-in the dark water pistol at another vampire. She laughed, realizing he’d been the one to take out the others and she swung the fourth vampire into the path of the holy water. Grinning up at him, Faith waved, turned around to face the next wave of vampires, only to realize there were no others in her immediate vicinity.

Inhaling deeply, her eyes scanned the front yard, calculating numbers and where she’d be most likely to help. Both Buffy and Spike were holding their own and didn’t need her assistance. Giles looked to be okay with Drusilla, and she could hear Lawson fighting with someone off to her left. Scanning the porch one more time she caught a glimpse of Oz, who was fighting a small female vampire.

A scream from inside the house drew her attention and Faith turned, running full out for the front door. Might as well go see about Willow. . . .



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Every noise reverberated inside his battered head, echoing the pain from all the wounds he was sporting. Xander knew his eyes were swollen shut, and still he persisted in trying to see, to pry them open to get a glimpse of something . . . . anything to tell him what was going on. He could hear the sounds of fighting – he thought they were outside the front door, but he had no way of knowing for certain, because he wasn’t even sure where he was. Someone had rescued him from Angel – that much he knew. Didn’t know who and didn’t know where his rescuer had gone, didn’t even know if the person was standing right in front of him.

His head felt like he’d been drinking for days then fallen flat on his nose. It was broken, because the pain was excruciating every time he tried turning his head. From the feel of the chair underneath him, he was in Buffy’s dining room, sitting . . . if he moved his hand, he should. Yup. Table. A pain-filled sigh of relief sounded from him and he knew exactly where he was.

Whoever had rescued him had brought him directly into the dining room, placing him at the corner of the table, facing the door. Okay. So that’s good. So to my right. . . . Xander reached out with his hand and felt the brush of the lace curtains. Good. So there’s the outside window.

Glass shattered in, toward him, and Xander flinched back, pushing against the table and moving it a few inches. His heart pounded, and the pain in his head increased until all he could hear was his own harsh breathing. Nothing else happened though and he settled a bit, but still he pushed further away from the window.

No vamp is gonna get a taste of me tonight . . .


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Angel swung a meaty right fist at Spike’s jaw, catching the smaller vampire on the chin. Spike stumbled back, staying on his feet. He wiped his hand across his face, sucking the blood from his hand as a low chuckle sounded in the air. “That the best you can do, old man?”

When Angel stepped forward, fist poised to strike again, Spike sidestepped, ducking low, at the same time bringing his own hand up to catch Angel’s.

In a show of sheer strength, Spike gripped Angel’s wrist, forcing the bigger vampire back, his arm bending at an uncomfortable angle. Spike’s grin got wider, as pain blossomed on Angel’s face and he began speaking. “Does this hurt, Angelus?” Spike stepped closer, bumping against Angel. “Not gonna get away with your shit this time around. Gonna pay for what you did.”

Angel snarled, fangs snapping close to Spike’s head. “You can try boy, but you’ve never beaten me before.”

Spike stepped in closer, a feral glint in his blue eyes. Pushing hard, Spike didn’t let up until he heard bones snap. “There’s always a first time for everythin’.”

A howl split the air and Angel swung his free hand up, knocking away Spike’s hold on him. “Fuck!” He kicked out, booting Spike’s shin hard. Spike dropped to his knees, his own howl of pain shaking the night.



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The snarling, writhing female vampire at his feet twisted and turned, trying to break the hold Giles had on her hair. Giles had fisted his hand in her dark tresses, holding her just at the nape of her neck, hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. Her nails dug into his leg and still he held her tight. Every time she tried turning her head to dig her fangs into him, Giles tightened his grip, forcing her closer and closer to the ground.

The vampires around Faith were gone, dusted between their combined efforts and she was scanning the fights on the lawn. Somehow in the melee, they’d turned the tide, and their opponents had shrunk to more manageable numbers.

His momentary distraction allowed Drusilla the opening she’d been waiting for. With her hands wrapped firmly around Giles’ shin, she sank her fangs into his leg, just above his knee. Giles buckled, falling heaving onto her.



