DISCLAIMER: No I don’t own them, but if I did the world would be a better place.
SUMMARY: This is a story of lost identities and the struggle to discover who it is you really are.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Startling clues to what Wesley is really up to are revealed, but can the gang deal with the repercussions?
SPOILERS: Anything and everything.
DISTIBUTION: This story’s for all. Anybody can feel free to put it on their site if they let me know about it first. And please do, because I would love to have some work posted!
FEEDBACK: YES!
RATING: R

~*~*~*~*

It doesn’t matter where we come from, what we’ve done or suffered, or even if we make a difference. We live as though the world were as it should be, to show it what it can be.
-‘Deep Down’.

~*~*~*~*

Spike strode casually into the old Post Office he was currently using as digs, taking his time as he riffled in his pocket and withdrew a slender cigarette from inside.

One bloody good thing about this invasion, he mused vaguely, as he sucked in the comfortingly familiar taste. Don’t have to worry about Californian smoking bylaws.

But his mind wasn’t keen to dawdle on the past. Well, not that past. He kept tracking back to that night he saw Dawn.

In all his years, Spike could fairly say seeing the little Niblet strutting the streets in signature slutwear was one of the most shocking. And he had seen a whole lot.

He didn’t know to be disturbed or amused at the sharp turn her life had taken, purely because of what the vampires had done.

What bleedin’ Buffy has done, more like.

Years ago Spike would have been enjoying himself immensely at this point. Life was going grand, for the common vampire anyway. The humans were mere cattle, the old ones had taken back the control, and their influence had spread so far he wasn’t even sure there were any clean cities around anymore. There was all the blood he could eat, no paltry police and criminal laws to abide.

Life was all blood and peaches.

And it was just too fucking easy.

Everything was too easy these days. Even in the old days, with Angelus and Darla so intent on their campaign for destruction of the human species, he had never particularly had a share in their enthusiasm. He had a love for the violence, sure. That was what being a vampire was, wasn’t it? But he wasn’t about to go waving goodbye to the world just so the bad guys could have their one-up on humanity.

He preferred to be subtler about his own methods of torment.

Like say, playing with the Scooby Gang. When he was chipped that had always given him his kicks, when violence was tapered to meagre demons, and it had definitely passed the time. Only, in the end, he actually found himself joining their ranks, and what’s more, wanting to.

Sure, he wasn’t about to go knocking up Buffy’s door, begging for a part on the team any time soon, but it was the one time in his life had had actually belonged to something, except with Angelus, Darla and Dru. And it was different to that, because he’d never had to constantly measure up to Angel’s standards.

He’d just had to satisfy Buffy’s.

But that was different too. Buffy may have been a constant sanctimonious thorn in his side, but she’d known what he was capable of, and what’s more, she’d considered him useful. Indispensable.

Needed.

The life of a vampire had always been pretty straightforward. Kill this, eat that. But there were certain aspects he had always valued about it. Like the love of the fight.

He’d be lucky to get in a decent brawl at all these days. Everything was so bleak and depressive, and he found he didn’t like the humans like that. It took all the excitement out of it.

He was bored. Honest and downright truth, he was damn bloody bored.

Sighing wearily, he rounded the corner, ducking past the old postmaster’s desk to the rooms out the back that he occupied. When he heard the voices. Tense and anxious, he could tell by the tones.

Which was an unusual thing in itself, considering the amount vampires had to be anxious about.

Narrowing his eyes, he softened his footsteps, not slightly out of practice, and slid over the wall that led to the vampires without a single sound.

“… someone’s killing them. They leave the bodies in the street. You know how Wolfram and Hart is. They like everything clean, and you know you have to get rid of dinner if you want to stay on their good side. This guy, whoever he is, isn’t afraid of them. He’s leaving a trail all around town, and they’re going to find him”.

“Good”, another, deeper voice grunted in response. “Probably some idiot from that wiccan commune. We don’t need those people coming in here, messing with our territory.”

“I don’t know why they don’t just wipe them out for good”, the other mused. “That’s perfectly good food just going to waste. I heard from someone who fed off a witch once, said it was almost as good as a slayer’s…”

Spike didn’t wait to hear any more.

Before the vamp could finish, he lunged forward, griping the scrawny little creature by the neck and slamming him roughly against the wall.

