With All My Heart
Chapters Seven ~ Nine
Chapter 7
They gathered in a conference room provided by the hotel. Buffy refused to allow any of them within arms reach of her.
“And the first time I feel one of them trying to get into my head, I’m out of here,” she told Spike.
The hotel had thoughtfully provided pastries, juice and coffee for the meeting. Buffy glowered at Spike when he set three of the sticky confections in front of her with a big glass of orange juice.
“Can I at least have some coffee?” she snarled.
“The juice has vitamins. Coffee has none. What do you think?”
She knew by the stubborn set of his jaw that there was no use in arguing with him. Not even her famous pout was going to work for this. Although she was still feeling stuffed from the enormous breakfast he had practically forced down her throat, she snatched up a pastry and took a vicious bite, puffing her cheeks out like a chipmunks and glaring up at him while she chewed.
Spike leaned over her from his place behind her chair and dropped an indulgent kiss on her hair, laughing when she swatted at him half-heartedly.
Their odd byplay wasn’t overlooked by anyone else seated at the table. Reactions varied, but the overall response was disbelief. Those from Sunnydale had seen Spike protective of Buffy before, but this was different. Never before had Buffy been so relaxed in his presence, free with the touches and kisses and demanding that he not stray from her side.
Buffy studied each of them in turn. Giles was staring at the Clone with a mixture of relief and horror on his face. Willow kept her head down and her eyes on the table, an unbecoming blush mottling her cheeks. Kennedy sat stiffly at her side, practically in Willow’s lap, and glared at Buffy. After giving her a scornfully dismissive look, Buffy moved on.
Xander. Not much had changed there. His remaining eye was still filled with familiar hatred as he glared at Spike.
The Immortal lounged with boneless indolence in his chair, his expression one of complete boredom until he glanced at Buffy. The spark of carnal curiosity incited a low growl of warning from the blonde vamp behind her.
Kim sat as close to Angel as possible but her eyes were fixed lustfully on Spike. Buffy had to stifle her own growl of jealousy. Apparently someone had had a sudden change of heart about ‘evil, soulless demons’.
Angel was looking decidedly uncomfortable as well, his expression even broodier than normal if that were possible. His eyes moved from Buffy to the blond menace standing sentinel behind her chair, narrowing when Spike leaned forward and whispered some comment in her ear.
Buffy spat a mouthful of juice across the table, choking and sputtering while Spike pounded on her back, grinning unrepentantly.
“Care to share the joke with the rest of the class, William?” Angel grumped.
“I was just tellin’ the Slayer how you reek of clone.”
“Cologne?” Angel’s brows drew together. “But, I’m not wearing any cologne.”
Buffy’s snickers became a full-out belly laugh as she leaned weakly against Spike, hiding her face in his coat.
“CLONE. Not COLOGNE, you git!”
None of the others saw the humor in the situation. In fact, they seemed amazed to see Buffy indulging in a fit of mirth at Angel’s expense.
“Whoa! Tough crowd,” she muttered when she finally lifted her face from its shelter of black leather and bore their censorious scrutiny.
“Can we get on with this, please?” Giles begged.
“Get on with what? The fact that you gave my face and my memories to some skeezy skank that had a sexual field day with my nearest and dearest? Is that what we’re here for, Giles?”
“Buffy, it was…” Willow stammered to a halt when those fiery green eyes landed on her.
“Wrong? A mistake of monumental proportions? Stop me when I get it right.”
She rose to her feet; hands braced on the surface of the table, and divided her jaundiced stare between her Watcher and her oldest friend. “For some reason, the two of you think that you have the right to control me like I’m some kind of puppet. No part of my life is sacred to you. To ANY of you.”
She straightened and began to pace restlessly back and forth in front of them. “I’m sure you’ve all figured out by now exactly why I left in the first place. Why I took such pains to shield myself from discovery.”
Willow flushed even more and pressed her lips together, refusing to voice her thoughts on the matter.
Giles wearily pulled his glasses off his face. “Am I correct in assuming that you overheard our conversation about altering your memories?”
“Conversation? Sounded more like plotting in the dark of night to me. And altering? I’d say removing every memory I had of Spike would have amounted to just a bit more than ‘altering’, wouldn’t you?”
“They cared about you! They wanted to do something to ease your pain, you ungrateful bitch!” Kennedy burst out, throwing a protective arm around her sobbing girlfriend.
Buffy barely spared her a glance. “How about it, Wills? Let’s take all your memories of Tara and erase them from your mind.” She turned to Giles. “Or your memories of Jenny.” Then Xander. “Every single minute you spent with Anya. Gone.”
Her pacing brought her back to Spike’s side and she placed herself directly in front of him, her eyes wet with tears as she gazed up at him. “Every word. Every touch. Every kiss. The good times and the bad.” She reached up to caress his cheek before whirling to face their chagrined expressions. “Think on that and tell me that any of you would have let that happen without a fight.”
“You weren’t in your right mind even before he closed the Hellmouth, Buffy.” Xander spoke up in a voice that cracked with the force of his bitter feelings. “Once he was gone, you were even more irrational. Well, that and falling down drunk!”
There would never be such a thing as suitably chastised for any of them in her book, but in her opinion, Xander Harris was the worst of all of them.
“You,” she snapped out, “have no right to sit there and be so fucking judgmental. Spike saved your LIFE, Xander. If it weren’t for him, you’d be completely blind instead of able to audition for the lead in The Pirates of Penzance.”
