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Red Eyed Devil by Inzey
 
Time to be a big girl
 
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A/N: This is set nine years Blue Eyed Saviour.

Thanks to my fab beta DreamsofSpike and remember to leave a review.

Disclaimer: I don't own the BtVS and the AtS figures. But all others are mine.
Chapter title is from Fergie's "Big girls don't cry".

In LA:

A handsome man sat in a luxurious office, his fingers clasped in front of him on the desk, his eyes locked on a nervous man standing before his desk. The executive had brown hair which he had styled carefully, and sad, brown eyes which reflected past sins. He wore a dark suit, a white shirt, and a black tie, all of which looked new, as if the outfit was just bought the day before. Wolfram and Hart’s CEO continued to stare at the man in front of him, noting his fear and smiling slightly.

“Mr. Angel, sir?” the man asked, visibly trembling now. He was well aware of his boss’s temper; it was widely renowned throughout the office. The man was just an office worker, assigned to watcher duty, and he was the one who had the poor fortune of telling their boss about the news.

The Senior Partners had been delighted when Angel finally joined Wolfram and Hart three years ago. He had spent five and a half years before that as a private detective/evil fighter in LA, annoying the Senior Partners deeply. Now he was CEO of the LA branch of Wolfram and Hart, and lived a life of luxury.

“Yes?” Angel replied, his gaze never faltering. The man licked his lips nervously and Angel’s smile widened. He enjoyed intimidating his employees to an extent, but it quickly lost its appeal. It was nearing the end of the work day, and Angel was tired. He knew that when he got home he had warm, human blood on tap and a willing pussy waiting for him, and he began to long for work to be over.

Three years after Angel had come to LA, he had met Cordelia while investigating a case. She was between jobs and he offered her a job, which she took. Six months later he and Cordelia finally slept together, and the result was that he lost his soul. He began terrorizing her, until she had some help from Ms Calendar, a teacher from Sunnydale. He was reensouled, but Cordelia said that she didn’t want to be in a relationship with him any longer. She quit her job at Angel Investigations and became an actress.

Doyle, who had worked with them, died a year later, but he transferred his powers to a young girl they had saved from another dimension, Fred. She held the attention of the street-wise demon hunter Gunn, and they had a steady relationship, until Fred died from the fatal visions. Gunn left Angel Investigations, and Angel began working at Wolfram and Hart. They anchored his soul, and he met Harmony Kendall two years later. They had been going steady since then.

“My name is Weyr, and I work on a special project, Project Slayer Watch. We just discovered that the subjects have left London. We had not seen them for two days, and ended up having to send in a camera to check if they were there. They must have slipped away unnoticed,” the man said, hunching over slightly, as if expecting dire consequences for his bad news.

“Why wasn’t this noticed before?” Angel asked in a calm yet deadly voice, anger shining in his eyes. His hands were now gripping the desk, making deep imprints in the wood. His nostrils flared as he inhaled, his demon revelling in the smell of fear coming from the man.

“As I said, sir, we just discovered it,” the man said, his voice shaking. He looked ready to bolt, and Angel sighed. He dismissed him silently with a wave of his hand as he stood up. Harmony would just have to wait. He had a Slayer to catch.

Whether she knew it or not, Buffy would be his.

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Meanwhile, in Sunnydale:

“It is coming. I can feel it, swooping down towards us like a big eagle. It’s light! Oh, so bright,” a girl said, her voice strangely serene.

Her hair was corn-yellow and curly, held back by a red, silk band. Her face was pale, as if she didn’t get enough sun, but she seemed healthy enough otherwise. Her face was plump and she didn’t appear to be starving. She was wearing a white silk dress to her knees, a red band tied around her waist. She could be no more than four years old.

The girl’s eyes were closed, and she was sitting Indian style on a big bed. The curtains were drawn, but the room was light. The bed was lush and inviting, and on the floor several dolls were lying, discarded in mid-play.

“Light!” another voice exclaimed, full of loathing and disgust.

The voice belonged to a woman standing before the girl on the bed. She was 6’9” and slender like a willow. She had flowing black hair and black eyes, hard like obsidian. She was wearing a long, black silk dress and on her fingers she wore several heavy rings.

“The eagle, the eagle! Oh, how he flies, so free. I wish I was an eagle,” the girl said, the last words becoming lower and lower until they died away.

The tall woman sneered and clenched her fists. Apparently the girl had only had a brief vision, before returning to her weird muttering. The woman turned and began walking toward the door, but she halted and turned around.

“Timea, dear, we are dining at eight o’clock. Miss Mary will give you your bath before we eat. Do be a good girl and do as she says,” the woman said, smiling at the girl, though her smile never reached her eyes. She sneered when the girl opened her eyes and stared back at her. Her eyes were pure gold, and they unnerved the woman.

“I promise, Miss Mahira. Aren’t I always a good girl?” she replied in the same peaceful voice as before. She smiled brightly at the woman, but her eyes remained solemn. Mahira sneered again, spun around and slammed the door behind her.