“So”, he started in a snarl. He didn’t like it when his lackeys kept things from him. “A little birdie whispered to me that you might know something interesting. Is that right, mate?” he hissed into the vampire’s face.

His eyes widened in terror at the force of Spike’s grip, and Spike nearly rolled his eyes. They needed to have a screening process about who they turned these days.

The other vampire stood by, looking faintly amused, and it was clear he had just been humouring the younger one. Spike would deal with him later.

“Come on then?” he prodded, none too gently. He couldn’t explain it, but something in the vampire’s words had struck a nerve in him, and suddenly it seemed terribly urgent to discover what he knew. “I may be living forever, but I don’t fancy wasting my time here with you for five minutes. Do you even know what sodding soap is?”

The young vampire quivered. “What do you want to know?” he rasped.

Spike released his chokehold.

“Right then”, he said happily. “Who’s this bloke been trussing out bodies all over the city then? Wicca you said?”

The guy looked uneasy. “Well, I couldn’t be sure. I mean it’s just what I heard…”

Spike leaned closer. “Do you want me to hit you?”

If Willy the Snitch had a long lost twin brother out there, Spike figured he’d just found him.

Willy-vamp gulped. “All right! I heard talks he’s tied in to Wolfram and Hart”, he explained frantically. “That’s why they’re letting this go on, undetected. The underground don’t like it, even the humans are starting to get funny. They think he’s up to something big. Something called The Summoning”.

Spike cocked an eyebrow. Interesting. So someone decided to liven things up a bit, eh?

“This Summoning? What, this fucker decides to let loose a few Wicca magick tricks, huh? Good for him. Place needs some serious excitement”.

The vampire shook his head. “You don’t understand. The Summoning has never been performed by any mere mortal, and not for thousands and thousands of years.”

Spike glanced at him. “You weren’t a librarian in your life or anything were you?”

He sighed, shaking his head. “All right. Something big and ugly going down. Wolfram and Hart are right behind him? Well, can’t say it surprises me.” His raised his brow as a thought occurred.

“Say”, he drawled. “How do you know all this, anyway?”

Willy-vamp’s eyes bulged. “I just… things I hear…” he stuttered.

Spike took a step closer, eyebrows furrowing together into a deep frown. “You wouldn’t be in on this little establishment, would you? Because I must admit, that does but me in a bleedin’ difficult position, doesn’t it? What with you going back to report to the boss who you ran your mouth off to, and them needin’ to make corrections…”

He didn’t bother to finish, and produced a stake from his jacket. Always good to have one handy.

Willy-vamp opened his mouth in protest, but it was already embedded in his chest. He disappeared in a cloud of ashes.

Spike turned to the other, whose smile had instantly disappeared.

The blonde vampire shrugged impassively. “What can I say? Sorry, mate. Demon’s gotta do…” he plunged it forward. “…What a demon’s gotta do”.

As he scraped the dust negligently from his pants, a spark of worry couldn’t help but imbed itself in his mind.

The world was in serious trouble.

Maybe it was time to go knock up certain people’s doors.

~*~*~*~*

“Buffy?”

Faith’s voice cut into her consciousness, so desperate, so scared. Not Faith.

Buffy let that thought register before she slowly raised her chin, gaze wavering over both of them, her fellow warrior; her sister slayer. And him. Her soul. He so often spoke of her as his salvation, when truly, he had been hers.

“… You’d think with all of the people I’ve seen dead, it wouldn’t affect me much now”, the slayer muttered, to no one in particular.

Angel and Faith exchanged a glance.

“Buffy”.

Angel strode forward with faltering, hesitant steps.

She blinked. Feeling… nothing. Searching inside and nothing. No emotion at all. A blank gaping hole that stretched on for eternity.

“Buffy!” his voice was harsh and firm this time, and Faith quietly berated him from behind. He ignored her, intently crouching in front of the blonde slayer’s disturbingly still form, and resting his palm gently to her cheek.

D.J.’s lifeless remains decorated the porch steps outside, but he got the impression that wasn’t what had terrified Buffy so much.

He wanted to know what had.

“Buffy, what happened? Are you hurt? Talk to me, love, please”.

His voice rang fiercer the longer her silence, his heart thundering painfully in his chest.

She flinched at the warmth of his flesh, coarse and oh-so familiar as it moulded to her face. His eyes. God, they were so beautiful. Brown and soft and kind. Safe. Safety in this miserable existence, in this world, this life. How could she want to deny him? How could she tell him she could never love him, ever again?

