Part One

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
For so long my life's been sown up tight inside your hold... And it leaves
me there without a place to call my own...
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"Have you seen his arms?  Those are nice arms to have..." Buffy slurred drunkenly, and Willow looked over at the blonde Slayer, a small frown marring her lovely face.

"I think you've said that before.  Unless you're talking about someone besides Riley this time," the little redhead said, and Buffy bit her lip, shaking her head decisively.

"No... No, not anybody else.  I'm talking about Riley.  Not Parker... Parker had wimpy arms.  He was icky..."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, you clubbed him over the head when you were Cave-Buffy, so..."

"Can we do that again?" the blonde asked as she downed the last of her bottle of Tequiza, looking over at her friend.  Using her enhanced Slayer strength as her reasoning, Buffy had said that it would take far more to get her drunk than it would Willow, so she had drank about four times as much as the redhead... And she was also far drunker than Willow, who still had her head about her for the most part.  Luckily.

"No... 'Cause, you know, despite being drunk, I just don't think that's an excuse to hit people over the head with things..."

"We could tell Giles I was Cave-Buffy again," the tipsy blonde begged, and Willow shook her head.

"He would never believe it... And we're definitely going to have to clean up his apartment before he comes back," the redhead stated, looking at the scattered bottles and cans on the floor and various surfaces that they had apparently decided could serve as trash cans and recycling bins.

"I'm the Slayer," Buffy said randomly, and Willow frowned at her as her friend stood up and wove her way over to the refrigerator.

"What?  Does that mean you have super cleaning powers, too?  Or is that just your excuse to get out of cleaning?" the redhead questioned, and the blonde
shrugged.

"I don't know... Did I ever mention that Riley has nice arms?"

"And the loop begins again," Willow whispered, shaking her head.  When they'd decided to have their 'let's get drunk and bitch' evening in, it had been so they could avoid the talk of guys, given the way the two had felt about the male gender recently.  Buffy hadn't been herself since Angel had left the spring before, and then there was the Parker debacle, followed up with Oz cheating on Willow with Veruca, Veruca deciding that she wanted to kill Willow, and Oz killing the bitch, then leaving town.  And the final humiliation had been when Willow's 'thy will be done' spell had had poor Buffy swapping spit with a chipped but still jerky Spike.

Yeah, they had a *great* track record when it came to men... And the Slayer couldn't seem to stay off the subject.  Or, at least, she couldn't stay off the subject of Riley Finn and his stupid arms.  Now Willow thought Riley was a nice guy, but he and Buffy were in the stages of barely being more than friends, and they'd already found out that he had one whopper of a secret: he was one of the army guys they had been tracking since September.  And while Willow thought two big secrets - Riley being in the army and Buffy being the Slayer - were not a fine foundation for a relationship, Buffy seemed to have decided he was the guy.

Frowning, Willow came out of her thoughts just in time to see the blonde headed for the door.  "Where are you going?"

"We're out of beer... and that Tequiza stuff, and the... Well, we're out of everything, and I want more."

"No... You've had enough."

"But I want *more*!" Buffy whined, and Willow could see that while her friend wasn't going back in time about a million years from this bout with alcohol, she had gone back about fifteen years, to the time when whining got you everything.  She also looked way to determined for the redhead's way of thinking.  When Buffy got that look in her eye, Buffy got what Buffy wanted.   That look was more powerful than Willow's resolve face.

Sighing, the redhead stood up, reaching for her jacket and purse.  "Fine. You can have more.  But I'll be the one to go and get it," she said as she walked towards the door, vaguely noticing that Buffy hadn't bothered to get either her purse or jacket, she had just been about to head out the door 'to get more.'  "You just go sit on the couch and watch television, and I'll be back soon, okay?"

Buffy eyed her for a moment, probably trying to tell whether her friend was being honest with her or not, and then she nodded, weaving her way back over
to Giles's couch and flopping down on it.  "Fine.  But hurry back."

"I will," Willow replied with a wave as she headed out the door.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Spike growled softly as he walked down the alley, feeling annoyed, disgruntled, and all out of sorts.  He hated this, this bloody chip in his head that kept him from having a good old time with a slaughter.  Sure, he could kill demons, and that was all well and good, but sooner or later, he'd piss someone off, and despite being tough and the big bad, he knew he couldn't ward off a dozen demons if they decided to gang up on him... Which meant he couldn't run off and go it alone.  Damn it, he couldn't even feed... He had to rely on the Slayer and her blasted friends, which ate at him something awful.  He hated them all so much, from the Slayer teasing him to the boy actually tying him up... the damn Watcher chaining him in a freaking bath tub.  Damn it, he hadn't even been able to eat the damn witch.

Spike looked up as lightning flashed over his head, and his enhanced eyesight allowed him to see that the darkness of the sky was due to heavy clouds full of rain in addition to the fact that it was night.  If he didn't get inside somewhere soon, he was going to be caught in a downpour.

"Bloody hell," he muttered before looking up at the sky, yelling as if talking to some Higher Being.  "Is this all you have to do is to torture me?   Isn't there someone else who's done worse things than me-"

A flash of lightning coming directly at him cut off his words, and Spike cursed colorfully as he was thrown to the ground, rolling several feet. "Bloody frickin' hell," he muttered as he rose up to his knees, shaking his head, feeling the electricity zinging through him.  If he wasn't dead already, that sure as hell would have killed him.

Carefully, Spike rose up on somewhat shaky legs, feeling the anger rise in him, kicking at the nearest object as he swore wildly, feeling his foot connect with something soft and furry.  He heard the cat squawl painfully as it hit the wall, and he grabbed for his head, waiting for the pain... But it never came.  After a moment, Spike lowered his hands and walked over to the cat, seeing that it was hurt but still alive.  He quickly and brutally changed that, smiling when he didn't feel a thing, looking back to the scorch mark that was in the place where the lightning had hit, then back down to the feline he had just killed.

"Well, I'll be damned."
 

Part Two

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
I know now what shadows can see...There’s no point in running ‘less you run with me... It’s half the distance through the open door... Before you cut me
down... Again... Let me introduce you to the end...
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Buffy sighed as she sat on Giles’s couch, humming drunkenly and rather tunelessly as she settled more deeply into her seat, wishing that Willow would hurry. Not just because she wanted the booze, but because she missed her friend’s company. They’d been having such a nice discussion before...

Frowning, the little blonde reached for the remote control, leaning over so far that she nearly fell from her seat, swearing softly, then smiling as she wrapped her hand around the remote. “Gotcha!” she said with some satisfaction. “You know you can’t get away from me... I’m the Slayer you know...”

Content with her conquest of the remote control, she settled back in her seat again, turning the television on, wrinkling her nose up as she saw what was on. “No more Jessica Simpson, thank you very much,” she said, flipping the channel. “Or was that Britney Spears?”

Sighing softly, the blonde Slayer continued to flip the channels until she finally found something she could tolerate, smiling a little at the violence of it. “D’Von get the tables!” she yelled out cheerfully, her smile widening when X-Pac went through the table thanks to a powerbomb from BuhBuh Ray. She vaguely wondered if maybe she could do that to her stupid psychology professor, Maggie Walsh. Nah... Giles would kill her. She was only supposed to use her powers for good, and all that crap...