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At a cemetery in Sunnydale:

“Eileen!” a man shouted.

He was running through the trees, his breath coming in harsh, shallow puffs. He stopped and bent over, hands on his thigh, breathing heavily. He was wearing a tweed suit and his hair was combed neatly back. He had a large cross in one hand and a medium sized sword in the other hand.

“Eileen!” he yelled again, straightening. His grey eyes were worried, and he looked around nervously. He held his breath, trying to hear if he could hear fighting, but he heard nothing. He released his breath and looked around again.

“There you are, Oscar. Giddy up, old chap! Where is that famous Watcher stamina?” a young girl said, bursting through the bushes in front of the man. He startled and lifted the cross, but lowered it when he saw that it was only his charge.

“Eileen, I applaud your enthusiasm, but it would please me if you could at least take some pauses, to let me catch up with you,” the man said, still trying to catch his breath. The girl only grinned at him, but she obliged, and sat down on an old gravestone. She was fingering a stake, now and then tapping it against her thigh.

“You about ready, Oscar?” she asked him, brown eyes focused on the man. He nodded and she jumped off the tombstone, hands brushing off any dirt she might have gotten on her clothes. She dragged her fingers through her dirty blonde hair before collecting it in a pony tail. She grinned at the man and together they continued their patrol.

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At a bookshop in Sunnydale:

An aged man sat in his office in a bookshop in Sunnydale, his thoughts far away. His hair was grey and he wore glasses. In his hand he held a book entitled The Marleous Codex of Prophecies. It was open and he was studying the pages with feigned interest.

His thoughts were elsewhere, as they had been often the last nine years. His mind was occupied with a young girl whom he had only know for about a year, yet had come to love. He realized only afterward the grave error he had made, and by then it had been too late to apologize.

She was gone.

He had betrayed a girl who had viewed him as her father, because he thought he was doing the right thing, and because he had been narrow-minded. He had wrongfully believed that all demons were bad, and had paid the price.

He had lost his charge, his Slayer.

Giles came back to himself and realized that the page he had been staring at was quite interesting. He found a notebook and a pencil, and began writing down what he was reading. It was a fascinating text, and as many prophecies before it, it piqued his interest.

It was a new hobby of his. Studying prophecies and interpreting them. He had found many interesting ones, and many that were perplexing, yet he continued to study them. But the current one was beyond interesting. It was not the first one that mentioned The Golden Child.

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In an apartment in Sunnydale:

In a comfortable apartment two women were sitting together on a couch, feet entwined and holding hands. On the table in front of them two cups of chamomile tea stood, along with a book and two worn dolls.

“Tired?” one of them asked. She had dirty blonde hair hanging loose around her face and warm blue eyes. One hand was clasped in the other woman’s hand, while the other was gliding gently through her lover’s hair.

“Uhuh…” the other woman said, green eyes focused on her companion. The blonde still had her fingers in the other woman’s red locks, and the redhead sighed in contentment.

“You are, like, a pro at this, you know,” Willow said, closing her eyes and leaning her head back. Tara, her girlfriend, chuckled gently, and continued her ministrations.

“Were Buffy and Gracie easy to put to bed?” Tara asked Willow, making her groan. Tara laughed, guessing the answer.

“Easy? When are they ever easy?” Willow asked her, yawning.

Being a mother was tiring.

Being a mother to twins was exhausting -- especially these twins.

“Buffy cut off all of Gracie’s hair, and Gracie turned Buffy’s pink dress blue. Sometime I think we should just lock them in separate rooms until they are 20. Would that make us bad?” Willow asked, giggling slightly.

“No, I don’t think so. Besides, with the potential these two have, they would be out of there in an hour,” Tara said, bending forward and taking her tea cup. She drank a few mouthfuls, before setting it back on the table.

“So, you were going to tell me the story behind Buffy’s name,” Tara said, letting her fingers slip down onto Willows shoulders, starting to massage her gently.

“Well, it all started when Buffy Summers came to Sunnydale,” Willow began.

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In a house in Sunnydale:

A man sat in front of the television, brown hair neatly combed back, brown eyes focused on a woman coming towards him. She sat down beside him and leaned her head on his shoulder, sighing.

“Eric didn’t want to sleep,” she said, closing her dark brown eyes. She dragged a tanned hand through her black hair and sighed again. The man placed an arm around her shoulders, and she smiled, closing her eyes.

“Let me guess, he said it while he was yawning?” the man asked, grinning. He began kneading his wife’s shoulders and she moaned, rolling her shoulders. He knew she was tired -- hell he was too -- but it was still a little early to go to bed.

“Of course he did, Alexander. Doesn’t he always?” the woman asked Xander, who merely replied by nodding. Their son rarely wanted to go to bed, but he knew that was normal with kids.

His own childhood had been bad, but it had improved after he met Willow. She had saved him more than she knew, and for that he was eternally thankful. They had met Jesse later, and from that moment it had been the three of them, and life has been bearable, at least when he wasn’t at home.