“He… he did it”, was all she could manage to say. “I knew he did. I didn’t say anything, but I knew he did.”

Faith’s brow creased, and she stepped haltingly forward, feeling so utterly helpless and weak. And wanting to understand.

“Who did what?” she asked softly.

Why was it she felt like the outsider in the room when these two were together?

Buffy’s face contorted like a child’s. “I can’t… Don’t go up there, Faith. Promise me you won’t go up there.” A shiver ran through her body.

Angel glanced over at Faith, features uncertain. Something seemed to be dawning over Faith’s expression, comprehension. She knew.

Angel was beginning to think he did too.

Without sparing either slayer a further glance, he drew to his feet and started slowly for the stairwell. Faith heard them creak beneath his weight and watched as his shadow was swallowed by the darkness above. Buffy didn’t protest his going; Faith wasn’t at all sure she had even realised it, she was in such a daze.

The body, she thought, faintly. We should get rid of the body, out the front. And the barrier. We’re vulnerable, they could come back…

Even as she thought it, she knew they weren’t coming back. HE wasn’t coming back. Because he had done whatever he was supposed to have done.

The sofa shuffled, and she started. Buffy. She’d almost forgotten she was there.

“Buffy, honey?” she forced her tone to be soothing. Compassionate. So totally out of character for her. Yet something in Buffy brought it out. “B, do you need anything? Some… some coffee maybe?”

Does she look like she needs coffee? an inner voice shrieked. Faith pushed on. “I think I could… find some. I mean Gunn got a little on his latest supply jaunt. Cordy’s hooked on the stuff, I personally can’t stand it…” She was rambling.

Buffy shook her head mutely. The focus was filtering back into her eyes. Gradually.

“I’m fine”, she said softly.

Faith’s eyebrows knotted together and she sank onto the sofa beside her friend.

You don’t look so fine, Summers.

Without a word, she ran a hand consolingly over Buffy’s blonde tresses. Buffy remained silent, but when Faith drew her to her shoulder, she complied, leaning her head against the offered support, and closing her eyes tight.

They were in that position when Angel returned. His face was pale, more so than usual.

Faith’s eyes took him in as he slowed his pace in the room, expecting the worst.

She wasn’t to be disappointed.

“Ryan…” he barely managed. “He’s…”

Faith nodded, stifling the urge to sling off a string of lewd, cursing swear words. Angel didn’t need to say anymore. His expression said more than if he had flashed it up on a bright neon sign in the middle of Times Square.

Jesus, Ryan…

Whatever Angel had seen up there, it had changed him somehow, as it had reduced Buffy to the state she was in now. Faith inwardly shivered.

Then her eyes narrowed, growing hard. The recent epic of events had only increased her own qualms, and now it just seemed all too likely.

“Can we narrow it down to our one and only suspect?” she spat.

He looked away, guilt written all over his face. Never have enough of that, she thought dully.

“Yeah”.

A hundred ‘I-told-you-so’s’ died in her throat at the utter anguish in his eyes.

“So he took down the barrier?” she said instead.

“Looks like. Whatever Wesley…” The words were said with downright bitterness, and Faith knew that any leftover warmth he felt for the watcher had extinguished along with D.J and Ryan’s lives. “Well, this is the big-time now”.

“If he’d wanted to kill us, he wouldn’t have given us such the major gloat job”, Faith mused. She absently stroked Buffy’s forehead with her thumb. “D.J. was put on display out there like some relic at a history museum for Christ’s sake. To him it was probably a work of art. He’s playing with us, for real now.”

“He wants us to know who has the power here”, Angel said with aversion, eyes flickering over Buffy in concern. “And it definitely isn’t us.”

He took a sustaining breath, and shook his head. “He isn’t finished.”

Sounds of footsteps erupted from the back entrance, interrupting them further, and all three glanced around just as Gunn and Cordelia strode into the room. Both stopped, taking in the huddled slayers, and the grim expressions everyone was wearing.

“What happened?” Cordelia asked abruptly, alarmed.

Angel closed his eyes; relieved his two friends hadn’t used the front entrance.

Thank God for small miracles…

He uneasily repeated what he had just informed Faith. When he was finished, Gunn’s eyes blazed with disbelief and anger, and unlike Faith, he wasn’t unhappy about speaking up about it.