Buffy groaned as she heard the knock on the door, turning to glare at it as if were at fault before hefting herself to her feet and weaving over to the door. “What did you do, Wills, forget your key?” she asked as she swung open the door, then glared when she saw who was standing there. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Is that any way to greet a friend, pet?” Spike questioned, a cat-ate-the-canary grin on his lips. Of course, it hadn’t been a canary he had snacked on just a few minutes before. It had been a teenage girl, a way to test out whether or not his theory was right and the chip had really gone capoot... She’d tasted damn good, all that fear and pain... Call her an appetizer. He was damn near rearing to go for the main course... And what a main course it would be. He’d had two Slayers in the past, and damn, but were those chits addictive.

“No, it isn’t,” Buffy told him, eyeing him up and down. She didn’t necessarily like the look in his eye, but figured he couldn’t do any harm, what with him being neutered and all that. “But then again, you’ve never been a friend. You’re more like an enemy.”

Spike lifted his scarred eyebrow as Buffy turned away from him and headed back towards the couch, flopping down on it. “What? You’re not going to invite me in?” he asked, sticking out his lower lip petulantly.

“Oh, are you still here?” Buffy asked archly, some of her drunken haze slipping away as her annoyance grew, and she turned to him, eyeing him. “Are you leaving or not?”

“I’m thinking not,” he replied, leaning against the door jamb, and she gazed at him, looking him up and down, trying once more place what was different about him, what thing it was that seemed just a bit... off.

Spike lost his smile as she glared at him, wondering vaguely if maybe she could sense that he’d just fed on a human or something... Could she tell what was going on with him? Was he acting too cocky, too... something?

“Then what are you waiting for?” she asked him. “An invitation? You already have one, unfortunately.”

“I do, don’t I?” Spike returned, stepping into the room, smiling as he watched his foot cross over the threshold. As Buffy turned back to the television, effectively turning her back on him, he smiled wickedly, a small part of his mind laughing at her, the words ‘bad move, Slayer’ dancing through his head as he shut the door behind him. He made his way over to the couch, hopping over the back of it and landing beside the little blonde, who turned to glare at him only briefly. “So, Slayer, what are we watching?”

“*I’m* watching SmackDown,” Buffy told him primly, her head beginning to feel woozy from all that alcohol... She wanted more of it to make her feel
good again...

“And who are we cheering for here?”

“Chris Jericho... He has a nice butt,” she told him randomly, not noticing the smirk that crossed Spike’s face at that little remark. He shook his head slightly, settling back in on the couch, gazing at the screen but keeping an eye on Buffy at the same time, waiting for her to lose herself in the match that Jericho guy was having against some stupid-looking bloke whose name apparently was Regal or something of the like.

As the glassy look in the Slayer’s eyes increased, the alcohol taking it’s toll on her, Spike lifted his arm to the back of the couch, carelessly laying it there for a moment, Buffy not even noticing.

‘Sloppy, Slayer...’ His mind chastised, and he had to fight not to shake his head in dismay. Had he really come to this? Had he come to the point where the Slayer wasn’t even on edge around him? God, they must think he was housebroken or something...

Buffy jumped as she felt Spike’s arm drop around her shoulders, and she shrugged it off, frowning as she turned to him. “Spike, what in the hell-”

She didn’t get to finish her outraged chastisement, however, as she suddenly found herself being slammed into the couch, her back pressed deeply into the
cushions, Spike on top of her, and her first thoughts were of rape, but then she saw his vampire visage, just an instant before the pillow came down on her face, his other hand wrapping around her throat, squeezing, cutting off her air as quickly and efficiently as he could.

Spike held the throw pillow directly over her nose and mouth, glaring down at her struggling form, hating this woman he was holding down, not just for being the Slayer, but for making him a joke. Her alcohol-dulled senses and reflexes made her far easier prey than she should have been, and it wasn’t long before he leaned down, still holding the pillow to her face as he bit viciously into her throat, ripping the tender skin with his teeth...

Heaven... Demons were destined to go to hell, but the taste of a Slayer was like tasting a little bit of heaven. He drank deeply but still slowly, wanting to make it last, but it was over soon, too soon for his taste, and he sighed as he lifted himself up. He pulled the pillow from her face and wiped at his mouth, licking at the blood that got on his hand, looking down at the pale face of his third Slayer. This one really had been too easy. It was sad, really. The best Slayer he’d ever faced had been the easiest to kill.

“It’s a shame, pet, really it is,” he muttered as he gazed down at her, licking the last of the blood from his lips, tasting the mixture of her and alcohol, vaguely wondering if the buzz he was feeling was from her Slayer’s blood or from the six pack or two that she’d seemed to have downed before he’d arrived. He was so entrenched in the feeling of power that rushed through him from her blood that he didn’t even hear the door opening behind him, only heard the softly spoken words from behind him.

“Oh, my God.”
 

Part Three

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
And I feel the cold wind blowing beneath my wings... It always leads me back to suffering... But I will soar until the wind whips me down... Leaves me beaten on unholy ground again...
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Willow froze in the doorway, too shocked to run, to flee... To do anything, really. Her eyes were glued to the horrific tableau of Spike straddling Buffy’s prone body, and everything within her screamed that this was just a nightmare, a terrible, horrible nightmare, but deep down, she knew it was real. Her mind begged to know why, to know how this had happened... Spike had a chip inside his head, he wasn’t supposed to be able to harm humans... But he had.

Buffy was dead.

Spike heard the soft gasp of the little witch, and he stiffened slightly, knowing that his ruse was up, the element of surprise gone... At least it was with her. He turned slowly, letting him demon face slip away into his human one, a glint in his eye as he faced her, casually getting up from on top of the dead Slayer’s body. Her arm fell limply from the couch, hanging down, the remote control clattering to the floor as it slipped through the fingers of her lifeless hand.

Willow swallowed hard, the lump in her throat feeling like it was going to choke her, the tears welling up in her eyes. Oh, Buffy... She’d known this day would come, had known it ever since the blonde had drowned, dying for the first time, but she’d never thought it would be so soon... And not in this way. She caught sight of a blurred figure moving in her tear-drenched vision, and belatedly the slender redhead blinked the tears out of her eyes, feeling them fall on her face as she turned to run.

“Not so fast, pet,” Spike’s cold, heartless voice said in her ear, and she had no time to wonder how in the hell he had moved so fast as he grabbed hold of her, and she found herself flung halfway across the room, slamming into the couch. She felt herself falling over the back of it, nausea hitting her as she tumbled on top of the still-warm body that had once housed her best friend, and she scrambled off of the couch, crab-walking away from it, banging her shoulder on the coffee table, but too far gone to even notice the jolt of pain it caused. As he approached, towering over her, Willow looked up at Spike with wide eyes, yelping when he reached down and grabbed her by the hair, yanking her to her feet before slamming her up against the wall.

“You did have to come here, didn’t you?” he growled, his eyes glowing briefly as he nearly resumed his demonic visage, but he held it down, wanting her to fear him as he was, enjoying the scent of her tears. He spotted the bag she had dropped by the door, the bottles that were falling out of it, and he grinned. “Oh, I see. This was a getting drunk party for you and the Slayer. Tsk, tsk, Willow. You should know better than to get drunk on the Hellmouth. It slows the reflexes... Makes you... easy prey...”

Willow whimpered and closed her eyes as Spike’s face neared hers, feeling his cold mouth nearing her throat, his tongue coming out to lick a path up her throat, causing her to shiver in revulsion. “Don’t...”

“Don’t what? Taste you? Don’t enjoy the sweet stench of your fear? But it’s so addictive,” he told her, the smile obvious in his voice, making it clear that he was enjoying himself... He was enjoying toying with her, playing with her mind.

