Their Soul

By Kallysten

Chapter 41 - Remembering

As they walked into the store, Spike could feel Buffy’s hold on his hand tighten just a little, and he glanced at her. She looked awfully nervous, very far from her behavior the last time they had been around this particular bunch of humans together. And to tell the truth, he was nervous, too. Maybe it would have been better if they had just gone away without seeing the gang again. Not that he was afraid they would try to stop them – if they had wanted to do that, they would have just come to the mansion, not asked for Buffy and Spike to meet them before going away.

But if they had just left, he would never have had his last try. He didn’t know whether it would work, he strongly suspected it wouldn’t, but he owed it to himself, and to her, to take this last chance.

As they came farther into the store, Spike forced himself to meet the eyes of the people at the table. Travers, he ignored, still transferring to her his anger about what he now knew was her father’s fault. Giles, he gave a small nod to, receiving the same in return. The man had confirmed over the phone that the Council wouldn’t hunt them as long as they didn’t hunt slayers. His gaze and smile then glided over the Witches. He would miss them, Tara, especially, who had always been nice to him. Harris and demon-girl. He tried to tell himself he would be glad to be rid of the Whelp, but he was still as close to a human friend as he had ever had. Manon, up there above the table, her face unreadable. Steven. Hard stare, deep frown, obviously ready to attack at the smallest sign of hostility. The boy’s opinion about demons had changed over the years, but threats to his father’s and girlfriend’s lives seemed to have returned it back to what it had once been. He smiled at him sadly, and the kid’s frown wavered. Dawn, finally. She tried a tentative smile toward both Buffy and him, and it was all he could do not to sigh.

“So,” he said with his best cocky smirk, trying to hide his emotions. “We’re here. Don’t have all bloody night, either, so let’s…”

He stopped as Buffy let go of his hand and looked at her, alarmed, as she walked toward the counter. For a second, he thought she was going to Angel, and by the startled look on the ex-vampire’s face he wasn’t the only one thinking so. She didn’t even glance at him, though. She walked around the counter, and entered the office. Spike followed quickly, wondering what in hell she was doing now, and came in the small room just as she was opening the lid of a wooden box that was on the desk. At the small, wavering light that was coming out of the box, he understood what was in it, and stepped right behind Buffy to look at it over her shoulder. Warily, she reached in with both hands and pulled the glass orb out, settling it on the desk. There seemed to be flames dancing inside it, bright, colorful, always in movement. It was smaller than his closed fist, but he could have sworn he could feel warmth radiating from it, and its gentle light filled the room. He could have watched it for hours, and just knowing it was his Slayer’s soul in there made the beauty of it even greater.

And then he realized. She had touched it. Nothing had happened. She had noticed too, because she said:

“OK. I tried. Didn’t work. Can we go now?”

She started to move away from the table, but he wrapped both arms around her and held her in place where she was, just in front of the shimmering light that used to be hers.

“Do you remember Heaven, luv?” he asked quietly, his lips just brushing against her ear as he talked.

“Spike, please don’t…”

“Never been there myself”, he continued just as softly. “But I remember you talking about it. I remember feeling privileged just hearing you talk about it. Do you remember what you said, luv?”

She shook her head lightly, but he was sure she did remember. She was just afraid, he reckoned. What sane vampire wouldn’t be afraid to get their soul back? He laced his fingers with hers and held her a bit tighter, trying to impress on her mind that she had nothing to be afraid about.

“You said…”

His voice broke at the bittersweet memory. Privileged that she had confided in him, yes, but heartbroken about the loss in her eyes and voice, and that awful feeling of not being able to do anything for her…

“You said”, he managed to force the words out, “that you had been happy, there. Warm. Loved. Complete. No more fears. No more doubts. No more pain.”

Again, she shook her head. “I feel all that now,” she whispered. “You make me feel it.”

“And how did you feel when the wankers took me away? What if they had killed me? What if it happened again?”

She was trembling in his arms now.

“I don’t want Heaven,” she said after a few seconds. “Not without you. I don’t…”

“Luv… I’m not letting you go anywhere without me, you know that, right? Even if takes me a thousand years, I’ll earn my entry ticket. Just to be with you. And if it’s still not enough, I’ll make so much fuss they will have to let me in anyway.”

He had tried to put a little humor in his voice, and she seemed to relax just a touch.

“I love you,” he whispered against her hair. “I’ll always love you. Soul or no soul. And I want the best for you. I want you warm and loved and happy for all eternity. You want it too, don’t you?”

Long seconds passed, and finally Buffy nodded, just barely. Their fingers still entwined, he pulled her hand away from where he was holding it at her waist. She finished the gesture and touched the sphere again.

* * * * *

At the instant Buffy’s fingers brushed against the glass, it shattered.