“So, it’s good to see where that judgement of yours will lead us”, he said coldly, emotions roiling off him.

“Gunn-“ Cordelia tried, reaching for him.

He shook her off. “No. Do we LOOK like we could use this crap, on top of everythin’ else?” he demanded. “How are we supposed to trust you, man, if this is what ends up happening? You’re the one who waved the white flag; let Wes out on the streets. And now people are dead”.

“That’s a bit of a negative spin on the paraphrasing”, Faith muttered, drawing her knees to rest under her chin as her eyes flashed between the two men.

“You think I don’t know that this is my fault?” Angel snapped, clenching his jaw. He waved a hand. “I made a decision, and it was the wrong one, okay? I realise that.”

“Right, so you just gonna add it onto the ‘guilty little things I done’ pile?” Gunn retorted acridly. “I guess it’s gettin’ pretty high now, right? Heading towards skyscraper.”

“Well, as fun as this is and all, it doesn’t bring Wesley here does it?” Cordelia said pointedly, standing to the side of the couch, tensed to break up a full-scale argument if things got that way. The vein pulsating in Gunn’s forehead was a testament to that.

The African-American rolled his eyes impatiently, crossing his arms over his chest, which she took as a good sign of submission. “So? We find him. Track him down all detective-like. We were supposed to be some, once upon a time, remember?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that”, Angel argued irritably.

Gunn whirled on him. “Well, simplify it then! Find us a way out of YOUR damn mess, Angel!”

“And I’m sure these recriminations are helping,” Buffy spoke up tightly.

It was the first she had spoken coherently since their arrival, and all turned to look at the short blonde in surprise, as she glared daggers up at them. Angel never ceased to be amazed just how intimidating the woman could be.

Ryan’s death had obviously shaken her, but she was anything but frail now, and self-assurance was clear as she straightened herself in her seat.

Gunn wasn’t as willing to back down. The sight of the blonde staring obstinately up at him did nothing to faze him at all.

“Right. That’s great”, he snarked. “Take his side just because you two have a thing going on. One word from the great slayer and that just MAKES our problems go away.”

“Hey”, Angel warned.

Buffy rose to her feet, eyes narrowed dangerously. “You can paint this any way you want to, Gunn, I really don’t care”, she said icily. “But we’re on the same side here, in case you needed the memo. And to find Wesley, we’re going to have to work together. So maybe you want to get over this entire vengeance fixation you have, and help us along”.

Gunn seethed down at her. “You think you can just come in here and give orders?” he demanded hotly. “Take the high ground? You haven’t been here. You have no IDEA what he’s done. I don’t need bossin’ around by some little blonde chick with a giant bug up her ass.”

“I honestly couldn’t give a crap what you need”, Buffy retorted. “But I care what the world does.”

Gunn scoffed. “Right, cuz you were doing so well with that before”.

“Okay!” Angel cut in harshly, as soon as he saw the hurt cloud into Buffy’s face before she could control it. He stepped up to stand just slightly in front of her, unconsciously a protective gesture. He hadn’t forgotten the suffering in Buffy’s eyes when he and Faith had found her.

“I think that’s just about enough. You have your issues with me, Gunn, then fine. Leave Buffy out of this”.

Gunn couldn’t curb the curl of his lip in utter distaste. His hatred for Wesley might spark from Fred’s murder, but time had only augmented it more, and it was pushing him on until he was blind for anything else. The anger was like a corporal thing around him.

“Whatever”, he scorned. “Do what you want. I don’t care. You guys play rehabilitation-squad. I’m going to find Wesley”.

Gunn turned on his back, storming out of the apartment with that one last remark that left anything open to the imagination, and the back door slammed behind him.

Buffy spared Angel a nervous glance. His face read carefully blank, but she could see the strain peering through, and a crease marred between his brows.

Then he turned slowly to regard Faith.

“Faith, I want you and Cordelia to go an old contact of mine”, he started wearily. “He should be able to lead you to the Furies, and they can replace the barrier. Tell them it’s important. Don’t worry, they’ll do this for me”.

“Furies?” Cordelia noted almost absently. “Wait, those floaty cleavagey trampos who were so hot over your…”

Angel loudly cleared his throat, and Cordelia’s eyes bulged and flickered over to Buffy.

“I mean yeah. Sure. We’ll get right on that. Boss.”