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Buffy was half-aware of the fight between Spike and Angel, her eyes drawn in their direction every time she found herself without an opponent.

She flinched when Angel’s fist connected with Spike’s jaw, her own answering grin wreathing her features when Spike laughed in response. Spike’s counter blow occurred in plain sight and Buffy was hard-pressed to stifle the cheer burbling in her throat. A pair of vampires intent on approaching Faith crossed into her line of vision and Buffy lost sight of the two master vampires, focusing on her own battle.

When she was done dusting those two, she looked up in time to see Angel looming over a downed Spike. Buffy’s cry of ‘No!’ was very nearly drowned out by the shriek sounding from the house.

Completely focused on Spike, Buffy raced forward, missing Faith’s mad dash into the house.



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Oz looked across at the vampire holding his arm, and a frisson of fear raced through him. His wolf responded to the emotion, lupine adrenaline racing through his system, counteracting the fear. His eyes changed and a low growl rumbled up from his chest.

Surprised by first the smell of fear and then a feral growl rivaling her own, Rebecca snapped her jaws at the man. He was short, not much taller than she and yet he pulled away from her easily. Rebecca reeled back, preparing to strike when he pushed her, throwing her backward off the porch.

Screaming her grief and fury to the heavens, Rebecca sprang to her feet and attacked with claws and teeth, going after the odd little man who had killed her sire.



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Wesley stared at the closed door, knowing their escape route was blocked. There were two windows opposite Dawn’s bed; they appeared to be their only way out. He had no idea why Willow was intent on the children, but she was. Leaving Dawn to lean heavily on her dresser, Wesley swiftly lifted up the window and gauged the distance to the ground.

Thankfully, the roof sloped gently, making it possible for him to stand out there. The biggest problem was Dawn, she might not be able to maneuver herself out of the window or off the roof. He stuck his head back inside and he could hear Willow chanting rapidly from the other side of the door.

Tara had rigged a makeshift sling for Connor, tying him into one of Dawn’s sweaters then looping it somehow around her neck. She had one arm slung around Dawn’s waist, helping her to the window, the whole time whispering strength and healing spells, hoping something would help Dawn.

“Dawn, I know this is going to hurt, and I’m sorry for that, but we need to get you both away from danger.”

“Yeah, got that memo, Wes.” She leaned against the window frame, gasping. “How’re we gonna do this?”

“I’m not sure.” The walls shuddered, and everyone stared at the door for a second.

Dawn grimaced, sliding one leg over the windowsill. “Just help me.”

Wesley grabbed her, steadying her. Once she was through, Wesley wrapped his arms around her, supporting her. Dawn’s breath came in quick pants and in a completely unconscious gesture, he brushed a kiss across her brow.

Tara scrambled through, first passing Connor to Wesley. She landed awkwardly, almost losing her balance, but she quickly recovered.

Handing Connor back to Tara, Wesley moved to the roof’s edge. When the house shuddered again, he wobbled on his feet, while both girls stifled screams. The door creaked ominously and making a quick decision, Wesley dropped down, sitting on the edge. Smiling grimly back at the girls, he said, “Not so far to the ground. We’ll do the same here. Dawn you come first, then Tara can drop Connor into my arms.”

“Are you sure about this?” Dawn peered over the side, a look of disbelief on her face.

“Short of facing Willow, I don’t see another alternative. It’ll be fine, Dawn.” With those words, Wesley slid off the roof, rolling twice when he hit the ground.

He was back on his feet quickly, reaching up for Dawn. His fingertips brushed the underside of the roof and Dawn inhaled as deeply as she could, shared a look with Tara and sat down slowly. Trying not to let the pain overwhelm her, Dawn stared down into Wesley’s face. Swinging her legs off the roof, she fought the vertigo making her head swim.

“You sure about this?”

“C’mon Dawn, trust me. I promise I won’t drop you.”

She grumbled something he didn’t quite hear, though she gave him a grim smile. “All right, Wes. Here I come.”