She stared them all down relentlessly. “Time after time he’s had to prove himself to us, and I’m just as guilty as the rest of you for taking advantage of him.” A sad, bittersweet smile curved her lips as she cast her eyes down. “Only the ways I used him were far, far worse than anything the rest of you could ever have dreamed up.”
“Buffy—“
Turning to face him, she laid a finger across Spike’s lips to silence his protest. The chiding digit became a heartbreakingly gentle caress back and forth over the soft pad of his lower lip. “Fortunately, he’s decided to give me a chance to make it all up to him. Right?”
“An eternity,” he replied nipping at her fingertips with a promise for later in his eyes.
“None of this is up for discussion.” Buffy ruthlessly cut Giles off before his protests could be voiced. “This is me, telling all of you; it’s over. I’m done.”
“But, Buffy,” Angel once again tried to extricate himself from the clinging limpet at his side. “How can you turn your back on your sacred duty?”
Once again with the fucking pedestals, Buffy thought bitterly. “I think I’ve done more than my share, Angel. Besides,” a little devil urged her on. “Don’t you think my little stunt double can get the job done?”
For once he didn’t make with the puppy dog eyes. In fact, he was clearly pissed. “Look, I can see how you might be upset with your friends over their deception, but I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“You haven’t, huh?”
“No, I haven’t!”
Buffy gave Spike’s hand a reassuring squeeze and walked around the table until she stood beside Angel’s chair. Her eyes glinted like emeralds as she gazed down at him. She leaned down and whispered loudly in his ear, “Care to compare prophecies, Angel?”
His flinch at her calmly voiced question told her all she needed to know. Buffy looked across the table at Spike, her heart breaking at the look of dawning understanding on his face.
“You fucking lied to me?” he demanded, his face twisting with pain. Betrayed by Angelus. Why was he surprised?
It was all Angel could do to keep from squirming under the intensity of the looks directed his way. Even The Immortal had dropped his bored façade and was glaring at him with narrowed eyes.
“Could I talk to you outside for a minute, Buffy?” he hissed, ignoring the growl that ripped from Spike at his suggestion.
“Nope. We’re all friends here, right? There is nothing you have to say to me that can’t be said in front of the others.” Maybe she should feel ashamed of herself for the way she was treating him. Buffy cast a quick glance at Spike.
No.
Angel deserved all this and more for doing his part to keep them separated.
“I’ll show you my prophecy, if you show me yours,” she taunted, pulling a folded paper from her back pocket and waving it in the air.
“I’m perfectly willing to let you look at my copy, cara.” The Immortal slid to his feet and offered her his paper with a flourish. “And now you, my friend,” he nudged Angel.
Clenching his jaw, Angel ripped his copy from his pocket and flung it at her.
Without bothering to thank either of them, Buffy carried them back to her seat and spread them out in front of her. “Spike, you know Italian, right?” The Immortals copy was written in his native language. “I’d have him read it, but you know how things get lost in translation.”
Buffy offered The Immortal a distracted smile. “No offense intended.”
He dipped his head regally. “None taken, mia bellezza,” he said. She was a gorgeous creature, full of fire and passion, but it was plain to see that she burned for only one. ‘You lucky, lucky man’, The Immortal mused as he gazed at Spike. Once he had seen the actual Slayer, he had toyed with the idea of using thrall on her to see how things might progress, but now he realized it would be pointless. Any attempt to come between these two would meet with disaster for the one so stupid as to interfere.
The antics of the imitation slayer caught his attention. She had ceased twining herself around Angel and was now concentrating all her efforts on the vamp that got away. She watched every move he made through hooded eyes, squirming in her chair, licking her lips and pouting them in the blond vampire’s direction. The Immortal had to hide his amusement. Why intercede on her behalf? Every man loved a good cat fight and he was no exception.
Unable to resist the urge to have a look at the three prophecies, Giles left his set and sidled closer. “I-If I may ask, Buffy, where did you obtain your copy?”
“Straight from the source,” she said flippantly. “I know Angel got his from the evil lawyers, but where did you get your copy from, Morty?”
Flinching at her use of that horrendous nickname, The Immortal answered her none-the-less. “From the Council of Watchers.”
Giles blanched. His panicked gaze sought out Willow’s. “I…That is to say—“
Spike smirked. “That would be you, mate.”
“This just keeps getting better and better.” Buffy rolled her eyes dramatically. She watched over Spike’s shoulder as he finished writing down his translation of The Immortals prophecy. He passed it to her, snatching a quick, juicy kiss for his efforts.
Lining the three papers up on the table, she began ticking off the differences, her voice growing ever more incredulous with each manipulated stanza.
Buffy raised her eyes to meet those of the Italian. “Your copy is almost the same as mine,” she told him, flicking a quick glance at Giles and Willow. She had an awful feeling that even more of their perfidy would be revealed in a very short time.
“But you’ve been mislead. If you want to leave now, you can. On the other hand, if you want to hang around and find out why you were basically lied to, that’s cool too.”
The Immortal waved one hand languidly. “I will stay.” No amount of money could induce him to leave.
“Your copy is completely different, Angel. Care to enlighten us?”
“Obviously someone made a mistake while translating it,” he said dismissively, avoiding her searching gaze.
Buffy braced her hands on the table and tilted her head back, shaking her hair in a flirtatious manner that reminded those that knew her of the old Buffy.