She cringed under his withering glare. “I mean nowish. Cuz wow, time is really… of the essence here. And bye.”

She started for the back door without a backward glance – trusting Angel’s explanation more than enough to leave the front – fearing the glower she was so sure she would see masking Angel’s face.

God, the guy really needs to lighten up a little again, she thought.

Which was such a joke in this hellhole.

“And now one of my friends is dead, and another is a potential nutcase out to get us all”, she muttered dejectedly. Ever the mood-lifter.

She could hear Faith strutting up behind her, and tiredly, she opened the door, ready for another physically and emotionally draining night ahead.

Because I never have enough of those.

Then all her thoughts were out the window as a dark shape instantly flitted out from the darkness in front of her, and the seer shrieked.

Faith rushed forward, but whatever it was already had their hand clamped tightly around her neck, and stars began to dance before Cordelia’s eyes as the air was choked from her lungs.

Next thing she knew, she was free, and she stumbled backwards against the doorjamb, clutching it like a lifeline, and coughing as she sucked the air greedily back into her system.

Angel and Buffy raced out from the living room, but Faith already had the assailant gripped tightly by the lapels of their shirtfront, and it wasn’t until his face slid until the pooling blue lights from distant patrol groups, did she actually recognise them. Even then it was hard, because she hadn’t actually seen him for a good nine years.

Faith took a swing at him. He caught the brunt full on, surprised cry escaping his lips.

“OI!” Spike yelled at her. “Do you bloody MIND?!”

“Do I mind getting slugged in the gut?!” the brunette retorted, eyes narrowed into cold hard slits. “Do I mind you STRANGLING on my friends, and intruding in their HOME?!”

“I wasn’t intruding!” the blonde vampire said defensively. “I was knocking!”

“Right, cuz that hand around my neck thing really felt like knocking”, Cordelia wheezed.

“What the hell do you want here?” Angel spat, stepping down from the doorway.

But it wasn’t he who held Spike’s attention. He was much more focused on the other figure slowly descending the short flight of stairs, green eyes focused on him levelly but unable to hide some deep inner turmoil that would never fade.

“Buffy,” he started slowly.

She didn’t let him finish. Her knee shot up so fast they barely saw it, and then Spike was keeling over against the alley wall, clutching at his stomach in obvious pain.

Fierce, indignant malice burnt in his eyes.

“I didn’t come here to REHASH, you bloody bitch!”

“And I didn’t come here to get my face bashed in by some reformed serial killer”, she replied evenly, and his eyes darted to her mostly faded bruise before he could stop himself. “So really, we never get what we want, do we?”

“I’m guessing you didn’t come here to die, either,” Faith added, as she withdrew a stake from her denim jacket. “But I’m sure we can squeeze it into tonight’s programming”.

“Wait!” He held up his hands in defence, even as he heard it hating how bloody poncy his voice sounded. “All right, you slayer bint?” he made himself add. “I call truce, at least until you bloody let me speak before you just shove a redwood through my chest”.

“I kind of like my idea better”, Faith sneered, but she gazed at Buffy.

They were all looking at Buffy. Even Angel. Buffy realised she had unwittingly been put in charge of discerning this particular vampire’s fate, and she didn’t like the decision at all.

She glanced at Angel, who was waiting expectantly, but his expression held aloofness that she recognised all to well. He sensed her reluctance, and unfortunately, so did Spike.

The blonde vampire gave a cocky grin as he straightened himself upright, and rested his fingers casually in the belt loops of his pants, so not the reaction of someone who expected to be killed anytime soon.

“Why are you here?” she asked frigidly.

To his credit, the sharpness of her words seemed to sober him, if only a little.

He licked his lips. “All right. Here it is, plain and simple.

“I need your help”.

~*~*~*~*

Angel wanted to laugh.

There was no way Spike could be that stupid. Come to them, for help, and expect not to find himself on the wrong end of something sharp and pointy, preferably by his own hand.

But even as he thought it, the look on Buffy’s face told him Spike wasn’t completely misled after all. She was considering it. Worse of all, she was probably going to hear him out.

As far as Angel was concerned, Spike didn’t even deserve that luxury.

“Help with WHAT?” Cordelia scorned, sounding thankfully, like her old self. He realised his hand was gripped tightly on her shoulder for support, and he quickly let go, all the same keeping the woman in his line of sight. She was still slumped slightly on the door, but the coughing had stopped, and her face was returning to its natural colour.