Willow’s eyes snapped open, and she glared at the demon in front of her. Yes, demon. Some small part of her had begun to see him as a man during his
time with the chip implanted into his thick skull, but she knew now that was a huge mistake. He wasn’t a man, and she wondered if he ever had been. He was a demon, a creature of evil that happened to stand upright and walk on two legs... He was a monster. “If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with, asshole,” she told him, fire flashing in those wide green eyes of hers, and Spike lifted an eyebrow, a smirk touching his lips.

“Oh, are you sure you want that? You want to die? Is that what you want, Red? Do you want to die like your good friend Bitchy the Vampire Slayer over there?” he asked, jerking his head towards the couch the fallen Slayer lay on, not noticing the dangerous flash in Willow’s eyes, the way her body stiffened with anger at the statement... “Is that what you want? Or do you want to come back... Be like me? Picture it, Red... You and me, destroying them. Picking off your friends one by one. I’d thought about saving you for last, using you to destroy Angel and his sunshine gang up in LA, but now... Here you are, and you’ve given me such a good idea...”

Willow’s eyes had widened in horror at his words, the thought that he might turn her... Was he just saying that to make her fear death even more, to make her die with thoughts of coming back and bringing horrible death to her friends... She’d seen herself as a demon, and she knew without a doubt that if he changed her, then she would come back as cold and vicious... And she would kill everyone who had been her friend.

She couldn’t allow that to happen.

“Do you like the sound of that, Red?” he asked softly as he reached out to the side, grabbing hold of the fireplace poker, taking his eyes off of her
for just an instant, but still holding her down. “Of course, no matter which way I go, I would so like to torture you first... Make you pay for that spell you did, the one that made me kiss Buffy... Who knows where that bitch’s lips have been... You’re going to pay for that, whether I turn you, or just kill you...”

Willow screamed in agony as Spike struck, lightning-quick, his hand plunging the fire poker into her shoulder, and he smiled at his handiwork. “Oh, that
was fun. You scream so loudly... I liked that...” With those words, he jerked the poker out of her shoulder, causing another horrific flash of pain, drawing another scream from her, and he watched her, cruelly holding her gaze as he brought the bloodied poker up to his lips, licking it clean, not noticing the way she seemed to be fumbling at the bottom of her jacket sleeve, to entrenched in the delightful taste of the witch’s blood...

She couldn’t lift her arm. The pain was like a searing heat, and she knew she couldn’t lift her arm. She was having enough trouble staying conscious as it was. Concentrating as best she could, she shook her arm a little more, new tears rising up to her eyes at the pain of the movement, feeling the stake slide downwards, gripping it tightly before it could fall to the floor...

“And now, Red,” Spike said calmly, grinning at her, and she could see her blood on his lips... “Bloody hell!”

Willow watched in silence as one of Giles’s swords flew out of the cabinet he kept his weapons in and rammed straight into Spike’s back, knowing she had to be careful not to use so much force that it went completely through him and into her... At the same instant, she plunged the stake into his leg, not having even range of motion in her arm to aim for his chest, and knowing that the time it would take to switch hands could mean her death. As Spike stumbled away from her, hurt but recovering himself quickly, she hurried over to the door, clutching her good hand to her bleeding shoulder, pausing to glance at Buffy one last time...

And then she fled.
 

Part Four

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
So tired no of paying my dues... I start out strong but then I always lose... It's half the distance before you leave me behind... It's such a waste of time...
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"Hate to tell you this, man, but you are trippin'.  The Slayer is a myth. She doesn't exist.  Therefore, that little blonde you're hot for is either delusional, or lying."

Riley Finn sighed as he looked up at Forrest Gates, glaring at his friend. "Buffy Summers is not a liar."

"Okay, then she's just delusional," Forrest replied with a smirk before tossing the mini basketball at the little goal that hung over the door, nodding in satisfaction when it went through the net.  "Exactly what I look for in a girl, I gotta tell you."

"Damn it, Forrest... Look at it this way: No matter what you say, the fact remains that I have seen her fight, and she is tough.  She's stronger than I am, damn it.  I've seen her fighting hostiles, and... Just wow."

Forrest rolled his eyes, shaking his head, opening his mouth to say something as the door suddenly slammed open, and he whirled around to yell at the person who had dared to intrude.  "Private conversation here-"

"Willow!" Riley cried out as he saw the slender young woman with bright red hair stumble into the room.  Her hand was clutched to her shoulder, and when
Riley stepped forward as if to catch her, she jerked away as if in pain, then collapsed to her knees.  "Christ, Willow, are you okay?"

"You know this chick?" Forrest asked as he glared down at her, and Riley only nodded vaguely as he knelt down beside the girl, reaching out to touch her once more, and this time she allowed it.

"Willow, what's wrong?"

"Cl-close the door," she managed, her breathing labored, coming out in harsh gasps that could have been a sign of exhaustion or pain, he wasn't sure
which.

"Riley, this is-"

"You heard her, Forrest.  Close the door.  And that's an order," Riley commanded, glaring up at the other man, who glared back defiantly for a moment before sighing heavily and going over to the door.  He took hold of it for a few seconds, looking at it as if he were trying to decide whether to stay or go, then sighed and slammed the door shut, staying inside the room.

"Okay, Willow, the door's shut.  Why don't you tell me what's wrong?" he asked as he tried to pull her to her feet, urging her to go over and take a seat on the bed, and it was as she was settling herself that he saw the blood that was staining the shoulder of her dark jacket, the red of it coloring her hand.  "Oh, my God.  Willow, you're hurt.  We have to get you to a hospital."

"It'll keep," she hissed out, slapping at his hand when he tried to get to the injury, wanting to get a better look at it.

"Willow, this isn't... What happened to you?"

The redhead glanced over at Forrest, taking in his hateful look, matching it with a glare of her own before turning back to Riley, deciding that she didn't care what the other man thought.  "Vampire," she told him bluntly, and Riley swore.

"Damn it.  We've to get out there, bag him and tag him-"

"And what?  Put a chip in his damn head so he can't hurt anybody?" Willow snapped out, her eyes flashing.

"What did you say?  Riley, did you-"

"Shut up!" the redhead yelled as she turned her head to face Forrest.  "He didn't tell me crap.  You idiots just aren't very stealthy.  I've known about vampires since the tenth grade.  Deal with it."

"But then, how did you-?"

"Know about what you two do?  We've had a few run-ins with your army boys, and I think you're nothing but trouble.  Putting a chip in a vampire's head is stupid and useless.  Want to know why?  Because computer chips can screw up, and people can die."

"Willow, what are you talking about?" Riley asked, something about the way she was speaking sending fear running through him.  "Who..."

"Vampire named Spike.  You caught him and chipped him, he escaped.  Bleached blonde..."

"Hostile Seventeen," Riley murmured, and the redhead glared at him, meeting his eyes.

"Spike," she corrected him.  "His name is Spike.  He's a Master Vampire. And congratulations boys... He was harmless, but now he's not.  He did this to me," she said, indicating her shoulder, her eyes hard.  "And before that... He killed Buffy."

Riley felt like he'd been kicked in the gut.  Backing away from Willow, he shook his head.  "No, you can't... There's no way-"

"He killed her!" she shouted at him.  "He'd killed two Slayers before, and now he added a third... Buffy."

"Slayers don't exist," Forrest told her, and Willow jumped up, getting in his face as best she could despite how woozy she felt from loss of blood.

"And neither do vampires, right?  Buffy was the Slayer.  Trust me, asshole. I've seen her fight, I've fought at her side."