Knowing the move was purely for his benefit, Spike stifled a groan and turned away to adjust his painfully hard dick. And she called HIM evil!
“Care to hear my theory, Angel?” Buffy practically purred. When he refused to rise to the bait, she went on. “No one else at AI or Wolfram and Hart has even seen this. You translated it yourself and when you realized that it wasn’t all about you and me and some misguided idea you have about us being destined to be together after you possibly Shanshu, you changed it. Are we on the same page so far?”
Angel still remained stubbornly silent, but the tight set of his features told Buffy that she was right.
“Which leads us to Spike. I told you that night in Sunnydale that Spike was in my heart. You knew he would come for me as soon as he was able to, so you did your damnedest to come between us. Congratulations. With your own tunnel vision and a little unexpected help from my so-called friends, you were almost successful.”
She walked over to lean against Spike, her arms winding tightly around his waist. “I don’t suppose it crossed your mind to wonder just how Spike and I ended up together in the ceiling. Or why he wasn’t really fooled into believing that Kimmie the Clone was me?”
Angel scowled at Spike. “But you said…”
“Damn right I did. Had already sniffed out my girl here where she was stashed away in the vents listening to every word we said. Sneaky bint. Gotta say I’m a bit surprised you didn’t smell her too, Peaches. As soon as the air kicked on, that whole room was flooded with Eau de Slayer. Thought I was gonna drown in my own saliva before I got out of there.”
Spike slid his hands into the back pockets of Buffy’s jeans and rocked against her. “Was like old times, following her through the ceiling,” he said with an unrepentant grin.
“Personally, I liked the finale.” Buffy giggled, hiding her face in his shirt.
The roar of outrage startled everyone but the two lovers as Angel leapt up from his chair and started towards them. Before he could touch her, Buffy had a stake in her hand and pressed to his chest, freezing him in his tracks.
“Before you make a colossal mistake, you might want to take a look over your right shoulder, Angel.” Her voice was calm and her green eyes deadly as she pressed the stake hard enough to break the skin.
He did as she asked. He was afraid not to. The sight that met his enraged eyes had his demon fading and a sigh wrenching from him.
“Hello, Whistler.” Buffy greeted the emissary with a sunny smile.
“Hey, kid. Up to your usual tricks I see.” Whistler tipped his battered fedora to the ladies present. Spike got a huge smile and a wiggle of the eyebrows from the demon. “You go, stud!”
Angel closed his eyes and hung his head in defeat. “Whistler.”
The demon pursed his lips and tilted his head to pop his neck, the bones making a horrendous cracking noise. “I really hate to see what’s become of you, big guy. Guess I don’t have to tell you that you’ve been called to the carpet by my bosses, huh? They even sent me to escort you, seein’ as how we have a history and all.”
Replacing his hat, he made a sweeping gesture towards the wall he had appeared from. “Are you gonna come along peaceful like, or does my little friend here have to dust you up?”
Angel gave Buffy one last sad-eyed look. All it got him was another press of wood to his chest. His eyes moved to Spike, obviously debating whether he would be able to twist his head off before Buffy could ram the rest of Mr. Pointy home.
“I’ve sent you to hell once, Angel. Don’t make me prove that it gets easier every time I have to do it.”
With a savage growl, Angel turned and stormed towards the wall. Obviously forgetting that the emissary had to be with him to breech the portal, he slammed into the wall and fell back on his ass with a grunt of pain. Leaping back to his feet, he glared at everyone, daring them to laugh.
Only Whistler showed his mirth, snickering as he took the big vampire by the arm and tugged him towards the now opened portal. “Here we go. Watch that first step, buddy. It’s a doozey.”
When the portal closed behind them, the room erupted with laughter. Even The Immortal was smiling. Buffy gave up trying to shush Spike’s residual snorts of laughter and turned to take control of the meeting once more.
“Now, I for one would like to hear about everything the new and improved Watchers Council has been up to.”
The double doors slammed open and a blur of long brown hair and coltish arms and legs whirled through.
“You and me both, sister!” Dawn Summers bellowed.
Chapter 8
Dawn swept the room with blazing blue eyes. When she found who she was seeking, her long legs ate up the space between them until she stood nose to nose with Willow.
“Anyone care to tell me why I woke up this morning and suddenly remember that I have a sister?”
Giles made as if to intervene and she froze him in place with a look of hatred.
“You!” she hissed. “Why is it that the last thing that I do remember is telling you that taking away Buffy’s memory was one of the stupidest ideas the three of you had ever come up with?”
Buffy wanted to cry. The change in her ‘little’ sister over the past few months was phenomenal. Gone was the gawky teenager. In her place was this svelte, ravishing beauty that had The Immortal salivating, ready to sit up and beg like a good doggy.
The ripping snarl from the vampire at her side brought a smile to her lips and a soothing hand to his forearm. “Down, baby. He hasn’t got a prayer with her and he knows it.”
Spike scowled down at her but relaxed under her touch. Ignoring the Italian git for now, he stared at Dawn, a look of immense pride on his face.
She had yet to acknowledge their presence, concentrating instead on the ones who had stolen a part of her life from her.
“Well? I’m waiting,” she reminded them.
“Dawnie, it--” Willow began.
Dawn cut her off as ruthlessly as Buffy had earlier. “So help me, Willow, if you tell me that it was for my own good I’m going to slug you right in the mouth!”
“But it was, Dawnie. We—“
A fist shot out and connected solidly with the redhead’s mouth. She went down with a grunt of pain and accusing eyes.