Immediately, the light and flames that had been burning inside grew larger, brighter now that they were free, and Buffy’s eyes widened as they suddenly all plunged into her. She tried to ward them off with her hands, freeing them from Spike’s hold, but it was useless. It didn’t hurt, but it definitely felt very unpleasant, and she was sure that, without Spike’s arms around her, she would have fallen to her knees. As it was, the lights had all disappeared, but she was still panting, trying to catch a breath she had no use for, unable to understand what had just happened.

Gently, Spike turned her in his embrace until she was facing him. Still supporting her with one arm, he brought his other hand to her face, and she realized, when his fingers brushed them away, that tears had rolled down her cheeks.

“Buffy, luv”, he murmured, his voice choked up. “Are you alright?”

Still unable to talk, she nodded, just barely, and rested her cheek against his shoulder, trying to calm both her breathing and thoughts. That was when she saw them. They were standing just outside the door, looking in at her and Spike with a mix of curiosity, worry, and hope.

Her friends.

No, not her friends. They had ceased to be just her friends long ago. They had become more. Her family.

And in a flash, it all came back to her. What she had done to Angel. What she had tried to do to Dawn. What she had planned on doing to the others.

She shut her eyes tight, blocking out their sight, but the memories were there, insistent, unavoidable, and all too clear.

The memory of her first bite of a human. Not just anyone, too, but Angel. His light gasp when she had sunk her teeth into his flesh. The music of his heartbeat in her ears, so strong she could almost believe it was her own. And his blood… the taste, the richness, the power, the warmth.

The memory of deciding that, unlike Angel, Dawn wasn’t worth being turned. The fear, so intoxicating, so delicious, of her sister when she had thought she was about to die.

The memory of wanting to turn Steven, until her Sire had asked her not to hurt anyone who shared their blood.

The memory of being angry with the Scoobies, so angry because of how badly they had treated Spike for so long, so angry because they called themselves her friends and yet had been judging her and her choices all these years, without ever caring that their disapproval hurt her so much. The planning she had done, about in what order she would kill them, and how. The taunting she had reverted to when she couldn’t touch them.

The memory of wanting to kill Manon for no other reason than that she was a Slayer. If Slayer blood was really better than human blood as Spike had once said, she had not been going to let the chance escape her to sample it.

The memory of sinking her fangs in another, nameless, human’s throat. And that intense feeling of frustration when Spike had stopped her once again.

The memory of their plans. To travel the world, and sample local foods.

She was suffocating. She didn’t need to breathe, and yet she felt like something was pressing on her chest and preventing her from breathing. In an effort to start feeling better, she pulled herself out of Spike’s tight embrace, and regretted it immediately. Without the comfort of his arms, she felt even worse. Still choking on dry sobs, she opened her eyes, and it hurt to see the pain on her Sire’s face just in front of her. Pain that she had pulled away from him. Pain that she had refused his comfort. She was about to step back in the protective circle of his arms when a murmur caught her attention.

“Buffy?”

She had never heard Dawn sound that hopeful. Or maybe she had, just once. At the top of Glory’s tower. When they had brought her back to life. Unwittingly, she turned to her sister and the rest of the gang, who still hadn’t moved. So much expectation on all of their faces. And for who? Someone who was ready to turn on all of them at the first occasion.

“I’m sorry”, she managed to croak in a too dry voice. “So very sorry…”

It was worse, then, because they smiled at her, as if they were now sure it was their friend in front of them, and not the other. Not the monster. Not the soulless beast they had tolerated because it wore her face.

The smiles were just too much. She looked around her, frantic, looking for a way out while she knew the only escape ran through these people who were still smiling, and why in hell couldn’t they stop smiling? Didn’t they understand what she had almost done? What she had wanted to do?

“Give her some space now, people. Move back. All of you. Please.”

Spike’s voice startled her, and she looked at him, briefly, just as he was reaching tentatively toward her. She couldn’t hold his gaze. Because he had prevented her from killing anyone while he was just as soulless as she had been. Because he had allowed her to feed, once. Because he had all but been ready to give up on his redemption, for her. Because he had to be so disappointed that she had proved to be so weak.

The humans had followed his request and moved back toward the table, she realized. The path was free. So she did the only thing that was left for her to do. She ran.

Chapter 42 - Thought, Word, or Deed

Buffy was running.

Behind her, Spike followed. Not trying to catch up with her, just keeping her in sight. Because she probably needed time to calm down before he could try to talk to her. And because he didn’t have the slightest idea of what he would tell her when he did catch her.

For a moment, right after her soul had returned, he had thought everything would be alright. She had been in his arms, her frantic breathing subsiding, and he had truly believed they were going to get through this, if not easily, then at least together. He had wanted very hard to believe it.