"Oh, and let me guess.  You're a Slayer, too," he said, and Willow shook her head, her eyes narrowing.  She could feel tears in her eyes, but she refused
to give into them.  She could mourn Buffy once Spike was dead... And Spike was going to die.

"I'm not a Slayer.  I'm just a witch.  A very pissed off witch.  A witch who is seriously thinking about turning you into a rat... And I don't know how to reverse that spell."  That said, she turned back to Riley.  "I came here because it was closer than Xander's, and because I didn't think Spike would come looking for me here.  I need to use your phone, though."

Still in shock over learning of Buffy's death, Riley simply nodded dumbly, turning to get the phone, grabbing it and handing it over to the woman, watching as she tried to dial with one hand, wincing as he saw the blood staining her clothes.

"You need to let me look at that.  Please," he told her, and she frowned, then went ahead and let him remove her jacket, pulling the shoulder of her shirt out of the way.  Forrest simply stood there for a moment, watching, the ooze of blood still coming from her shoulder making him wince, and then he sighed, going to grab some medical supplies from their gear, moving in to help his friend dress the girl's wounds... He hissed at the sight of it, noting that something sharp - not a knife, but something else - had been plunged into her shoulder, making a neat but bloody hole.

"Christ, what happened to you?" he muttered, and Willow looked over at him, listening to the ringing on the other end of the line, then grudgingly answering him.

"Fireplace poker.  It hurt.  I stabbed him in the leg with a stake and skewered him with a sword... Then I ran... Damn it, there's no answer," she said, putting the phone down.  "Xander didn't answer... He should've answered.  Someone should have answered."

"Forrest and I will go get Graham, and we'll go check things out at Xander's after we take you to the hospital," Riley told her, but Willow shook her head sharply.

"Not going to happen.  I am not going to any damn hospital, and I'm going with you to Xander's house."

"Willow-"

"No buts, Riley.  That son of a bitch killed Buffy, he went after me, and he's got it in for us all... Xander, Giles... After he's through with us, he'll go to LA for the others."

"Don't worry, Willow.  We'll catch him," Riley promised her, and the redhead met his gaze, lifting a brow at him.

"We're not going to catch him, Riley.  We're going to kill him."
 

Part Five

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
'Cause my shackles... You won't be... And my rapture... You won't believe... And deep inside you will bleed for me...
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Riley followed Willow, staying close to her, but not crowding her, as they made their way to the Harris home.  The slender redhead was holding herself
painfully straight as she walked, her posture so perfect she could probably balance a library's worth of books stacked on her head, and that combined
with the catchiness of her breathing made him believe that she was holding onto her control by a mere thread.

Buffy was gone.

It was hard to believe, that Buffy had died, that she was gone.  Hard for Riley, and it had to be even more difficult for Willow.  She had known Buffy far longer than he had, and he knew they were best friends.  Death was so final, and the blonde had been so young...

Riley shook his head and looked over at Forrest and Graham who were walking just a few feet behind him, neither one of them really looking like they
wanted to be there, though with Graham it was difficult to tell.  The man was known for his stoicism, and at the moment, he was being his usual self. Of course, Riley thought that maybe Graham's reluctance to go to the Harris home was due more to his insistence that Willow receive medical attention than anything else.

When he had seen the injury to the redhead's shoulder, he had instantly suggested they get to the hospital, but Willow had once more refused, and Riley had come to see that the witch's resolve face was very powerful indeed.  She'd managed to keep three trained military men from dragging her to the hospital with just a look.  Graham had bullied her into letting him fashion a sling for her arm, though, and that sling was currently holding the injured shoulder immobile.

"Are we anywhere near this place?" Forrest complained, a whine in his voice, and Willow spun around to glare at him.

"I didn't ask you to come, so you can leave.  Riley's the only one of you that I care whether or not he comes or not.  Riley is the only one of you that I need."

"Well, whether you need me or not, I'm coming, too," Graham told her evenly, his eyes meeting hers steadily, and Willow went to shrug, only to stop and
hiss in pain when she shifted her injured shoulder.

Riley was at her side in an instant, helping her straighten back up to an upright position, looking into her pained face.  "Willow, are you okay?"

"Fine," she managed, her voice harsh as she carefully removed his hands from her, straightening herself up once more.  "We just have to get to Xander's."

Riley watched as the redhead began walking again, his eyes on her as he stood there, turning to look at Graham when he stepped up beside him. "She's about to break, you know," the normally quiet man said, and Riley nodded.

"I know.  Which is why we've got to stick close to her.  She shouldn't be alone."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

The house was dark.

Willow stood in front of it, looking up at it, the darkened windows giving her a chill deep down inside.  Her bones felt heavy and cold, and she was tired, so tired.  She just wanted to close her eyes and sleep, to just disappear, just hope that it would all go away.  But she couldn't do that... Buffy wouldn't do that.

But she wasn't Buffy, and Buffy was dead.

Willow took a shaky breath as she finally drew the courage and strength to step forward, going up the walk and using her good arm to knock on the door.
After waiting for a few moments, she knelt down and took the extra key out from under the welcome mat.

"You know, it's stupid to keep a key there.  You could get robbed," Forrest said from behind her, and Willow looked at him tiredly before inserting the key into the lock.

"Well, there are worse things than getting robbed here in Sunnydale, but thankfully some of them actually need an invitation to get inside."

"And speaking of invitations," Riley said cautiously as Willow began to open the door.

"Spike already has one," the redhead replied as she swung the door open, a sense of dread running through her as she slowly stepped inside, looking
around, her eyes falling on the wall.  "Oh, God.  He's been here."

"What?" Riley asked, his voice sharp as he entered after Willow, instantly seeing what she had seen.

The blood was splashed across the wall in some bizarre pattern, a splatter mark, for lack of a better term... And Riley cringed as he realized that the blood was still dripping down the wall.

"Oh, God, Xander," Willow managed, her uninjured hand covering her mouth, and for a moment, Riley thought she was going to be sick, but then she
bolted around the corner, and all three Initiative members were spurred into action when they heard her scream.

Riley was the first one to make it into the kitchen, unknowingly following a trail of blood that led their, and he staggered back and covered his own mouth, his stomach rolling at the sight that met his eyes.

He assumed that they were Xander's parents.  Or, at least, they had once been.  Now they were simply what was left of Xander's parents.  The man lay on his back, his body cut to ribbons, his mouth open in a scream that no one would ever hear, bloody sockets where his eyes had once been... The woman
was doubled over the counter, her head twisted at such an angle that it was clear that her neck was broken, a kitchen knife embedded so deeply in her
back that all that could be seen was the handle.

"Maybe it wasn't him," Forrest said.  "This doesn't look like a vampire kill."

Willow looked over at him, then stepped forward, eyeing the two holes on Mrs. Harris's neck.  "This is a vamp kill.  It's just more brutal than the ones you've seen," she told him, her eyes still on the dead woman, but then she shook herself out of it, knowing there was more to do.  "Xander..."

"Where would he be?" Riley asked, following the redhead down the hallway.

"Basement," she said as she made her way over to the door, ignoring the pain that coursed through her as she pulled it open, then ran down the steps,
nearly tripping over something at the bottom of the steps, and her stomach turned as she looked down.  "Oh, God, Anya..."

"Is she dead?" a voice asked, and Willow looked up to see the others at the head of the stairs, slowly coming down.

"She has a stake stuck in her throat," the redhead managed, her voice small and pained as she gestured to the piece of wood potruding from the former
demon's neck, just a few inches sticking out... It must have taken an immense amount of strength to do that to her.  "Of course she's dead.  He... he must not have had any railroad spikes handy."