“Whoa!” Buffy breathed. “And she used to just be a hair puller!”
Spike laughed. “Always knew there was a bit of the Slayer in that one, too.”
“It’s her fight; don’t jump in unless it looks like they might be getting the upper hand, okay?”
“Gotcha, luv,” he told her, wrapping his arms around Buffy from behind and resting his chin on her shoulder to enjoy the rest of the show.
Predictably, Kennedy, Giles, and Xander had leapt to Willow’s defense, with near comic consequences. Kennedy went down beside her girlfriend with a dislocated knee and a bloody nose, Xander staggered back with a high-pitched gurgle, cupping his crushed testicles, and Giles received a vicious bite on his forearm and watched helplessly as she stomped his precious glasses into oblivion beneath her stylish boots.
“You selfish, manipulative monsters! How could you?” Dawn moved to stand over Willow’s still prone form. “Tara would be so disappointed in you!” she spat, her voice thick with loathing.
Willow flinched and scrambled to her feet, her white-knuckled hands gripping the table’s edge for balance.
“I did what I had to do,” she protested. “I did it to help!”
“To help? Save it, okay? Just…Save it. You did it for your own selfish reasons. It had nothing to do with what was best for Buffy. Or for me.”
For the first time since she had entered the room, Dawn turned to her sister. “I was going to tell you, Buffy. I swear I was. I was on my way to your room that night when they called me into the library and revealed their great brainwash plan.”
“Tell me what, Dawnie?” But she knew. Deep inside she knew what Dawn had been rushing to inform her on that fateful night, and why the others had been so desperate to wipe them both clean of their memories of their bleached nemesis.
“Angel called Giles that day to let him know that Spike was back. He wanted a spell that would keep Spike non-corporeal and tied to Wolfram and Hart. To keep him away from you, Buffy.”
She didn’t know why their duplicity stung so badly. Just the thought of those wasted months without him due to their interference was enough to fuel the fires of her rage to mind-boggling proportions. Buffy fixed the battered group with an unrelenting glare.
“So, you raped my sister’s mind of mine and Spike’s presence, and when you couldn’t find me to do the same, you struck a bargain to create your very own ideal Buffy. Only things didn’t go quite as planned, did they? Your little doppelganger had a will of her own and she wasn’t afraid to share her goodies with the rest of the class.”
"The way I see it, we would have been doing you a favor!" Xander snarled. "Look at you. The minute you find out he's back, you're makin' with the horizontal mambo again."
"Explain to me why anything I do is any of your business. Never once have I interfered in any of your relationships. Not once. When does it stop, Xander? Can you tell me that?" Buffy ranted.
Spike made a move towards her, but Dawn was at his side with a restraining hand on his arm. shaking her head slightly.
"If she doesn't deal with this now, it'll never be over," she insisted. "Just wait."
Xander was verbally attacking Buffy once more. "Baby, whenever I start porking an evil dead who could eat all my friends as soon as he can look at them, then it'll be over. Then you can have your day. But while it's always you putting us on the edge all the time, you putting us in danger, I'm going to fight it every slow damn second."
"God, I can't believe you're still dragging around the Angel baggage. Giles lost a lot more than you did in that debacle but at least I know that he has forgiven me for it."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that!"
"Xander, do shut up," Giles spoke up. "Buffy knows that I don't hold her responsible for any of that. Angelus killed Jenny, not Buffy. And if Jenny had been more forthcoming with her information, Angel would never have lost his soul in the first place. So don't presume to put words in my mouth. Bloody pillock!"
"So what; you're jumping on the Spike wagon-o-love now? Since he's all soul having he's the perfect eternal love for your Slayer? Fuck that, Giles. Buffy doesn’t deserve a happy ending, and you know why? Because she caused me and Willow to lose ours!"
“I caused… Are you insane?” Buffy stammered, her eyes wide and incredulous.
“It’s true. If it weren’t for you, Warren never would have shot Tara.” He completely ignored Willow’s flinch of pain at his mention of the blonde witch. Kennedy turned her glare from Buffy to Xander.
“And Anya. It wasn’t her fight, but she went down protecting that useless little worm. It was your fight, not ours. If anyone deserved to come back, it was her. Not him. Not your little vamp love toy.”
Buffy was across the room and slamming him into the wall by his throat so fast that Spike barely knew she’d moved.
“That’s rich considering the fact that your lost lover was over a thousand years old. Stop and consider this though, Xand. What makes you think Anya hasn’t come back? Maybe D’Hoffryn brought her back and she just decided not to let you know?”
A sudden flash of light blinded them all momentarily and a brisk wind whipped through the room.
“Gee, thanks a lot, Buffy,” a familiar voice snorted with disgust.
Xander paled and stopped clawing at Buffy’s imprisoning fingers. “Ahn?” he choked.
His former fiancé gave him a weak smile, her slim fingers moving to clutch at the shiny new pendant clasped around her neck. “Hello, Xander. You don’t look well at all. Quite puffy, in fact.”
“Ahn…you’re alive! You came back to me!”
She squirmed uneasily. “Actually, not so much alive and no, I haven’t come back to you.” The words escaped her in a rush. “One of Hoffy’s stipulations on bringing me back was that I remain a vengeance demon. No more human form for me. I’m sorry if it hurts you, Xander, but it really wasn’t that hard a decision for me to make.”