Spike glowered at her.

“Well, since I’m sure the barrier set up about this joint didn’t come down by ITSELF, I’d say you don’t need a picture diagram to work it all out”, he replied scathingly. A smirk pulled at the corners of his lips. “Not even you”.

Cordelia bristled, but Buffy held up a hand. Angel noticed that although her stance was aggressive, she was keeping her distance from the vampire, and letting Faith handle the threatening part. He promised himself he would store that thought away for contemplation later.

“Then why the hell did you attack Cordelia?” she demanded.

Spike sighed, waving a flippant hand. “Oh, that was just insurance” he responded dismissively. “I’m not a complete idiot coming here, I knew you wouldn’t accept me with open bleedin’… arms.”

Buffy’s face was murderous.

Spike rolled his eyes. “Fine? You want an explanation? The grandmother of all catastrophes is on the forefront, and you expect me to stand back and do nothing?”

“Not really your style”, Angel snapped.

Spike wrinkled his nose at him. “Oh please, you dumb bastard. Tell him how many apocalypses I’ve helped you lot save, Blondie. Got to be three, at least.”

Buffy shifted petulantly. “Um, hello? World’s already vampire central. Didn’t take that into consideration with this ‘saving the world’ theory of yours. You just joined them”.

Spike scoffed. “What else could I do? Vampire with a soul’s like a soddin’ tragedy case, and I didn’t fancy following in Poncer Boy’s footsteps. I don’t need enemies.”

“So this was just survival?” Faith prompted mockingly. “Right, cuz you sure weren’t having a whole bunch of hi-jinks back there pounding into us”.

“Can we kill him now?” Cordelia whined impatiently.

“Hey. I came here to help, didn’t you hear me?”

Cordelia simpered. “All I heard was that you’re the evil vampire that took out half our team the other night.”

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. “Why should we believe you?” she snapped.

He looked at her, really looked at her, and for a moment she swore she saw sincerity in his eyes.

God, she really hated him.

“Even if you can’t”, he said pointedly. “You’re still going to need all the help you can get. Aren’t you?”

“Makes a point there”, Faith muttered.

“Do you know what’s going on?” Buffy prodded.

Spike shrugged. “I’ve got a fair idea”, he claimed casually. “You don’t have connections like mine and end up with nothing to show for it”.

“Yeah”, Angel grumbled. “That’s what worries me”.

Buffy made herself ignore him, for the moment. No doubt she was going to be hearing all about this later anyway. Like they didn’t already have enough to argue about.

“It’s big, isn’t it?” Faith asked seriously.

The vampire snorted. “Think I’d really be here otherwise?”

He eyed Buffy again. “Saw Dawn the other night”, he said carefully.

Buffy stared at him. “What!?”

He nodded, satisfied with her response. “Didn’t seem extensively concerned over ‘family values’. But I didn’t kill her. That should mean something”.

“I wouldn’t say that”, Angel said.

Buffy bit her lip, not meeting Angel’s eyes.

“I think… we should let him help”, she admitted at last. “At least listen to what he knows”.

Angel’s eyes bulged. She wasn’t serious?!

Before he could think anything rational, he gripped her tightly by the elbow and dragged her a few metres away, before speaking to her in a low, accusatory voice.

“Are you out of your mind? A few nights ago he could have KILLED you, and now you’re ready to forgive and forget?!”

Buffy irritably shook off his arm, eyes flashing. “Not forget. And certainly not forgive. Believe me, I’ll know more of what a monster he is than you ever could”.

He found that hard to believe.

“But he’s our only chance to stop this!” she went on in a fierce whisper. “Whatever Wesley is up to, it’s going down soon, and this is our one and ONLY lead. It’s him, or nothing. But don’t you EVER think that I will forget what he is. Or how he got there. Another thing that’s my fault. You’re not the only one that has a list these days, Angel. So at least let me fix this my way”.

Angel grit his teeth, and stalked back to the others without a word.

Spike was watching her intently, and Buffy realised he had probably heard the entire discussion. She shivered.

Faith cleared her throat. “Um, I hate to say it, but I think I’m with B on this”.

Spike grinned. “Thanks ever so, pet”.

She responded by punching him over the jaw.

Buffy nodded, and glanced at Cordelia. “Cordy?”