"What?" Riley asked as he knelt down next to the redhead, the others going to check out the rest of the basement.

"He... That's how Spike got his nickname.  He used to torture his victims with railroad spikes," Willow said softly, her voice pained.  "We're too late..."

And that was when they heard the moan.

"We've got a live one here," Graham's voice said, and Willow ran to the man's side, her eyes wide as she fell to her knees beside the person Graham had just found.

Xander was still alive.
 

Part Six

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
So here I slave inside of a broken dream... Forever holding onto splitting seems... So take your place and leave me alone to die... I don't need you to keep my faith alive...
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Riley watched as Willow paced back and forth across the waiting room floor, a nearly glazed look in her eyes.  A nurse had asked him if maybe she needed
to take something for her nerves, but Riley had declined the offer with a simple shake of his head, somehow knowing that Willow would kill him for it later if he tried to sedate her.  Something told him that he didn't really want to incur the wrath of the redhead.  Besides, she needed to be as aware as possible with Spike still out there.

Sighing, the blonde man shook his head, looking over at Forrest and Graham, both of whom were still there, though Forrest was obviously restless. Forrest Gates was not the type to sit still, he never had been, and Riley knew he had to be dying to go out there and go after Spike without a plan... But Riley wasn't so sure that was such a good idea.

He'd known, or at least, he had thought he had known, what vampires could do, what they were capable of, but nothing had prepared him for what he had
seen at the Harris house.  Now, looking back on the blood and gore he'd just seen, he began to wonder for the first time the intelligence of what the Initiative was doing.  Bagging and tagging demons obviously wasn't enough. They'd bagged and tagged Spike before, but Riley had come to feel that was merely a fluke.  They'd had to have just caught the vampire off-guard. Otherwise, he would have destroyed them all... Plus, Spike had then proceed to escape from the Initiative compound and then evade recapture, the first and only hostile to ever do that.

And now his chip was deactivated, and he was on a rampage.

Damn it, they should have just staked him when they caught him.

"We can't go back and change it, Finn," Graham said softly, and Riley gave a start, not realizing until that moment that he'd been speaking aloud.  "I'm sorry, too.  But we can't change it."

"This vampire has killed four people, and that's just what we know of.  And there is a young man in there fighting for him life because we didn't kill him when we had the chance," Riley ground out.

"Don't blame yourself," Willow's soft voice interrupted, though the volume of her voice didn't hide the steel in it.  "Blame Spike.  He's the one the did this.  He killed Buffy, he killed Mr. and Mrs. Harris, and he killed Anya.  And he will pay for that."

"Yeah, and sitting around here isn't doing a damn thing about it," Forrest spat out, getting to his feet.  "He needs to be taken down-"

"And going out there half-cocked isn't going to help," the redhead told him.  "He's survived for this long for a reason.  And it isn't because he keeps getting taken down by idiot army boys.  You lucked out once.  Don't expect it to happen again."

"That's it," Forrest shot back.  "I'm tired of your crap.  I have been fighting vampires-"

"You haven't been fighting them.  You've been sneaking up on them and stunning them.  There is a difference."

"I've got to get out of here for a minute," Forrest finally said, shaking his head as he turned to leave, shooting a glare back at the redhead.  Riley went to follow him, but stopped at the sound of Willow's voice.

"He feels out of control, and he doesn't know what to do," the redhead said.  "He hates it, the loss of control.  All this time, he thought what he was doing... He thought it made him strong, the big man.  But it doesn't.  Doing what we do puts us at such a risk, and I don't think he understood until tonight just how bad... Had you ever seen a vampire attack like that, Riley?"

"No, I hadn't.  What about you?"

Willow thought for a moment, wiping at a stray tear that slipped out with her good hand.  "One time, sophomore year of high school.  Several guys were
killed by vampires, and Cordelia and I found them... It was horrible.  I try not to think of it, but... Sometimes I just see it, the television on, some cartoon character dancing around onscreen... And a bloody handprint right in the middle of the screen."  She sighed, took a deep breath, knowing that she'd already asked five minutes before and had been told that Xander was holding his own, breathing on his own, but needing to hear it again.  "I'm going to go see about Xander, then I'll check on Forrest."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Forrest kicked violently at the wall, ignoring the pain that shot through his leg because of it, anger and a feeling of helplessness predominant within him.  Never in a million years had he expected to see something so heinous... Never had he felt so guilty.  They'd had that damn vampire in their grasp, actually within the compound, and he'd been allowed to escape. They'd nearly caught him again in the dorms, but once again, he had gotten away.

And now he had killed at least four people... Probably more.

"Damn bastard!  You're going to pay for this!  Asshole!" he yelled out, never expecting to hear an accented voice answer him, amusement lacing the
British tones.

"Tsk, tsk.  Now that really isn't very nice, now is it?  How's Red?  Did she like the gift I left her?  That was you I saw with her earlier, wasn't it? You and your little commando buddies..."

Forrest spun around at the words, his eyes widening as he watched the person - or perhaps creature was the better word - step out of the shadows, his
gaze traveling from the combat boots to the black jeans, the worn leather duster, the amused blues eyes, the scar over the eyebrow, the bleached white
hair... Hostile seventeen.

Spike.

"You're going to die," Forrest ground out, and Spike laughed.  He actually laughed, rising Forrest's ire even more.

"Hate to break it to you, chap, but I'm already dead.  You, on the other hand, well... Would you like to join me?"  At the look of fear on Forrest's face, Spike quirked a grin.  "Oh, don't worry.  I didn't mean join me in unlife.  I meant death.  Permanent death.  I'm saving my siring skills for Red.  Why don't you tell her that?  Or better yet, why don't you just die?"

He didn't even see him strike.  Forrest had been waiting for a sign, patiently watching for a twitch of a muscle, a look, anything to tell him that the vampire was about to attack, but he had seen nothing.  One instant Spike had been standing there, actually with his hands in the pockets of his duster, and the next, he was on him, his face changed to that of the demon, his teeth bared, ripping into the flesh of Forrest's throat, tearing a hole in his neck as he dropped him to the ground.

"You don't taste very good," Spike said as he stood over the dying man, watching him bleed out.  He'd gone for the jugular, and his aim had been true.  As Forrest gurgled helplessly, feeling his life slip away, Spike knelt on the ground, using the man's blood to paint the wall over his fallen body, writing the word 'SOON', the word dripping and macabre.  Once done, he got to his feet, smiling down at his handiwork, then walked away, content with the knowledge that his message would be received one way or another.

Less than five minutes later, the alley was filled with the sounds of Willow's scream as she found Forrest's body.
 

Part Seven

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
I know now what trouble can be... And why it follows me so easily... It's half the distance through the open door... Before you shut me down...
Again... Let me introduce you to the end...
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Riley looked over at Rupert Giles, the man he knew to be Buffy's Watcher... Or the man had been her Watcher up until he was fired a year or so before, and now he had no Slayer to guide at all, since Buffy was dead.  Buffy Summers was dead.

And Giles, the man who had loved her like his own daughter, looked like hell.

"I want to help in any way that I can... Just tell me how," the blonde man said to the Englishman, and Giles sighed, running his hand through his hair, his face haggard.

"For the first time in a long while, I feel at a total loss.  I failed her. Buffy should have never been put in a situation where... Oh, God, Buffy...
And Anya, and Xander's parents, your friend Forrest... And Xander... I should have never..."

"This isn't your fault, Mr. Giles."