Xander swallowed convulsively and Buffy grudgingly released her hold on him, moving immediately back to Spike’s side.
“This is getting bloody ridiculous, pet,” he chuckled.
“I really had no clue, I swear,” she insisted.
Anya overheard their exchange and waved a hand dismissively. “Also Hoffy’s doings, Buffy. His sense of humor has become positively demented in the past few years. It was another condition that when you finally realized how much your friends were running your life, he would grant you a wish for vengeance. No fee, of course,” Anya added with a perky smile.
“Is there a fee?” Dawn whispered to Spike.
“Dunno, nibblet. ‘M afraid to ask that one. Kinda like my dangly bits danglin’ right where they’re supposed to be.”
Buffy shushed him with a pointed elbow to the solar plexus. Xander had finally pushed himself away from the wall and approached Anya.
“Anya, I don’t understand. I love you.”
The demon shot Buffy an apologetic look. “This won’t take but a minute,” she promised. Turning to her former lover, she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a thoroughly pissed off look.
“You, Xander Harris, love no one but yourself, and you don’t even do that well. Through our entire relationship I was made to feel like a second class citizen. You only had time for me when it came to orgasms. The rest of the time you were too busy shoving your nose into Buffy’s love life to pay any attention to me. You consistently put her and Willow’s needs before mine, and then you embarrassed me in front of my friends and family by jilting me at the alter.” Her chin lifted to a proud angle. “I deserve better, Xander, and Hoffy makes it a point to prove that to me each and every day.”
“You and D’Hoffryn...?” Willow gasped out. “Oh my God, that’s…”
Anya’s lips thinned in irritation. “What? You think it’s wrong? Disgusting? Really, Willow, Tara would be so ashamed of you. Surely you know better than anyone that it isn’t who you love, but how you love them?” After giving the redhead a considering look, she shook her head sadly. “No, I guess you wouldn’t know that, would you? If you did, you never would have tried to come between Buffy and Spike.”
Xander fell back into his chair once more, his expression that of a man who refused to believe what was slapping him repeatedly in the face.
“You. And that…thing. How could I have been so wrong about you, Anya?”
Spike didn’t even try to muffle his contemptuous snort. “Still all about you, isn’t it? Quit with the blubbering, whelp. The demon bird just proved what a hypocritical wanker you really are.”
“Thank you, Spike.” Anya grinned. “Now, Buffy. Your wish?”
Buffy’s eyes flicked from one to the other of the three of them. A sudden burst of inspiration had her grinning like the buffybot on a power surge.
“Well, let’s see. They’re really going to miss interfering in my life once I’m gone, so I think for my wish I’ll leave them with a little piece of me to cherish.”
Looks of confusion were shared among the others in the room. Only Giles had an expression of understanding and dawning horror.
“Anya, I wish for Giles, Willow, and Xander to be stuck with Kim the Buffy Clone for the rest of their lives. If anyone needs their moral guidance, it’s her.” Her evil smile caused even Spike to shiver in reaction.
The vengeance demon nodded. “Very inventive, Buffy. This way they’ll never lack for a sexual partner ever again.” She rolled her eyes at the Clone. “You really are terribly promiscuous. I can smell four different men and two women on you right now. Shameful, really!”
Allowing her demons face to slip to the fore, an extremely veiny Anyanka clutched her pendant. “Wish granted,” she intoned with obvious satisfaction.
“You know, Buffy, I could add a little clause that ensures none of them ever reach orgasm again if you like?”
Buffy tilted her head, considering Anya’s suggestion while she relished their petrified expressions. “Hmm. I dunno. What do you think, Spike?”
He laughed, throwing his head back and bellowing his mirth at the ceiling. “Nah, might be a bit of overkill there, pet.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She ran a hand up his chest in a teasing manner. “I think it’s just enough kill.”
Spike covered her hand with his and gave it a squeeze. “True, but think about it…They’ll find so little satisfaction in the years to come. Come to think of it, maybe you should include Peaches in your little wish.”
“It can be done,” Anya assured them. “I never really liked Angel anyway. Far too serious and glowery.”
“I think Angel will be suffering enough by the time the Powers get done with him. And I don't know about that orgasm clause...”
A pouting Anya sidled up to Buffy, dropping her voice to a dramatic whisper. “Please Buffy, just let me make it so Xander never reach orgasm again. Well, four years at least. That will satisfy my wish for vengeance too, only without the painful scrotum boils!”
Buffy affected an air of boredom. “Sure, go ahead.”
“Wish amended and granted,” Anya proclaimed.
Dawn snickered. “Wow. I almost feel sorry for all of them. Especially Xander. No happies for four years? Harsh.”
“But that’s the beauty of vengeance, Dawnie. If you ever get bored with modeling I know Hoffy would be thrilled to have you on board.” She caught Buffy’s pointed glare. “Or perhaps not? Just a suggestion, really! I’m certain that modeling is a very fulfilling career that requires a lot of brains.”
“Hey!” Dawn yelped indignantly.
“And I should be on my way before I get myself into serious trouble.”
Buffy reached out and gave her a hug. “Thank you, Anya. And tell D’Hoffryn his gift was greatly appreciated.”
Bouncing happily from Buffy to Dawn to Spike, she accepted their farewell hugs. “Oh, he’ll be so pleased. A happy Hoffy is generous with orgasms. Go me!” Anya giggled.
Another burst of light and wind and she was gone.
