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Red Eyed Devil by Inzey
 
My love, it's free
 
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A/N:
Thanks for all the reviews, and remember to leave some at the end of this chapter too.
A big thanks and a naked Spike with a cherry on top to my great beta DreamsofSpike.

Disclaimer: I don't own the BtVS and Ats characters.
Chapter title is from "The Way I Are" by Timbaland.
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Xander outgrew his crush on Buffy when he met Maria.

She forced him to realize what he really wanted, and he happily laid down the Buffy torch and took up the Maria torch. He was content now, and was glad Maria had turned his life upside down.

He had met Maria one evening when he was hanging out with his buddies after work. He had been single for three years, but hadn’t thought too much about it. He had an apartment, a car and a good job, and despite the lack of a relationship, he was relatively satisfied with the way his life had turned out.

Maria had shocked him when they first met, walking over to him and boldly asking – no, demanding – that they should have coffee one day. He had been stunned and agreed without thinking, but never regretted it.

They had lunch the next day, and Xander was immediately taken by her. She was a beautiful woman, outspoken and bold. She never backed down from a challenge, and had been Xander’s rock when he had faced the life issues his parents had left him.

They had been dating for four months when Maria had proposed. He said yes, and six months later they had tied the knot. Maria had been pregnant when they married, but only three months, and it hadn’t shown.

It had been one of the best days of Xander’s life. He stood by the altar in a black suit, nervously twiddling his thumbs, until he saw his fiancée. She was wearing a white dress, with a long train, which her cousins and sisters carried. Her hair was decorated with white lilies, and she wore a small veil.

She had taken his hand when they stood before the priest, and smiled at him with a loving gaze. They had said their vows and exchanged rings, and she had grabbed his head, soundly kissing him.

Six months later Eric had been born.

Xander was moved to tears when he first held him in his arms, and Maria joined in, telling him that he wasn’t allowed to cry alone and that she was with him through good and bad.

Three and a half years had now passed since that moment. He had laid most of his issues behind him since then, and opted to stay away from his own parents. He didn’t want Eric to have too much to do with them, knowing that they weren’t exactly suited to be grandparents. But he didn’t have to worry about Eric lacking a pair of grandparents. Maria’s parents loved Xander like a son, and even though they had nearly a dozen kids, they still spoiled Eric rotten.

“Daddy, I want a strawberry milkshake…no, a chocolate milkshake,” Eric suddenly said, bringing Xander out of his thoughts. He grinned at his son and ruffled his hair with his free hand, making the boy duck his head and scowl at him.

“Then that’s what you’ll get,” Maria said, smiling at her husband. He nodded, and they turned toward the coffee shop. Maria and Eric chattered happily, but Xander felt the sound around him die. His eyes widened and he nearly swallowed his tongue at what he saw inside the café.

Buffy and Spike, both somewhat changed, sitting calmly and talking over cups of coffee.

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“I’m not sure I’m the best to explain this,” Willow said to Tara, her thumb stroking her partner’s wrist. She sighed, and looked away, green eyes seeing what they once saw nine years ago.

She remembered the new Slayer who came to Sunnydale three months after Buffy had left. By that time, it was only she, Oz, Xander and sometimes Cordelia who were patrolling. They had met her several days after she had arrived. She wanted them to go home and leave the slaying to her, but after some mild ‘convincing’, she was persuaded to let them tag along.

Willow wouldn’t say they were best friends, but they were friends, and Kendra was much better company than Cordelia, even if she saw the world in black and white and had the sense of humour of a tree.

Three months later she had been killed on patrol. Willow mourned her, but she wouldn’t stop fighting. It only made her more determined to slay vampires and demons.

A little later Faith blew into town, nearly made Xander cheat on Cordelia before she went homicidal. One night when she was out ‘hunting’, as she called it, she accidentally killed the Mayor of Sunnydale, unknowingly stopping his plans for The Ascension. She had been lucky and caught him before he became invincible, but she never found that out.

She was haunted by the fact that she had killed someone, even accidentally, and instead of turning herself in, she fled. Willow had followed the hunt for her on the news, crying slightly for the broken girl. She killed several more before she was caught in another state. There she was sentenced to death.

She was the last Slayer to come to Sunnydale for a while, and that made Willow slightly sad. After high school Xander gradually stopped hanging out with her, and that left only her and Oz to fight the forces of darkness.

