[A/N: As if my real life wasn’t complicated enough, it got further complicated by incidents involving family members, and got further complicated by my own situation and then, well, on-line stuff hit the fan. And lo and behold, writer’s block hit. *sighs* I’ve been slowly working through it, and hopefully these chapters won’t reflect the difficulty I’ve been having. Tam assures me, though, that they aren’t drek. I’ll have to trust that. My thanks as always, to her for the superb and quick beta and to Addie for, well, everything else. Title and quotes are as attributed. Disclaimers in full force and effect.]

Previously: Buffy is meeting with the Seelie Court and discovering things she didn’t already know; Faith is having a moment with Jenner; and everyone else is searching for ways to get Connor back. This picks up shortly after our last installment.

Book Two. Chapter Sixty-Nine. A doubtful choice

Heaven is impartial.
Chinese proverb.

True, Heaven prohibits certain pleasures;
but one can generally negotiate a compromise.
Molière [Jean Baptiste Poquelin], Tartuffe, act 4, sc. 5

You have many choices.
You can choose forgiveness over revenge,
joy over despair.
You can choose action over apathy....
Stephanie Marston, The Divorced Parent

A doubtful choice, of these three which to crave,
a kingdom, or a cottage, or a grave.
Edward De Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford, A Choice



There was no other way around it. No other easy solution presented itself in the two hours they’d been looking since Spike’s return to the house. The longer they hesitated, the slimmer Connor’s chances got. They had to decide.

An hour earlier, Spike had gotten up then helped Dawn to her feet. “C’mon, pet, need you to do somethin’ for me.”

They shuffled slowly to the door, where Spike left her alone. “Be right back.”

He was gone only seconds and when he returned, it was with a shell-shocked Lawson trailing behind him. “Need you to invite him in, Bit.”

Dawn stared at the two vampires, looking pointedly at Lawson. A steely light glittered in her blue eyes for a heartbeat or two, and Dawn asked, “you aren’t going to hurt anyone in here, are you?”

“No.”

The one word answer was apparently enough. Dawn stepped back and with a hand on Spike’s arm for support, she said, “please come in, Lawson.”

That was the only break any of them took while searching for alternative answers. Finally Spike conceded defeat, throwing in the proverbial towel. “All right then, we’ve no choice.”

He slammed the flats of both hands down on the table, startling everyone into complete wakefulness. “We do it.”

The room was silent, everyone lost in his or her own thoughts. Giles was the first to speak, his low voice filling the room. “The prospect of using Dawn for any reason,” he paused then, giving the girl a soft apologetic look, “gives me pause. Unfortunately, I fear we’ve exhausted all other avenues.”

Dawn returned his smile, quickly looking to Spike for direction. “So what do we do now?”

“Do you remember how we closed the portal before?” Tara’s voice was soft, and she ducked her head to avoid looking at Dawn directly.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“We’re going to do the same thing. Your blood will open the gateway, while Wesley and I perform the ritual. Spike is going to go through the portal and hopefully get Connor back.”

Wesley added, “once Spike goes through the portal, the rest of us will help keep the portal open until his return.”

Dawn expected all this, but none of it really made her happy, especially this part. “Spike’s going alone?”

“Huntsman said the dogs will help. The beasties are outside, sleeping on the porch.” He was up, pacing again, unable to sit still.

At this, Giles looked up. “Is it wise to go alone?”

“Can’t bring anyone else with me. Joyce told the girls only a dead man can cross the boundaries. ‘S simple. I’m dead. I go.”

For the first time since he’d entered the house, Lawson spoke. “I can go also.”


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


“Her reasons are myriad. She cannot accept disorder, in truth she cannot abide it. Those who will not accept the negative are destined to be controlled by it.” The blond goddess motioned Buffy away from the cauldron.

“When fears are allowed to fester, they consume.”

Confusion flooded Buffy and she shook her head. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Focusing on your fears, allowing them to become real, allows those fears to consume and manifest. Accepting them lessens the fears, makes them a thing conquerable.”