The Immortal rose gracefully from his seat. “I must say, cara, that your choice of friends? Not so good, yes?” He shook his head in a deprecating manner. “It is my fervent wish that your future will be much brighter. It has been my great pleasure to meet you and your so charming sister. Arrivederci, bella.”
With one last lustful look at Dawn which had her rolling her eyes with disgust, The Immortal swept from the room.
The four original Scoobies stared at each other while Spike, Dawn, Kennedy, and the Clone looked on.
Buffy’s face was carefully wiped of any hint of remorse. “Don’t bother trying to contact me. I never want to see any of you, ever again.” Turning resolutely away from their anguished faces, she slid her arms around Spike and Dawn and walked out, head held high and never once looking back.
Chapter 9
Three years later
Buffy sank down on the bottom step and dug her toes into sand that still held the warmth of the sunny day. She leaned back, bracing her elbows on the step behind her and sighed as she watched the last rays of the setting sun fade on the horizon.
As if on cue, the screen door creaked open and bare feet whispered across the worn wooden porch. A sharp knee nudged her back then rubbed back and forth, rocking her playfully.
“Stuck down there again, luv?” Spike couldn’t resist teasing her.
She waited until he sat down behind her, legs as deeply tanned as her own appearing on each side of hers while strong arms snaked around her waist to draw her back against his chest. Another contented sigh escaped her as she tilted her head back and decorating his jaw with kisses.
“Yeah, I’m stuck again, but I kinda figured you’d be along eventually to help me up. You’re getting very good at that, you know.”
“Think this one will be a litter, too?” His hands were immeasurably gentle as they swept over her distended belly in soothing circles.
“Litter! Spike, one set of twins does not a litter make. God, you make me sound like Lassie,” Buffy complained good-naturedly, her own hands coming down to curve over his. “Besides, you told me you could only hear one heartbeat this time. Do I have to tell you how much pain will be involved if I find out you lied?”
Spike chuckled, burying his nose in her hair and breathing deeply of the sunshine and fresh air caught in the lush waves. “M sorry, luv. You shouldn’t make tormenting you about this so much fun. And for the record, it doesn’t take much to make you howl like Lassie, especially if you mean that bint in that Porky’s movie.” He winced as she thumped him on the knee with her fist. “Hey, now! Told you I just heard one this time. Abusive wench.”
Beating him up took too much energy these days. Buffy absently rubbed the bruised knee as she relaxed bonelessly into him. “How was your day?” she asked.
“Bloody fantastic, in spite of the fact that those two spawns of Satan we call children shaved Mrs. Brimley’s cat.”
Wincing, Buffy laid her head back over his arm to meet his eyes. “Mr. Fluffy?”
“Is now Mr. Baldy,” Spike confirmed, dropping an absent kiss on her nose. “Have to say the old bird took it well. Once we revived her, that is. Chelsea and Devon reminded her that she complained so much about how expensive hairball treatment can be the last time they were over there. How they managed to shave a cat with a pair of buzzy clippers without either of them getting so much as a scratch is beyond me.”
“Well, someone had to intervene!” an indignant voice spoke up.
It said a lot for the supernatural parents that the appearance of Whistler didn’t even cause them to blink. The bandages on his face and hands did bring sighs of resignation, however. He was practically mummified.
“Guess we know who held the bloody cat,” Spike snickered.
Whistler’s face went an alarming shade of magenta that clashed horribly with his lime green fedora. “You…They…Both…”
“Oh look, honey. He’s incoherent,” Buffy drawled.
“They’re evil!”
Spike smirked proudly. “Aren’t they?”
Whistler shot him a poisonous glare.
“Don’t give me that look, you git. Knew exactly where they were and that they were in no danger. Not my fault the Powers That Butt-In made you their guardian angel, is it? So buck up, suck up, and do your damned job.”
Slumping down on the steps beside them, Whistler shook his head in defeat. “If only they weren’t so…Sweet. And destructive. And manipulative,” he said in a dazed voice. “Those pouts of theirs should be illegal!”
“Always said that about their mum. It’s the whole girl power thing, demon. Part and parcel of that midget slayer package they came with. Get used to it. Buffy and I have.”
“And to think I used to wonder why you have bars on your windows. It ain’t to protect those girls from the world; it’s to protect the world from the girls!”
Buffy nodded sagely, nudging Spike into another belly rub. “Finally caught that, did ya?”
“Just think what they would be like if the Slayer and I hadn’t started training them when they turned two,” Spike put in with a shudder.
“Well, only one this time, thank the Gods. Two more like that would drive a saint to suicide.” Whistler cast a wary eye around him. “Where are the little darlings?” he asked nervously.
Spike lifted his head, listening carefully for their heartbeats inside the house. “Sleepin’,” he said, sharing a contented smile with his mate.
Whistler studied the couple with an air of immense satisfaction. The Powers were still in an uproar over the demands the Slayer had made upon them after learning she was pregnant. Buffy had haggled with all the gusto of an Egyptian camel merchant. Admittedly, some of her stipulations had been more than a little outlandish, but thanks to her refusal to compromise, she and Spike had benefited hugely from the situation.
Among the nifty perks she’s been able to wrangle from the higher beings were unlimited funds that ensured neither of them would ever have to work outside their home, protective wards that cloaked them from the demon world and guaranteed that none of them could be manipulated by magical means, and of course the final word on any and every decision that affected the lives of the twins and any subsequent offspring.