The seer narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know what Angel’s going to say, but I have a feeling it’s something similar to what I’m thinking. But it’s your choice”

Spike didn’t even need to hear the answer.

~*~*~*~*

Angel wasn’t as convinced of Spike’s agenda.

He insisted they keep Spike under close scrutiny, which Buffy wasn’t exactly inclined to argue with. Short of tying him up, they decided at last that Faith, Angel or Buffy needed to be with him at all times, although Buffy didn’t think Angel liked the idea of leaving her alone with him.

Spike wasn’t what she was concerned about. If he was so eager to form a coalition with them, it became clear fast that whatever they were dealing with wasn’t something to take lightly.

This was big. In the middle of a vampiric invasion, that had to be – in her book – a very bad thing.

In the meantime, they needed to decide what their next course of action would be.

Spike sat on a kitchen chair in his customary slouch, looking all the world as if he was back in his element, and enjoying it. The others had been sitting around tensely, trying to ignore the fact that Angel and Faith were outside disposing of D.J’s remains, when they returned.

With Willow and Xander in toe.

They hadn’t had difficulty getting in touch with the pair through Angel’s various contacts, for it seemed obvious that there was really only one option to stop what was happening.

They needed the Scooby Gang. The old Scooby Gang. The team that had helped Buffy save the world more times than she could count, that had saved her own life more than once.

Her family.

Cordelia’s eyes lit up at the sight of them, and Buffy felt a pang of irritation at her reaction to their arrival.

Danielle was at Willow’s hip, and the little girl looked meekly up at the group, keeping her cheek pressed firmly to Willow’s skirt. Xander stood beside them, looking more strained that she remembered from their brief previous visit, and waved a hand slightly in greeting.

“Hey gang”, he said awkwardly.

Willow gave them a small smile. “Hey”, she repeated.

Cordelia rushed wordlessly forward and enfolded the redhead in a tight hug, while everyone else stood by uncomfortably. Buffy hung back. She hated feeling like this any time, but in front of people who were supposed to be her friends…

Until Xander spoke up.

“What is he doing here?”

Xander Harris’s expression was frozen and blank, but Buffy had enough practice reading him to know what he was feeling. If it wasn’t obvious enough already.

Spike just rolled his eyes at him, and she wondered if he was actually enjoying the sudden upheaval of tension. “Oh relax, would you?” he said calmly. “Have your little quibble later, lackbrain”.

Xander’s gaze turned on Buffy, and the slayer shifted uneasily, from where she stood, resting lightly against the back of the sofa.

“Don’t start now, Xander’, she sighed, and her eyes were pleading as they bore into his. “Please”.

“He’s here to help us”, Angel explained, leant against the far wall with his arms crossed over his chest. The shadows silhouetted his face, and she wished she could see his expression. “Apparently”, he added in a short mutter.

Xander snorted. “Right”, he said flatly, looking at Buffy again. Angel’s tone was fairly clear. He raised his arms limply. “So? Gonna fill us in? It’s slightly alarming getting called up ahead of sunrise with no explanation past ‘the slayer needs helpin’, so mount up’, or something in those words”.

Buffy licked her lips, tilting her head. “All right”, she started at length. “Wesley’s trying to kill us”.

Xander’s face broke out in a smirk, and he actually started to laugh. “You are kidding me, right? That was worth the wake up call”.

“You don’t understand”, Faith spoke up tetchily. “You don’t know what he’s like anymore.”

Xander shrugged. “Pansy watcher guy? Yea tall, real knack for stating the obvious?”

Faith glared at him. “This isn’t a joke, Xander”.

He sneered at her. “Right. Cuz you were always shooting for the serious in the old days”.

The brunette slayer looked like she wanted to pound on him, but Angel cut in. “Two people are dead”.

Buffy looked downward at the reminder, churning feeling in her gut.

Willow’s face paled, and her grip on Danielle’s arm tightened. “Wesley killed someone?”

“It isn’t the first time”, Cordelia murmured.

Xander sighed heavily. “Like I don’t know enough murderers”.

Buffy’s heart jolted, but he was staring straight at Spike. The blonde vampire looked vaguely annoyed. “What have you been up to Harris, in the way that makes you all holier than thou with the attitude?” he demanded. “Once you got the mighty slayer off your back, just seems to me the useless in you becomes more obvious”.

Xander lunged at him without warning, but Buffy rushed forward, quickly intercepting his path.