"Giles."

"What?"

"My name.  It's just Giles.  The children... They always just called me Giles.  Xander would call me G-Man on occasion, but I think I cured him of
that habit... God, I failed them all..."

"Willow's still alive, Giles," Riley reminded the man, directing his gaze towards where the redhead sat quietly, Graham keeping an eye on her.  After
finding Forrest's body with Spike's message, it had taken ten minutes to get her to stop screaming, and now she was just quiet.  Too quiet.  "She's still alive, and she needs you."

Giles closed his eyes, sighed.  "You're right.  She does.  And I need her. We're going to have to fight Spike, you know.  It's the only way to stop
him... He won't quit until he's either done or dead, and it seems that he wants to take out anyone connected to the Slayer or the people who put the chip in his head in the first place.  He'll kill anyone who gets in his way as well.  And he'll have fun with it, the bloody bastard."

"We should have killed him the moment we got our hands on his," Riley said, his voice full of regret and something like self-loathing, and Giles shook
his head sadly.

"The same could be said about us.  We should have killed him the instant he showed up on my doorstep."

"But you didn't.  And we didn't kill him, either.  We can't go back, Giles. We have to go forward, whether we want to or not.  We have to focus on who is still here," Riley said.  "We can grieve once this is all over..."

"And grieve we shall," the older man said with a sigh.  "And you're right. We have to concentrate on getting ourselves out of this alive for now."

"Is Xander safe in that hospital?" Riley questioned, and the other man shrugged.

"I don't know.  I don't believe Spike would go into a hospital and do something to him, but we can't know for sure what he'll do.  I've set up wards that will let us know if anything of the vampire or demon variety sets foot in his hospital room, but that's really all I can do for now..."

"I don't understand this," Riley said, shaking his head as he ran his hand through his hair, and Giles frowned at him.

"What don't you understand?"

"Well, if Buffy was the Slayer, wouldn't she be Spike's main target? Wouldn't he want to hurt her the most, so he'd take out her friends, then save her for last?  She was the first one he killed... Do you think he just wanted the Slayer out of the way so he could do what he wanted without her
interference?" he asked, then followed Giles's gaze over to the redhead who was sitting on the couch.

"Maybe Buffy wasn't his main target."

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Graham cautiously sat down next to Willow on the couch, placing a bottle of water on the table in front of her, looking around the room.  "So this is your house?" he asked, feeling incredibly stupid, but wanting to get her to speak.

"My parent's house.  Spike doesn't have an invitation here, so he can't get to us," she said dully, holding her injured arm against her body, and Graham sighed, wishing there was something he could do for her, but having no clue what that could be.  "He can get in the hospital if he wants to, though... Xander..."

"I called some guys up.  They're watching over him," the young man confided in her.  "They know what Hostile Seventeen looks like, and they'll drop him and stake him on sight.  He won't get to Xander."

Willow shrugged vaguely at that, and Graham could see the tears welling up in her eyes as she turned to him, looking him directly in the eyes for the first time.  He was nearly floored by the heart-shattering grief he saw in the green depths, and he sighed softly, reaching out cautiously to touch the hand of her uninjured arm.  She stared down at it for a moment, then turned her hand over, allowing her fingers to curl around his hand, taking comfort in the strength of his grip.  "We don't know that, Graham.  He could get to Xander if he really wanted to.  Spike's so... He's smart, and he's sneaky, and he's... And he's pissed.  He's dangerous, Graham.  Very, very dangerous."

"I know he is," the young man replied, thinking about Forrest's broken, lifeless body... All of those broken, lifeless bodies that he'd seen tonight.  "But he's going to pay for what he's done."

Willow took a shaky breath, then looked over at Graham once more, and he frowned when he saw the odd look in her eyes.  "I need to tell you
something," the redhead said, and Graham nodded, trying to look trustworthy and encouraging.

"What is it, Willow?"

The redhead closed her eyes, feeling the tears slip down her face, then opened them again, taking a deep breath before speaking.  "I don't know if
Spike's going to kill me... Or, he's going to kill me.  I know he plans to kill me.  I just don't know if he plans to leave me that way."

"What do you mean, Willow?"

"I mean, tonight... When I found him with Buffy..." Willow closed her eyes then, her voice heavy with grief, and when she opened them again, her green eyes were wet with tears.  "When I found him... When he came after me, he said he'd been planning on saving me for last... And then he said... He said something... I think he might be planning on turning me into a vampire."

"What?  We... We won't let that happen.  Spike is not going to-"

"You can't guarantee me that.  You know it, and I know it," Willow said as she released her grip on his hand and reached for her purse, rummaging
around in it until she found what she was looking for, and then she took it out of her purse, handing it over to him.

"A stake?"

"A stake.  You can't tell me for sure that Spike isn't going to get me, that he isn't going to turn me into a vampire.  But I want you to do something for me... If he does, if he does change me over..."

"What do you want me to do, Willow?"

"I want you to stake me."
 

Part Eight

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Cause my shackles... You won't be... And my rapture... You won't believe... And deep inside you will bleed for me... Though you know you care...
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Spike stood in the shadows, calmly picking at the chipped polish on his black-painted fingernails.  He was still on a high from the Slayer's blood
earlier that night, the feeling of power practically zinging through him. What a rush it was, the taste of a Slayer's blood... The night had started
out horribly, with depression and the thought of rain, but now... Well, it seemed that the rain had stayed away.

And the big bad was back.

Spike grinned then, the look more of a sneer than a smile as he glanced over towards the alley where he had left Forrest's body, before going on his way. The body was already gone, anyway, taken away by the medical personnel. It had felt good to rip out the throat of the army boy, and he looked forward to doing some more damage to the group... He'd watched from a distance while Willow had found the boy, then watched as those two army boys came out to find her, brought by her screams... He did love a good scream, especially when it was filled with so much fear and pain.  Physical pain, emotional pain, it didn't mattered, all that mattered was that it was pain. Pain was good.

And Willow was in pain, and a lot of it... It would make her all the more vicious when he brought her over.  Spike smiled sinisterly at the thought,
the grin slipping over his face, a look that would chill the blood of anyone that saw it.  He growled softly as he passed by some random individual, too full at the moment to kill for blood, his thoughts still on the redhead.

Spike was stupid.  Far from it.  He'd heard whispers about something that had happened at that horrible little teen dance party called The Bronze - it was more of an all you can eat idiot buffet to his kind - about a year ago, maybe a little less than that.  It had intrigued him at the time, because he had known full well that despite the whisperings he had caught, the redheaded friend of the Slayer's was alive and well.  For now, anyway.

But he'd heard rumors of a vampire version of the girl... An evil, vicious, eccentric, black leather wearing version of her who had in the span of a
night taken over the role of leader for several member of Sunnydale's vampire population, then had proceeded to take over the Bronze.  He wasn't
too clear on the details after that, but he knew that somehow the Slayer and her little friends had foiled the vampire's plans, the real Willow playing a large part in it.

Of course, if he turned this Willow, she would be the real Willow, the only Willow... A vampire Willow.

When he'd gone to see her that night a couple months ago, when he'd been looking for the Slayer, he hadn't exactly been disappointed when he'd come upon the redhead instead.  He'd already heard the rumors by then, had been trying to find out what he could about the demonic redhead who had come to Sunnydale and left again in one night, and he'd been so curious... He'd decided almost instantly to see if the human Willow in front of him could turn into the Willow he'd heard about.  He'd told her that she had a choice, but he hadn't really meant it.  As he'd told her, she had no choice about dying, he had planned to kill her.  But when he had told her that she could either stay dead or become like him, he'd been lying through his sharp teeth... She hadn't had a choice in that.  He had been planning to turn her into a demon...