Home had always been bad.

But everything had changed when they had started high school, when Buffy came to Sunnydale. He had had an instant crush on her, and it had lasted long after she had gone. But not everything had been good when Buffy moved to Sunnydale. With her she brought along the knowledge of everything that went bump in the night, and Jesse had been turned by a vampire. What had been the worst was that Xander was the one who had to stake him.

Everything had been fine for nearly a year, until Buffy found out she was going to be killed. She ran and met a vampire in an alley, a vampire she didn’t kill. Instead she got married to him, in a weird vampire ritual. She didn’t die, but Giles kidnapped her and they were going to take her to London, but the vampire had saved her and they had left.

After Buffy had left, he and Willow stayed together, knowing about the things that lurked in the night, and knowing there wasn’t much they could do, not without Giles, who, unfortunately, had gone back to England. After high school Willow had started college in Sunnydale with her boyfriend Oz. They had been together since second year of high school.

Xander hadn’t gone to college, opting instead to work. At that time he was single. He had been together with Cordelia since the second year of high school, but during third year they had broken up. All Xander knew was that Cordelia had left Sunnydale.

After high school he began to spend less time with Willow, instead hanging out with the guys he worked with at the construction site. He ignored the things he heard that might indicate something supernatural, trying to live like the rest of the citizens of Sunnydale, in blissful denial. Two years later he met Maria, a pretty Hispanic woman. They completed each other, and a little over a year later they got married. Six months later they became parents to a beautiful boy named Eric.

“Have I told you today how much I love you, Maria?” Xander suddenly asked his wife, making her blink. She smiled lovingly at him and nodded her head. He knew he told her that he loved her often, but he just wanted her to be sure. He wanted her to be happy and he wanted Eric to be happy, and he wanted them to be safe.

Yes, life in blissful ignorance was good.

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1620 Revello Drive:

A blonde woman, an olive skinned man, an olive skinned woman and a brunette man were seated around a table. Empty, used plates stood in front of them and they occasionally sipped wine from their glasses.

“An exquisite meal as usual, Joyce,” the dark man said, black hair shining in the flickering candle light. He laid his hand over her hers, and in the light the gold band around his finger flashed.

The blonde woman, smiled at him and blushed slightly. Even though she had been married to Alfredo for over three years, she still blushed when he gave her compliments. They had met when Joyce had visited her daughter and her ‘husband’ in Italy five years ago. They had exchanged e-mail addresses and shortly after they corresponded daily.

“If too many get a taste of this we’ll have restaurant owners fighting over you,” the black haired young woman said with a twinkle in her eyes. She was holding the brunette’s hand, and he occasionally threw her loving glances.

“Thank you, Rebecca,” Joyce said, blushing even more. The three others smiled at her.

“Only a few days left now, Jake. You two about ready?” Joyce asked, smiling at her stepdaughter and her fiancé. They smiled at each other lovingly before turning back to Joyce and nodding.

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At the same time, on the outskirts of Sunnydale:

An old, black car came to a halt on a hill overlooking Sunnydale. The sun had just set and the sky was like a painting. Stars began to dot the dark blue sky, and a nearly full moon was shining brightly.

The car’s engine was killed, and everything was silent. Soon the car was shrouded in darkness and sounds began appearing. A bat flew by overhead, a fox trotted across the road...and a car door opened.

Out of the passenger side stepped a woman with long blonde hair in a braid, sparkling green eyes and a smile on her face. She was lean and muscular, and appeared to be just over twenty years old. She sat down on the hood of the car, and waited for her companion to exit the car.

He did not disappoint, and stepped out of the car right after she had sat down on the hood. He too was muscular and lean, but he was a little taller than the woman. He had blindingly white hair, expressive sapphire eyes and cheekbones sharp as knives. He wore all black, and over that he wore a black leather duster.

“Good to be back, kitten?” he asked, stepping up and standing between her legs. He let his arms encircle her waist, and buried his face in the crook of her neck. He inhaled her scent, and gently nipped at her exposed skin.

“I’m looking forward to seeing our family, and my old friends, but I’ve got bad memories from here, too,” she said, eyes focused on the dark town. She seemed to be lost in her own thoughts, and the man knew what she was thinking of. This was the town where her father figure betrayed her and sold her out to the ones he worked for.

“Did we do the right thing in coming back here, Spike?” she asked, closing her eyes and sighing. She hoped that it wouldn’t be too bad to come back her, because she had some good memories of this town, and both her family and friends resided here.

“I dunno, luv. But we promised we would come to the big feast,” he answered her, stroking her back.

She sighed and opened her eyes again, bringing her hand up to his face to lift it, meeting his lips in a passionate kiss. He growled lustfully, and she answered him, her fingers tangling in his hair.

They broke apart slowly, resting forehead against forehead, both panting for breath. Both felt a little better, as though they could take on the world, and they both knew that it was because they had each other.

Together they could take on whatever this town threw at them...again.

 
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