The most important concession, in Buffy’s opinion, was Spike’s immunity to the sun. In order to be able to protect their children, and to satisfy the Slayer’s fervent wish to be married on the beach in front of their home, the vampire was now impervious to sunlight.
Lost as he was in his sojourn down memory lane, the savage growl that ripped through the air had Whistler staring in stunned surprise at the foursome that was making their way down the moonlit beach. ‘Oh shit!’ was his first coherent thought. ‘This can’t be good.’ was the next.
“I’ll just pop upstairs and find out what’s up with those protective wards, yeah?” he muttered.
“Don’t bother,” Buffy told him. “I can already tell you that they didn’t use magical means to locate us. We’d appreciate it if you’d go stand beside the girls, though.”
“Not a problem, doll face.” With that, the emissary faded completely from sight.
Sensing Buffy’s need to appear invulnerable to the approaching group, Spike boosted her to her feet and pulled her up to stand beside him on the porch. To some, she might look fragile with her gravid belly, but he was intensely aware of the barely leashed temper she was hiding beneath that languid expression of polite inquiry.
“You nits just don’t get it when someone tells you ‘never again’, do ya?” Spike snarked.
Giles and Willow had the grace to look ashamed. Xander just looked purely miserable. It seemed that the pseudo-slayer was to be the spokesperson this go ‘round.
Kim stepped forward, her eyes sliding over Buffy’s obviously pregnant form with a shudder of distaste. She had nearly killed herself getting them this far so she refused to back down now.
“I’m guessing that the ‘someone’ who broke into my sister’s home and stole some personal letters a few weeks back is here to confess her sins?” Buffy inquired with a sardonic lift of her sleek eyebrows. Just to be contrary, she refused to pull her white tank top down over her stomach, grinning when the vampire at her back made a great show of cradling her seven months gone girth.
“You broke into the nibblet’s house? Aww, I’m tellin’!” This was going to be fun, Spike thought. He hardly ever got to bait anyone these days. He grinned unrepentantly at Xander.
“So, Whelp, how’s them jollies you ain’t gettin’ these days? Slayer just got in the new Victoria’s Secret catalogue if you’d like to give it a gander.”
Xander tried to force back a whimper. The past three years and ten months had been sheer, unadulterated hell. No matter what he did, no matter who he was with, he hadn’t achieved sexual gratification during that entire time. Every time he felt his climax approaching, Anya’s scary, demon face would pop into his mind and he would completely deflate.
Buffy didn’t even try to hide her snort of laughter when Spike started singing ‘I Can’t Get No Satisfaction’ under his breath. She turned in his arms and gave him a half-hearted slap on the arm.
“Stop that. The faster we find out why they bothered to come here, the faster they can go away again,” she admonished him. One finger danced along the waistband of the baggy drawstring shorts he wore. “Then we can get back to the quality time that was so rudely interrupted.”
Spike gave her a smoldering look. “Right, then. State your business and then bugger off. The brats are sleepin’ and I got me a Slayer that wants some cherishin’,” he said rudely.
“We want this stupid curse lifted,” Kim hissed. “If I have to spend one more day with these people, I am just going to snap. How you tolerated their whiney, interfering ways for so many years is totally beyond me,” she yelled at Buffy.
“Often wondered that myself,” Spike snorted. He received a second, harder slap for his trouble.
Kim ignored them and continued her rant. “I want my own face back. I want my own life back and I want to get as far away from these losers as possible.”
“Please, God, lift the curse, Buffy. I think I can safely say for all of us that we’ve learned the error of our ways,” Giles muttered. “She can’t stake a vampire to save her life, she’s nearly brought the Council to financial ruin with her exorbitant spending, and her sexual escapades have caused untold turmoil within the ranks of Watchers.”
“The Immortal has finally filed a restraining order against her, and two of Dracula’s wives have filed for divorce because of her,” Willow chimed in.
“Made it all the way to Transylvania, did you?” Spike snickered. “Only you lot would pick a nymphomaniac to try to take the Slayer’s place.”
Buffy stared at Willow, suddenly noticing two things. She was missing her usual Kennedy-shaped appendage and the size of her stomach rivaled Buffy’s.
“Whoa! Guess I’m not the only one with the incredible expanding waistline, huh Wills?” she commented. “Who’s the proud papa?”
“Well, we know who it isn’t, since the whelp can’t bust a nut,” Spike offered. He cast a look of wide-eyed innocence at Xander. “No ‘hard’ feelings, right?”
Her mouth opened and closed several times, but Willow couldn’t even manage a squeak in reply. Finally she cast her eyes at Giles in a telling gesture.
“You’re kidding, right?” Buffy asked flatly. When both Giles and Willow’s faces flamed with embarrassment, the Slayer burst into uncontrollable laughter. “Oh my God, you’re serious.”
Spike looked confused. He had been so busy tormenting Harris by singing ‘Friggin’ in the Riggin’ that he had missed the couple’s reaction to Buffy’s questions. “Wot?”
Buffy was snorting inelegantly and leaning weakly against him. “Giles and Willow have a little watcher in the oven.”
“Oh, bloody hell. Tell me this isn’t another fuckin’ prophecy,” Spike begged.
Furiously polishing his glasses, Giles glared at the vampire. “No, you pillock. It isn’t a prophecy. I-I have a very deep regard for Willow, I’ll have you know.”
“So, what happened to batting for the other team, Red?”
Willow gave him an irritated scowl and moved closer to Giles. “He satisfies my needs completely. Don’t underestimate his abilities.”