And instead, he'd discovered that he had a damn chip in his head keeping him from hurting a living thing.  Well, it was gone now, and he was back, and damn it, he was going to get what he wanted this time.

He'd already killed the Slayer, tasted the drug that was the blood of the Chosen One.  Taking out the boy's parents had been a spur of the moment idea, just a bit of fun for him... Not as fun as the girl had been though. That stupid, annoying little ex-demon.   It had felt so good to destroy her... She had been such a screamer, and Xander... Well, it had been fun to kill Anya in front of the whelp, and then to beat him within an inch of his life.  He'd fully intended for the boy to die, but Willow and those army idiots had found him in time... Damn them.

"Spikey?  Oh, Spikey, it's you!"

Bloody friggin' hell.

"What do you want, Harmony?" he ground out as he turned to face the annoying blonde vampiress.  She was almost as horrible as the damn Slayer... In fact, she was more shrill than the bitch had been.

"Well, I don't know what's going on, but demons are talking, Spike.  The Slayer is dead.  Can you believe that?  Buffy is dead!"

"I know she is," Spike said, his voice carefully devoid of any and all excitement, though it was brimming up inside of him.  Others already knew...
They already knew what he had done.  But they obviously didn't know that he was the one to do it.  Well, he was going to make sure that people knew it was him that had done it.

"Oh, you already know?  Well, why didn't you-"

"I did it, Harmony."

"What did you do?"

"I killed the Slayer.  The chip is gone, Harmony.  And so is Buffy."

The blonde vampiress looked at him for a moment, then squealed in a way that was without a doubt not evil sounding in the least as she threw her arms around his neck.  "Oh, my little Blondie Bear!  I'm so happy for you!  Now things can go back to the way they used to be, and we can wreak havoc together."

Spike fought the urge to throw the obnoxious bitch away from him and rip her damn head off.  He had no idea how he had put up with her before this... Maybe he had just been more tolerant then.  Or maybe he just hadn't heard about the viciousness that would be possible if he turned a certain redhead... Yes, that had to be it.  Of course, stupid and airheaded or not, Harmony could still be of use to him.

He knew that Willow had those two army brats following her around like puppies, and he was very aware that the Watcher was still out there
somewhere as well and that the bastard was tougher than he appeared.  It would do him well the have a distraction in order to help him get closer to the redhead... Harmony could do well in that respect, and if she got killed - which she probably would - it was no matter.  It would save him the
trouble of doing that himself.  If she managed to survive, well he'd could deal with that as well.  Or, more accurately, after he turned Willow, he'd
let her deal with Harmony.

That would be fun to watch.
 

Part Nine

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Cause my shackles... You won't be... And my rapture... You won't believe... And deep inside you will bleed for me...
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

"Are you sure we should be going in here?" Graham asked quietly as they made their way towards Giles's apartment, the yellow police tape slashed across the doorway giving the usually law-abiding commando pause, and Riley shrugged.

"It is his house... He says that's where his weapons are, and we're probably going to need them," the blonde man said as he turned his gaze to Willow and Giles who were walking several steps ahead of them.  After a moment, he turned back to his friend.  "What were you and Willow getting all serious about earlier?"

Graham frowned, thinking about the conversation, his thoughts on the stake that was weighing heavily in his pocket, seemingly burning a hole in there. "She's afraid Spike is going to turn her into a vampire," he said softly. "She... She wanted me to stake her, if he got to her."

"Oh, God," Riley whispered, his eyes going over to the slender redhead before turning back to his friend, a fierce look on his face.  Too much had
already been lost tonight.  He wasn't going to allow Willow to be lost as well.  "We cannot let him get to her.  No matter what.  Spike does not touch Willow."

"Nice sentiment.  Too bad you can't back it up."

Both Riley and Graham suddenly found themselves being shoved forward, sprawling out on the hard concrete and immediately rolling over, rolling
away from their attacker, glaring up at Spike, who grinned down at them sinisterly.

"Oh, look.  More commandos to kill.  The first one was boring."

"You bastard," Riley growled before getting to his knees and diving forward, grabbing Spike around the waist and tackling him to the ground, going on pure rage, visions of the bodies of Anya, the Harris family, and Forrest flashing through his mind.  He hadn't seen Buffy's body, but he thought of her as well.  "I'll kill you."

"Oh, but I'm already dead.  And so is your friend," the bleached blonde vampire replied before throwing Riley backwards, sending him into the wall,
and he suddenly found himself face to face with a blonde female vampire in full game face.

"Oh, look, a tasty treat," she sneered before leaning in towards his throat, only to find herself being throw away from him.

"Don't even think about it, bitch," Willow shot back, vaguely aware that both Graham and Giles were currently fighting Spike, though she knew the two of them probably wouldn't be enough to take the vampire down.  Spike hadn't killed three Slayers on luck alone.  As much as she hated to admit it, he had a hell of a lot of skill as well.  From what she'd heard about Harmony, however.... Well, Harmony didn't pose nearly so much a challenge.

"Oh, look.  It's little Willow.  How charming.  My Spikey's going to kill you just like he killed the Slayer.  No one touches me and gets away with
it," she said primly, and Willow shook her head.

"You really are as dumb as you look, aren't you?  Spike doesn't give a damn about you.  He just brought you along so that it wouldn't be four on one... And Riley, if you don't get off your ass and go help Giles and Graham, I'm going to have to hurt you," she informed him, never taking her eyes off of the vampire lying on the ground in front of her.  "Spike probably figures we'll be distracted by killing you... And he's partially right.  I am going to kill you.  But you won't be much of a distraction."

"You little bitch!  You think you can take me?" Harmony huffed.  "Well, we'll see about that!"

With that, the blonde vampire dove at Willow, who easily sidestepped her, rolling her eyes.  Xander was right.  Even as a vampire, Harmony couldn't fight for crap.  Her moves were too obvious, too easy to anticipate.  Maybe hanging around with the Slayer for four years had made her too critical, but she really found it to be amazing that Harmony had survived this long as a member of the undead.

Without giving the blonde vampire time to recover from her missed tackle attempt, Willow turned around and kicked her square in the ass, sending
Harmony headfirst into the side of the fountain outside of the apartment, then grabbed her by the hair, throwing her towards the open door of Giles's apartment.  Due to her lack of invitation, the blonde vampiress bounced off the invisible barrier keeping her from entering the apartment as if it were a brick wall, and Willow nodded to herself as she watched Harmony fall.  The redhead then winced as she reached up to touch her bad shoulder.  Damn, that had hurt so much... But she could worry about whether or not she was doing permanent damage to her shoulder later.  Right now, all that mattered was killing Harmony.

"How'd that feel, bitch?  Did it hurt?" Willow yelled as she kicked Harmony in the face, reaching into her pocket for the stake she had left there...
Graham was still in possession of her other stake.  "You sorry for all of the crap you put me through in high school?  You sorry for being such a
horrible bitch?  You sorry for biting me earlier this year?  Well, it's too late now, isn't it?"

As she spoke, she allowed Harmony to struggle back to their feet, and then she lunged forward, trapping the blonde vampire against the wall with her own body, looking into her demonic eyes as she brought the stake up between them.