There was silence between them while Ceridwen led Buffy away from the alcove, toward where Arianrhod and Gwyn waited patiently. Halfway back, Buffy suddenly stopped, everything Ceridwen had said and everything she’d just seen slammed into her and as understanding dawned, Buffy stumbled.

Gwyn was the first to her side as the Slayer crumpled. He easily lifted her slight weight, holding her close to his chest. He could feel the hitch in her breathing, a clear indication she was still crying, albeit silently. Concern and sympathy greeted his actions, and both women moved to clear the room, leaving the five of them alone.


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


No heart thumped in his chest, no blood pumped through his veins and yet his body hummed every time he touched her. Every nerve in his body pulsed, every inch of his skin thrummed. Jenner’s whole body was vibrating.

Faith’s nails raked down from his shoulder, across his chest, leaving viscous trails of blood. Her fingers pulled on his nipples and when he growled at her in warning, all she did was laugh at him.

In retaliation, Jenner slid his hand beneath her, cupping her butt in his hand. When Faith did little more than arch her hips again, Jenner changed tactics. Pinning her down with a forceful hand, he moved, his mouth hovering over her breast. Biting at her distended nipples, Jenner teased his length against her dripping pussy.

Faith scratched at him, snarling and bucking while he bit down a little too hard. “Bastard.”

There was just enough surrender and heat in her voice, letting him know she wasn’t entirely adverse to his rough play. Jenner grinned, knowing he had her.

Using his free hand, Jenner held himself poised at her entrance, then looked up at Faith from under dark brows. “You will scream.”

“No, I won’t.”

Jenner’s only response was a low chuckle and the thrust of his cock inside her. Without any hint of tenderness, he thrust hard, lodging himself deep inside.

“Yeah, Faith, you will.”


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


Once they were certain of the ritual and just sure Lawson was about accompanying Spike, they wasted no time getting supplies assembled.

Tara was steadily drinking orange juice, and both Wesley and Spike had insisted she eat a rare hamburger or steak before they attempted the portal opening. When she balked, Spike had pulled out all stops, asking her, “You don’t wanna make any mistakes coz you’re feelin’ a bit poorly, do you? Need you to be full strength, pet, so’s all goes well.”

She stared at him, unable to believe, for the moment, that he would actually manipulate her that way. “You know, Spike, that’s not fair.”

He feigned innocence. “Wha?”

Tara didn’t bother to hide her smile. “You know exactly what.” Staring at him for a minute longer, she relented. “Fine. I’ll eat a burger, but not raw or ever too rare.”

“Don’t much care how you cook it, Glinda, so long as you eat it.” Satisfied she was going to do as he wished, Spike headed upstairs to get a few of Connor’s things.

Anya was flitting about during their whole exchange, cleaning and preparing the backpacks the two vampires were taking with them. Giles was conferring with Wesley on the details of the ritual, both men keeping half an ear open for Spike’s return.

Lawson sat quietly with Dawn, watching everything. He wasn’t sure what to think about these humans his sire spent time with, unable to comprehend his acceptance into their group. He had no illusions that any one of them would let him live should he turn on them, but Lawson didn’t know how to explain that he wasn’t about to do that. It had been nearly sixty years since he’d felt anything like this and he wasn’t about to throw it away because he was hungry.

Instead, he politely asked the girl sitting beside him, “Excuse me, Dawn? But I need to get something to eat before I go. Is there somewhere I can get blood?”

Dawn stared at him for a minute, then broke into an embarrassed smile. “Ooops. I forgot.” Then she called out, “Anya, could you heat two mugs of blood for Spike and Lawson? There’s stuff in the fridge on the bottom shelf.”

Before she finished speaking, Anya had plopped a mug down in front of Lawson. “Already done, Dawn.” And with a pointed look at the speechless vampire, Anya continued, “if you need more it’s in the refrigerator. You can heat it in the microwave.”

Spike came thundering down the stairs, the backpack that doubled as Connor’s baby bag clenched tightly in his fist. “Think I got everythin’.”

Spying the mug in Lawson’s fist, Spike said, “Demon girl, got any there for me?”

“Sure, Spike, there’s more inside. I’ll warm it up.” Anya moved into the kitchen, to get more blood and to finish cooking Tara’s burger.