"Oh, we're the very last to underestimate anyone's abilities. You two cornered the market on that one,” Buffy said in her best snippy voice.
“S’cuse me, but I think my O-Neg is comin’ back up,” Spike gagged.
Buffy commiserated with her husband, wrapping her arms around him and kissed him. “Oh, my poor baby! What can I do to make you feel better?”
Spike looked around him. Xander and Kim were squabbling and Giles and Willow were making disgusting moon-eyes at each other. All it needed was for Peaches to make an appearance to make it a perfect nightmare.
“Just get the demon bird here and take back that soddin’ wish so they’ll leave,” he pleaded. “They’re killin’ the mood, luv.”
Can’t have that! Buffy thought. She turned around and gave a shrill whistle between her teeth. “Yo! Listen up.”
When she was certain she had their full attention, she muttered the incantation Anya had given her should she ever want to summon her.
Her customary flash of light and burst of sulfurous wind brought the vengeance demon forth.
“This had better be good, Buffy. I was just about to eviscerate a fraternity in Boston,” Anya groused.
“Tell them to thank me later,” Buffy sighed. “Lift the curse, Anya. They won’t leave unless you do, and they’re making Spike want to toss his cookies.”
Giving Xander a considering look, Anya pouted. “But you still have two months on the orgasm clause.”
“Just lift it. I want them gone. There’s nothing else I can do that will make them as miserable as what they do to themselves without a vengeance curse,” she said tiredly.
“We really should have Angel here for this also.”
“Peaches wasn’t there for the original curse. He doesn’t need to be here.” Spike frowned ferociously, his nausea forgotten in the face of his mate’s exhaustion. “Quit stalling and just bloody do it, Anyanka, before I bite someone.”
“Oh, fine. I’ll have to take a beating from Hoffy on this one, but you did do me a favor with that clause for Xander. I’ll even make sure they really will go once I’m done, okay?”
“Perfect,” Buffy smiled. “Thank you so much.”
“I really should start charging cash for this,” Anya muttered. With a resigned sigh, she began the incantation to remove Buffy’s curse. When she finished, she smiled and patted Xander on the head. “It’s too bad Hoffy is so possessive. It would be interesting to see your head explode when you have your first orgasm in almost four years.”
Buffy shook her head at Spike’s hopeful expression. “It’s just an expression, honey.” She glared at Anya. “It IS just an expression, right? I’m SO not cleaning up Xander brains from my front yard.”
“Wouldn’t be that big of a mess, luv. We’re talking Xander brains, remember?”
“Har de har har, bleach boy,” Xander spat out.
“I wouldn’t be trading barbs with me, Whelp. ‘Cause you got bigger problems right now.” Spike pointed at Kim, who was eyeing the brunette lustily. “Maneater off the starboard bow!” He bellowed with laughter.
Xander shrieked at her predatory look and took off down the beach at a dead run, the pseudo-Slayer hot on his heels.
“Two down, two to go,” Spike grinned.
“Well, three including me. Oh, and the very smelly guard dog you have hovering over the twins. But I really need to get back to the fraternity boys and Whistler will go as soon as Giles and Willow can pry themselves apart and leave, right?”
A faint scream was heard in the distance as Xander was brought down like a wounded gazelle.
“We’d best go rescue him, dearest,” Giles said, nudging Willow along. The lovebirds cooed at each other as they headed in the direction of Xander’s pained cries.
Buffy snorted. “Geez, rude much? They didn’t even say thank you.”
“Shall I… “ Anya began perkily.
“NO!”
“Touchy, touchy,” she pouted. “Well, I’m off. Remember, Buffy, Hoffy Jr’s birthday party is next week. Since you have twins, I’m sure he expects many expensive gifts.”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Anya.”
As usual, sarcasm was wasted on the clueless demon. She gave them a little wave and disappeared.
Buffy smiled at Spike. “One more?”
“You do realize how ironic it was to decorate their bedroom with a Powerpuff Girls theme, don’t you?” Whistler called down from the upstairs window. “Consider me gone. You wouldn’t believe what these two have cooking for tomorrow.”
Spike slid an arm around her waist and urged her through the door. “We don’t wanna know, mate. It ruins the surprise.”
“Should we feel guilty?” Buffy asked as he led her through the darkened house to their bedroom.
“Nope,” Spike returned matter-of-factly. “The Powers made him their guardian; we had nothin’ to do with it. I do wonder what he did to piss them off so bad that they decided to punish him like that, though.” He watched with adoring eyes as she stripped and snuggled down into the bed. “Tired, luv?”
Buffy rolled over, admiring his lack of tan lines when he dropped his baggy shorts. She gave him a sultry look from under the veil of her hair. “Not too tired for you, baby.” The effect was ruined completely when she yawned so wide he heard her jaw crack.
“Right,” he chuckled. “Backrub?”
“You’re so good to me.” Buffy felt him slip in behind her and moaned as his magic fingers went to work on her lower back. In spite of her insistence that she wasn’t too tired for loving, she was asleep in seconds.
Sighing, Spike pulled her close and buried his face in her hair, breathing in her familiar scent as he willed his body to relax, allowing the steady, reassuring heartbeats of all three of his girls and the sprog in Buffy’s tummy to sooth him into dreamland.
Beneath his father’s hand, the boy-child nestled under Buffy’s heart stretched and rolled, eager for the day he would make his presence known.
FIN
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