"Willow-"

"It's too late for apologies, Harmony, and begging doesn't become you.  I spent four years watching Buffy fight.  Didn't you think I would have picked up a thing or two?" the redhead questioned before plunging the stake she held right into the blonde's heart, the woman turning into dust, and Willow slumped against the hard wall, her forehead pressed against it, some small part of her sorry for the girl Harmony had once been.  She'd been a bitch, but no one deserved to be turned into a demon... Not even Harmony.

"You've still got spunk, don't you?" a smooth British voice asked from behind her, and Willow stiffened, suddenly thinking she had just won the
battle only to lose the war... And lose it in the most horrible way possible.

While she was fighting with Harmony, she had blocked out everything around her, including the fight that was going on between Spike, Graham, Giles, and Riley... And apparently Spike had won.

"Stay away from me," Willow told him as she spun around, spotting Riley and Giles on the ground, both of them breathing heavily... They were still
alive.  But where was Graham?

"Or what?" Spike questioned, a sneer on his face as he stepped closer to her.  "You'll stake me?"

"I might," she said, holding up the stake she still had in her hand, brandishing the weapon, then crying out as he smacked it away, slamming her
into the wall, his visage changing to the of the demon.

"Yeah, you're a tough one.  It'll be fun to break you," he told her as he stared into her defiant eyes, leaning in towards her throat, and Willow
closed her eyes, anticipating the pain...

And instead finding herself suddenly covered in dust.

No longer held up by Spike, Willow's knees gave way, and she fell forward, instantly caught in strong arms that carefully lowered her until she was
kneeling on the ground, and she looked up to find that she was in Graham's arms.  "What...?  How?"

"I was waiting for my moment.  I knew I only had one chance," he said softly, still holding her to him, his own voice shaky as he held up the stake in his hand... The stake she had given him.  "I know you said to use this on you if he turned you but... I thought you'd rather it be used on him."

"Good thought," Willow said, nodding as Riley and Giles made their way over to where she and Graham knelt, and then she did something she had needed to do all night.

She burst into tears.
 

Part Ten

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
And my laughter... You won't hear... The faster... I disappear... And time will burn your eyes to tears...
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

The sun was shining.

There was something a little... off... about the sun shining so brightly just the day after so many people were buried, but that was what happened. That was why it was called Sunnydale.  Somehow, simply referring to it as the Hellmouth seemed far more appropriate.

Three days had passed since that horrible night when so many had been terrorized and killed... The news had called Sunnydale 'a city in mourning,
a town shocked'... but were they really?  If they were so damned shocked by all that had occurred, then why was everybody still going about their
business as if nothing had happened at all?

Because it was Sunnydale, of course.  Nothing bad could ever happen there. Or at least, that's what the residents of the town wanted to believe, and they ignored anyone who tried to tell them differently.

Riley frowned as he thought about the day before, thinking of all those people that had been buried... Buffy Anne Summers, Anya - he didn't even
know Anya's last name, Mr. and Mrs. Harris... Forrest Gates.  None of them had deserved to die, yet all of them had.

Joyce Summers had fled town, leaving Sunnydale to grieve someplace that wasn't there, and no one knew where she had gone.  He imagined she needed to be alone.  Giles... Giles had gone back to England.  He'd had to leave Sunnydale, feeling as if he had been a failure to his Slayer.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Graham asked, and Riley shrugged, turning to look at Willow and Xander who were several yards away and out of earshot.  Xander had been released from the hospital in time for the funerals, but he was still in a wheelchair, and it would take him a long
time to heal, both physically and emotionally.  Willow had finally had her arm tended to, and it was in a sling, thankfully not damaged permanently,
but she'd be doing things with only one hand for quite awhile.

"It's what they want," Riley replied.  "I figure we may as well comply with their wishes."

"And after that?  What do we do then?" Graham pressed, and Riley shrugged.

They'd talked about it, the two of them, talked about the Initiative and what they did... If Spike had been staked on sight instead of brought back
to the compound as he was, allowed the opportunity to escape, this never would have happened... Yet it had happened, and now they had to decide whether or not they wanted to stay with a group they were no longer certain that they believed in.

"I don't know, Graham.  We have to... We have some serious thinking to do, that's all I can say for now.  Beyond that... I just don't know."

"I'm still not sure it's wise to take them to Los Angeles like this," Graham said with a sigh, looking over at Willow and Xander, who were talking
quietly to each other, both of them obviously still grieving over the loss of friends and family.  "I mean, this guy Angel... What do we know about
him?"

"We know that's where they want to be," Riley said quietly, thinking of the look on Willow's face when she had told Riley what she planned to do... With her shoulder and Xander's injuries, neither one of them were capable of driving at the moment, so they'd needed someone to take them there.

"But he's a vampire!"

"I know," Riley replied with a nod.  Willow had explained it to him, figuring he needed some advance warning.  She'd told him everything, including the fact that Angel now had a soul... He wasn't sure what to think of that, but he knew Willow had known the vampire for four years and was
still alive to tell the tale.  That had to mean something.  "But it's what they want.  They have other friends there, too.  Cordelia, Wesley...
Cordelia went to high school with them, and Wesley used to be a Watcher... Willow and Xander have been through so much, Graham..."

"I know," the other man muttered, looking back at Willow once more.  She just looked so small standing there, her arm in a sling, her face so pale, a contrast to her hair which was so bright.  "She almost got dead, Riley.  It was so close... He was about to bite her."

"And you staked him.  Spike's gone.  Dead.  Dust.  His ashes tossed over a damn cliff to sink into the ocean.  I did that myself.  He's burning in
hell, the murderous bastard."

"I should have gotten there sooner."

"Yeah, well, you still saved her," Riley said as he slammed the trunk shut, then turned to Willow and Xander.  "It's time to go.  You two ready?"

"I want out of here," Willow replied quietly as Graham came over to help wheel Xander over to the car, Xander's broken arm preventing him from
steering himself over, and Willow's injury preventing her from pushing him. "I have to..."

"Okay then," Riley said with a nod as he went to help Graham get Xander into the car, and Willow turned to look at the houses surrounding them, the graveyard behind them... The graveyard where Buffy and the others were buried.

She had lived there all her life... She wasn't sure how she had managed to survive so long, not when she had seen so many others that she had thought were so much stronger than her die.  It was a lovely town really, pretty as a picture.  But, oh, the dark side it had.  The side that almost every damn person tried to ignore.  But ignoring it didn't make it go away... It was still there.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," Willow whispered softly.  "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you when you needed me most.  But I hope... I hope you're still proud
of me.  I survived.  Xander and I survived.  And Spike didn't.  Spike will never kill another person, another thing.  He's nothing but dust... And I'm
leaving.  Xander and I... Your mother's safe now, gone... And Giles went back to England.  There's nothing left for me here.  So... Please don't
think less of me for leaving Sunnydale.  Please... But we need time.  We need to heal.  Our hearts as well as our bodies.  I'm... I'm so sorry it
ended this way for you.  I wish I could have done more... For you, for Anya... For everybody.  I'll take care of Xander, though... He and I will
take care of each other.  And Angel.  Now that he knows what happened... I'll take care of him, too, I promise.  And we'll help him, Xander and I.
We'll still fight evil, we'll still take our stand.  I promise.  It just won't be here."

"Willow?" Riley's voice called, and the redhead turned at the sound, finding that he and Graham had gotten Xander into the car.  "It's time to go."

"I'm coming," the redhead said as she walked over towards the car, getting in while Graham held the door open for her, then closed it behind her, and she looked out the window as Graham and Riley got into the car, staring out at the town as Riley drove away, leaving Sunnydale behind.

Forever.

The End
 

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