Once they’d all eaten, and everything was in place, Spike helped Dawn outside, his arm around her waist, both of them moving at her slow pace. Wesley, with help from Anya and Lawson had set up a makeshift pool, by stealing a small plastic kiddie pool from the neighbor’s two doors away. The pool had been washed and refilled, the water sanctified by a brief ritual and the small addition of salt and other herbs.

They were as ready as they could be, and with a quick kiss on Dawn’s forehead, Spike stepped back, allowing the girls room to maneuver.

Taking a deep breath, Tara grasped hold of Dawn’s right hand, and with her athame, swiped a thin cut down the middle of her palm. Closing the younger girl’s fist over, Tara held it over the pool, her voice chanting softly. After a few words, Wesley and Giles joined her, adding their voices and power to Tara’s.

A rift opened in the sky, starting at about the same spot Connor had been before Willow blasted him, arrowing down to the ground, just feet from where the group was standing. Instead of watching the rift widen, Spike kept his eyes on the girls, making sure they were okay. Both of them seemed to be holding up, although he could see the effects of her exertions beginning to show on Tara’s face.

Long before he thought they were ready, Wesley pointed toward the shimmering opening, saying, “It’s time, Spike.”

Pushing Lawson ahead of him, Spike grabbed their packs and, with a last look at Dawn, he turned to go. As he stepped into the portal, Spike said, “Watch out for the girls. If you have to, close the gate an’ get us later.”

And the two vampires were gone.


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


She came to slowly, the strange scents and feel of unusual fabrics tickling her senses. At first, Buffy wasn’t entirely certain of her whereabouts, and she held off opening her eyes as long as possible, until the amused voice of one of her hosts’ signaled their awareness of her state.

“Come, now, child, I know you’re awake.”

Somewhat grudgingly, Buffy grumbled, “You sound a lot like my mother used to.”

Her companion laughed, reveling in the unexpected response. “I’ll take that as a compliment, my dear. Are you feeling any better?”

Buffy finally rolled over onto her back, flopping one hand off the edge of the chaise. “Yeah. Sort of. My brain is all confused, though.”

“That comes as no surprise.” Arianrhod moved into Buffy’s line of sight, a kind smile on her face. “Betrayal is a vicious blade, my dear. Wielded only by those close enough to use it effectively. It cuts the deepest also, because it is a heart-strike.”

Buffy sat up, leaning on her elbows, watching the goddess move about the room. “What do you mean?”

“Only those we love can betray us.” The goddess fized her dark purple eyes on the slight form of the Slayer. “You have felt this before. Although, I believe this time has proven to be the deepest cut of all.” Arianrhod sat down on the edge of the chaise, an elegant hand reaching for Buffy’s. “Your Willow has yet to understand she cannot control others. Deep inside, she is still a little girl, unable to control ought.”

“So that’s what she wanted. Control, right?” Buffy sat up a straighter, searching for some answers.

The goddess nodded. “It wasn’t so much power, though she has much of that.” She shook her head slowly, sadness creeping into her eyes. “There is much potential within her, and sad I am to watch it go to waste.”

Buffy stared at the other woman, her thoughts whirling in her head from one subject to the next. “I can’t help her, can I?”

A sigh ripped from the other. “No, I don’t believe you can.”

Silence filled the room, both women lapsing into deep contemplation. Their words from earlier kept surfacing in Buffy’s head, especially the ones about heaven. She was curious about the description – and non-Christian heroes being welcomed. If there was a place where any kind of hero was able to go after dying. . . . Buffy fought against the flicker of hope surging through her. Maybe. . . .

“What you said before, about heaven, was that really how things are?”

Brief confusion crossed her companion’s features and then an amused half-grin rested on her lips. “How things are? You mean in my hall?”

“Is that what it’s called?”

“Caer Arianrhod is my hall, yes. And what exactly are you asking me?”

“You said no Christians. Did you mean that? About any heroes?” Buffy’s expression was earnest, her hazel eyes glowing with green and gold lights.

Real laughter filled the other’s gaze and Arianrhod’s smile grew wider as she answered Buffy’s unspoken question. “Any hero. Male or female. . . . Human or not. All are welcome in my hall.”