After she had become a mother she had stopped patrolling. She didn’t want to leave her daughters without a mother, so when the newest slayer had come, she had silently sighed with relief.

“I wish I can say I saw it as something beautiful and special, but that understanding came later, after hours of reading and thinking. What I remember is seen through the eyes of a younger me, one who didn’t want to lose her only girlfriend,” Willow said, eyes widening when she caught up with her own words.

“Not girlfriend girlfriend,” she said, blushing slightly. Tara was smiling brightly at her, and she smiled back, before leaning in and stealing a kiss, which deepened and lasted a little longer than intended.

They were both a little flustered when they drew back, but they only smiled at each other and laced their hands together.

After a while a shout drew their attention away from each other, and the deep soul-gazing they had been engaged in. Gracie, or Winona Grace as she was called, shouted again and waved at them. She and her sister Buffy Oline were currently sitting on the swings, magically pushing each other.

Tara loved the girls, although they weren’t her own. She had met Willow two years ago, about seven months after she had divorced her husband, Daniel Osbourne. She was a little unsure about why they had divorced, but Willow had told her that they were over, and that Oz had no problem with her living with Willow and the girls.

Gracie and Buffy spent a day a week and every other weekend with their father, and from what he himself had told Willow and her, they were as unruly there as they were at home. Tara just hoped they wouldn’t get themselves into serious trouble one day.

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Angel sat in his limo while it drove him to his stately home in one of the richer parts of LA. Thoughts were racing through his head, most of them focused on the blonde pair consisting of his ex-girlfriend and grandchilde, whom he had been looking for since he became CEO of Wolfram and Hart.

Difficult didn’t even begin to describe how hard it had been to locate them. They were both good at hiding, and the demons in the area refused to speak, no matter how hard he tried to “convince” them.

Some of his workers still commented about their screams.

He had been too worked up to leave work, meeting with some of his department heads to inform them that he was taking a small holiday, but that they shouldn’t relax just because of that.

The limo slowed, and Angel guessed that they had driven into the underground garage of his house. A short message confirmed it, and shortly afterward the limo door was opened. Angel stepped out of the car without even looking at the driver, and walked over to the elevator leading up to the manor. He stepped inside and pressed the button, humming to himself.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Greeted him as he exited the elevator and he brought his brown eyes over to meet the blue eyes of his girlfriend, Harmony Kendall.

She was currently tapping a bare foot on the floor and looking seriously pissed off. Her pink designer suit looked spotless as always, her make-up perfectly applied and her hair without a single strand out of place.

All in all, she looked good, Angel thought. Her stylists seemed to know what they were doing, this time.

“I’ve got ears, and I can use them,” she added.

Angel merely looked at her, arching a brow slightly.

“They’ve found Buffy, and you’re traipsing off after her. Without even thinking about the fact that she’s already got a guy, and chose him over you!” Harmony said angrily, fists clenching.

“I just need to talk to her,” Angel answered calmly.

He could hear Harmony’s heart pound angrily, but he didn’t even bat an eye. Her blood sang alluringly, but he hid his bloodlust. He knew he had to appear calm and collected.

“Talk to her? Talk to her? You just want her to fall on knees and admit she was wrong in choosing Spike, and you’re all she wants,” Harmony said, scowling at him.

Angel didn’t answer; he didn’t have to.

“You think I’m just gonna stay behind, faithfully awaiting your return?” Harmony asked, glaring at him. Her eyes sparkled with anger and her mouth was set in a thin line. “I’m sick of this! I’m your girlfriend. The girl who dumped you nine years ago isn’t, and I say I won’t take it! You go after her and I’m throwing your things out. If you go, we’re through!”

Angel only looked at her, before turning around and walking away from her.

-----------------------------------

Timea sat immersed in her own thoughts, eyes closed and mind focused inward. She was sitting cross legged on her bed, hands relaxing on the pale pink sheets. Her golden curls were held back with a red bow and she was wearing a white dress.

Mary was standing in the corner and looking at her. She pitied the girl. She had been born different, Mary guessed, but she had been too small to care about it. Then suddenly a hell god had begun taking an interest in her, forcing her and her parents to go on the run. She knew Glory had caught up with them, and judging by the absence of the girls parents, had killed her mother and father.