Using her arms, Dawn pushed off, squealing when the pain flashed through her. Before she even realized she’d actually done it, she was being held securely in Wesley’s arms. He held her tightly, dropping another kiss on her brow. “Good girl.”

Their euphoria was short-lived, because in the next second, the walls shuddered for the third time, debris shot through the window and Tara started teetering, trying to protect Connor from flying pieces of wood and glass.



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Faith ran to the house, jumping over the slumped, unconscious Harmony, only stopping short when strange noises sounded in the dining room.

Xander was sitting in one of the chairs, his face a mass of blood and snot, both eyes swollen shut. He was holding another chair out in front of him, legs out. “Who’s there?”

“Relax, Xand, it’s just me.”

“Who? I don’t. . . .”

“Chill, dude, you’re all safe and sound. Most of the vamps are gone.”

“Faith? What the hell?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I gotta fly though, check out what’s shaking upstairs. You seen Willow?”

“Willow’s here?”

“Never mind, dude, just sit tight.”

Faith turned away, heading for the second floor, where all the noise was coming from.

She passed a barely conscious Anya, who was cradling her arm and trying to get away from the open doorway. Faith lifted her up, quickly depositing her on the couch. “She’s upstairs, going after Dawn and the baby.”

“Right.”

“Be careful. She’s really powerful.”

Faith nodded once and was running up the stairs when the house shuddered. She held onto the railing until it stopped, then kept going.



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Angel lifted his foot, swinging it back, aiming for a downed Spike, when his intended victim suddenly wasn’t there.

Spike rolled forward, underneath Angel’s raised foot, springing to his feet to Angel’s left. Just as Buffy’s fist slammed into Angel from the right, Spike hit him with a hard left. Between them, the bigger vampire was pole-axed and he faltered, weaving on unsteady feet.

Buffy circled around him, her eyes scanning over Spike’s form, checking him for injuries. He quickly did the same, his eyes warm. “You alright?”

“I’m good.”

Angel moved to throw a punch at Buffy, which Spike effectively blocked. “Oi, Peaches, I’m having a conversation with m’lady.” Spike threw a combination of punches, driving Angel back, “Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?” Another set and Angel stumbled around the side of the house. “Oh right, no need for manners in the peat bog.”

The big vampire snarled, regaining his balance, fighting back. One lucky right snapped Spike’s head back, catching the smaller vampire just under his left eye.

The house shuddered behind them and Buffy’s attention shifted upward when a familiar cry sounded. “Oh, my God! Spike!”

She watched, too far away to help, as Dawn dropped down from the roof into Wesley’s arms. Frozen with fear, Buffy couldn’t move until Dawn was safely on the ground. She raced forward when the house shuddered again and debris came shooting out of the window toward Tara and Connor, who were still on the roof.



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Lawson reeled back, his ears ringing from an unexpectedly strong blow from Glynnis, who grinned in response.

“Traitor.” She hissed at him, stalking toward him. “Going against your sire to side with Slayers.”

Shaking his head, Lawson growled back, “I am fighting with my sire, unlike you. Where is Jenner anyway?”

Glynnis snarled in response, swiping at his side, her aim off when Lawson hit the side of her face.

She stumbled and he took advantage, raining more blows on her. Glynnis was down on her knees, still spewing venom, when Jenner heard her voice.

“Glynnis.”

Freezing, she dared not look up, knowing her fate was sealed.

“Look at me, Glynnis.”

Reluctantly she stared up at her sire, her eyes filling with some unknown emotion. Involuntarily her eyes darted about, looking for assistance, a sympathetic face. Knowing whom she searched for, Jenner spoke again. “He won’t help you, Glynnis. As much as you want him too, Hawkins isn’t going to interfere.”

“Do it then. I’ll not beg you.”

“So be it.”

Jenner reached out, lifting a discarded sword from the ground.

Without another word to either Glynnis or Hawkins, who watched from behind her, Jenner swung the sword, slicing cleanly into her neck.







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