“Don’t”, she said brusquely, green gaze not wavering from his face for a second.

Xander towered in front of her, and for a second it looked as if he was going to take a shot at her too. Then he gave a small, ironic smirk. “Still defending him”, he said sardonically. “Even after you know what he’s responsible for”.

“Maybe we finally have something in common”, the slayer said flatly.

“Lot more an’ that in common”, Spike muttered behind her.

“You want us to help?” Willow spoke up pointedly, making the argument firmly closed to Xander before he could start it.

Buffy nodded limply. “You told me you could sense energy in the air? Well, we’re fairly sure Wesley is responsible for it”.

Willow frowned. Cordelia offered her a chair, and she settled into it, and Danielle wandered meekly to Xander, who gathered her in his arms, and stared at Buffy over her head.

Something within her quivered, before she turned away and returned to her seat.

It was a strange picture, Xander to the side of the room with the small toddler half-asleep in his arms, Willow and Cordelia on the sofa, and Buffy and Angel on opposite sides of the room. Buffy spared him a furtive glance, and realised he was watching her.

She held his gaze for a long time, and the strain there twisted at her heart and made her throat close up, before she quickly averted her eyes to glimpse Willow’s thin, worried face on the sofa across from her.

“There’s no way Wesley could conjure up that much energy by himself”, the redhead protested, crossing one leg over the other.

Faith frowned. “What do you mean?”

Willow glanced at her. “Well, there’s no way someone can ascend to that level in such a short amount of time. It takes years of practice and discipline, and even then… These are malignant forces unlike anything I’ve ever felt. There’s no way Wesley would cause that”.

“You’d be surprised”, Cordelia grunted beside her.

“Let’s just assume for a second, hypothetically, that it was possible”, Buffy put in.

Willow looped a stray strand of hair behind on ear. “Okay. If it was Wesley, then I guess you’d need to know exactly what he’s up to”.

Spike raised a hand. “Got that one”.

Everyone looked at him.

“And you didn’t speak up about this earlier?” Faith said distrustfully.

He shrugged. “Well, you never asked for the specifics”.

Xander rolled his eyes. “Typical”.

Spike scowled at him. “Sarcasm noted and quickly forgotten. It’s called The Summoning, apparently”, he explained. “Must admit, I didn’t think it was this watcher bloke of yours. Never had the stones for this kind of thing, if you ask me personally.”

“Well, no one did ask you”, Cordelia told him.

Spike titled his brow impassively. “Then I suppose you wouldn’t care to know that if he is responsible, he’s in thick with our wacky pals at Wolfram and Hart”.

Angel’s head reared up. “What!?”

Spike nodded with a grin tugging at his lips. “That’s right, Charlie. Thought you might find that interesting, considering how much they have it in for you and all”.

Buffy frowned. “Wait, pause. That law firm Wolfram and Hart?”

“Get with the bleeding program, Goldilocks”, Spike said, somewhat sourly. “It’s always Wolfram and Hart. And you think the most evil of us are demons?”

Willow’s eyes looked glazed over. “Willow?” Buffy prodded her.

She ran a shaky hand through her wavy red hair. “The Summoning?” she murmured to herself distractedly. “There’s no way… Wesley would never be that stupid”.

Her small body was trembling noticeably, and she seemed to just take in the frightened looks she was causing.

“Will?” Xander asked worriedly.

“Care to share, or are you taking up cryptic lessons from Nancy Boy here?” Spike added.

Willow shook her head. “The… the Summoning…”

“You know what it is?” Angel asked in surprise.

Willow scrunched her pixie brow disbelievingly. “Of course I… The Summoning… This is dawn of time stuff”, she stumbled. “It’s… it’s MYTHICAL to a witch. There has only been one previous time it was ever performed in existence, and even then… If Wesley is going to do this, there is no way on earth he could do so successfully with a human soul.”

A feeling of fear swelled in Buffy’s insides. “Will… what is The Summoning?”

Willow met her entreating gaze full on. “It’s… a ritual that needs a foundation of nothing but pure, untainted evil. It calls on the pits of hell. And… and opens them to earth.”

Buffy’s mouth fell open.

Oh God.

“The only other time it was ever done… the earth took thousands of years to recover. Either Giles… never felt it necessary to complete the entire story… or he didn’t know. But that’s how demons first ruled the world.

“When The Summoning was performed.”

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