When the mistress had heard about the Key, she had immediately gone looking for it and the hell god. She had found that Glory was impatiently waiting for the time to be right, so she could use the key and get home to her hell dimension.

The mistress had killed Glory and taken the name Godslayer, along with taking possession of the Key. She had used numerous spells on the girl and determined that she was in fact not the Key, but she was something unknown, and the mistress had decided that she had to know what she was.

Whatever else she was, Mary thought to herself, she was first and foremost a little girl. She knew the mistress might the seen as a monster to some, but to her she was a saviour. She had saved Mary from a boring and normal life, and she had saved the world when killing Glory. She had also saved Timea from being killed by Glory, and for that, Mary was immensely grateful. The girl was like daughter to her.

Unaware of her keepers’ thoughts and oblivious to the world, Timea was watching a scene unfold behind her closed eyelids. A hand twitched, but that was all.

A flash of silver. Long limbs. Sun and cracked ground.

A tall, slender woman walked over cracked sand. Sun was beating down on her back and the heat was almost unbearable. There were no trees in sight, nor any water. The wind carried a faint smell of something unnatural, but none of the things seemed to bother the woman.

The woman’s skin was silvery in hue, and her hair was steel grey. Her eyes were a mix between gold and silver, and showed age and wisdom. A grey suit a little more covering than a bathing suit adorned her muscular form and grey boots covered her legs, both from a soft, yet strong material.

She turned her head slightly, and looked over her shoulder at a muscular man walking behind her. He was sweating immensely, and his dark skin was red and slightly cracked.

“What’s up, Time, tired already?”


“The mistress is waiting for us, Timea,” Mary said, petting the girl’s hair. She turned away and went to the closet, bending down to find a pair of shoes.

Timea snapped out of her dream and glanced around, wide-eyed. This was something new, something she had never seen before. She didn’t know when that was to happen, but she knew the woman was her. And she was what she was supposed to be.

“Here, put these on, darling,” Mary said, handing over the shoes to the girl. She took them obediently and put them on, struggling somewhat with the bow. Mary bent down and helped her, silently showing her how to do it.

She crawled to the edge of the bed and jumped down, taking Mary’s hand. They faced the door and walked out, heading for the dining room.

In the hallway they passed several of the other servants, who either glowered or glared at her. Mary tugged at the girl’s hand, and they walked slightly faster. Mary knew half of them were jealous with Timea because she was valued by the mistress, and the other half thought her some kind of hell spawn.

They soon arrived before the dining room doors, and Mary knocked on them. The door opened and another servant bowed and beckoned Timea inwards. Mary was ignored, but she was used to it. She released Timea and gave her a small push, and she walked into the room.

She walked up to the table, eyes on the only occupant. When she reached the middle of the table she stopped. She stood still for a moment, eyes calmly regarding the other woman. She spread her dress and bent a leg, smiling slightly at her host.

“Do sit down, dear,” Mahira said, regarding her with cold eyes and sneering slightly. She lifted her glass and took a small sip of blood red wine. She set down the glass and swiped her tongue over her lips, catching any stray droplets.

Timea sat down in her chair and a servant immediately walked over. He poured water in her glass, before retreating. Timea carefully gripped the glass and sipped its contents, trying not to drop the glass or spill.

“How was your day, Timea dear?” Mahira asked the girl, smiling at her. Timea looked back at her, golden eyes filled with curiosity.

“Fine, thank you,” she replied evenly.

Mahira ground her teeth, nostrils flaring. She clenched her fists, but refrained from physically harming the servants bringing them dinner. She and Timea sat in silence for a while, the only sounds the rustling of their clothes and the clink of knives and forks against plates.

“When will the ritual be performed?” Timea asked suddenly, looking up.

Mahira nearly choked on the food she was currently chewing and looked at her with wide eyes. She composed herself quickly and gave her a cool smile.

“It’s coming along fine, and will be performed in a few days,” she replied calmly, looking at her for a moment, then focusing on her dinner.

Silence reigned again, and Mahira was slightly relieved. Timea was special, that was as clear as air, but sometimes she could be slightly unnerving. Not that she would ever admit to saying that.

She wasn’t human, so why should she lower herself to feeling human emotions?

 
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