“So, if any hero is welcome, then, ah. . . there would be room for a vampire.” Buffy held her breath, hoping the goddess would understand what it was Buffy was asking of her.

Arianrhod didn’t disappoint. “When the time comes, the doors of my hall will be open, for both of you.”

The grin she received in response was blinding and Arianrhod could do nothing but laugh.


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


Hawkins walked the streets of Sunnydale, his mind refusing to think about either his sire or Glynnis. Thinking about either threatened to break his heart. He didn’t know which way to turn. Part of him needed the comfort and security of his sire’s presence, but a bigger part of him was so immeasurably angry over the night’s events.

He hadn’t let his emotions rule him in a very long time, and Hawkins was determined not to give in now. Time was something he needed, time to come to grips with losing Glynnis and time to forgive Jenner.

Instead of heading for the hotel, Hawkins headed for the racing sloop Jenner had ordered sailed from Bristol to New York, while the rest of them made the trip by air. Jenner would forgive him, eventually. But for right now, Hawkins didn’t much care about Jenner’s reaction.

Barking out orders to the demon crew, Hawkins headed below decks, just beating out the sun.


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


Spike stepped through the portal, almost bumping into Lawson’s back. The other vampire had stopped short, reluctant to head into the muted sunlight.

“Watch it, mate, you’re blocking the door.” Realizing what had stopped his companion, Spike stepped next to him, gazing out at the barren landscape. “Have you tried yet?”

“No, was waiting for you.” The hounds sat quietly at their feet, both of them waiting for signals from their temporary owner.

Before letting them loose, Spike inhaled deeply, then stepped forward into the blue-tinged sunlight. Anticipating having to run back into the shade, Spike was poised to move quickly, but after a few moments, it was clear he wasn’t in any danger.

“C’mon then, let’s get a move. Won’t find the boy hiding in the shadows.”

Lawson took two steps forward, obviously wary of the strange light. “You sure about this, chief?”

“Got no choice. Have to get the sprog, bring ‘m home.” Spike clucked his teeth and the hounds stood to attention. “Can’t leave the babe to fend for himself. He’d never last.”

Bending down, Spike unzipped the boy’s backpack, searching for something of his the hounds could use to track Connor’s scent. Finding a sleeper, Spike held it out. “They’ll be much faster than you an’ I could be. With luck, they’ll find him right quick.”

The hounds sniffed at the dark blue sleeper, growling low in their throats. The first, a black red-brindled male sniffed low to the ground, scenting for the boy, while the second, a mostly dark red female, sniffed at the air. As one, they howled, catching the scent at the same moment.

Spike shared a look with Lawson, and together they set off to follow the hounds.


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

“Are you ready to make a decision?” Gwyn interrupted, standing in the doorway, watching the two women.

Buffy shrugged, her mood altered by the question and the intrusion. Sliding out from beneath the blankets covering her, Buffy stared sightlessly at the wall hangings. “I don’t know. What happens if I decide not to forgive Willow?”

The Lord of the Wild Hunt sighed, stepping further into the room. “Then she ceases to exist.”

“So Willow dies. What happens to me?” Buffy still wouldn’t look at either of them, reaching out a hand to touch the rich blue fabric in front of her. It’s so blue. I wonder if Spike’s eyes would be this blue in sunlight?

“You have another choice.” The two gods shared a look behind Buffy’s back that would have been impossible for her to interpret had she seen it.

“Another one? Why so many?” She finally turned then, to stare at the other two. “What have you got for me this time?”

“Your choice, if you decide not to forgive Willow, would be to stay in Arianrhod’s hall, where you’ve earned your place.”

“I could stay here? What happens then?”

“You stay here, and nothing from the moment of your death occurs.”

Buffy looked between them, the horrifying choice laid out before her. Stay here, in heaven or go back to Sunnydale.

Heaven. . . where she was done, all her battles fought and there was nothing but peace.

Sunnydale . . . where who knew how many more fights waited, where she wasn’t done at all – and there wasn’t any peace – except for what small moments she found in Spike’s arms.

Heaven.

Or Spike. . . .








How would you choose?