But then, she had pulled away from him, and her panic, her horror, had leapt tenfold. She hadn’t even been able to look at him without flinching. And he knew why, of course. She had to be horrified that he had let her drink from that thug, if not let her kill him. Appalled that he had been ready to take her away and kill with her. But what other solution would he have had, if she hadn’t regained her soul? What else could he have done? She had to understand that.

They must have been quite a sight. Two people running through Sunnyhell, black dusters flowing behind them, as if trying to escape the devil himself. But the citizens of the cursed town knew better than to be too interested in unusual looking things.

She was slowing down now, probably getting tired from running too long. He winced when he saw her stumble and fall to her knees on the ground, the fall thankfully cushioned by soft grass. Slowing down until he was walking, Spike looked around him, recognizing the place. He was still a couple hundred yards away, hesitating about going to her yet, when she picked herself up and took in her surroundings, as if she hadn’t realized where her steps had taken her. She must have recognized the place too, because, to his surprise, she walked the few yards to the front of the church and, pushing the heavy door open, slipped inside.

Even after she had disappeared, his eyes remained on the wooden door, but it wasn’t the door he was seeing, it wasn’t the soft sounds of the night he was hearing. When he pulled out his fags and lighter, his hands were shaking.

Three weeks before – only three weeks? Hell, it felt like centuries – Spike had been the one running aimlessly into the night, chased by Buffy. Or rather, not Spike. William. Not that the difference was that big anymore. He had just missed killing a human, then. An accident, nothing more. But it had broken down all the walls and defenses he had hastily put up to protect himself from his newly returned soul and the voices and guilt that had assaulted him. Running away from the monster he had been, he had ended in the one place monsters were reluctant to enter. A church. This very same church Buffy had just entered.

As the scene that had taken place in there replayed in his mind, Spike’s eyes widened in fear. Flicking away the half smoked cigarette, he rushed to the door. When he had been there before, out of his mind, he had tried to make the mental pain go away by finding some physical one. It hadn’t worked, because crosses didn’t burn humans. But now, they weren’t humans any longer. She wouldn’t try to hurt herself, would she? The simple thought that she could was suffocating him.

* * * * *

“Shouldn’t we go after them?”

Dawn’s murmured question was the first sound in the Magic Box after both vampires had run off into the night. Angel looked at her, and at the rest of the Scoobies, finding the same look on all their faces. Relief, and worry. Relief that Buffy had regained her soul. Worry that her reaction had been to run away from them.

“Give her time,” he replied to the girl. “Let her come to you, when she’s ready. If you try to force things now it will just make it more difficult for everyone.”

Surprisingly, Dawn didn’t scoff at his advice, and just nodded thoughtfully.

“I doubt they’ll be back here tonight”, Giles voiced, his tone clearly shaken.

The Watcher gave a questioning glance at Angel then, as if asking what he thought. It was obvious why they thought he might be qualified to know what Buffy felt like right now, but in truth, he didn’t know that much more than they did. Different circumstances, different people, different ways of losing and regaining their souls.

“Probably not”, he answered nonetheless. “We should all just go home. Wait for Buffy to come to grips with what happened.”

“But we can’t leave her alone!” Willow protested.

Before Angel could reply to that, Manon had said the exact same thing he was thinking.

“She’s not alone.”

There was little discussion after that, and soon they were all out of the shop and separating, each to their own destination. Angel watched them all go, acutely aware, as they walked in pairs or more, of his own solitude.

He made his way toward the mansion without haste, for there was nothing, no one waiting for him there. He couldn’t help looking around as he walked, wondering where Buffy and Spike were, and whether they were OK. Without even realizing what he was doing, he fingered the healed scars on his neck. Buffy had to be alright. As far as he knew, she hadn’t killed anyone, so her soul shouldn’t bring forth too much guilt. Hopefully, it wouldn’t.

It was with a sigh that he entered the mansion, already regretting not to have simply left town and gone back to LA. It wasn’t like his presence was needed here anyway. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the woman – no, the angel – rising from her seat on the sofa until she spoke.

“Hey, Broodboy. Missed me?”

* * * * *

The door creaked a little, startling Buffy out of her thoughts. She knew it was her Sire coming in, she could feel him, had been able to feel his presence ever since she ran out of the store. However, lost in her own world, she had almost forgotten he was just outside, until he came in.

She had been replaying in her mind the events of the last few days, starting with her almost draining Angel, and ending with the visit at the Magic Box, where something had been pulling her to the office, toward her soul. And she couldn’t help the feeling that it was unfair that she could remember so well. When Willow had re-cursed Angel, he hadn’t had the memories of what he had done as Angelus. Why couldn’t it be the same for her? It wouldn’t have hurt so much, then.

In silence, Spike walked to her and took a seat on the bench by her side. She didn’t dare look at him, afraid to discover in his so expressive eyes and face what he thought of her. Hesitantly, he reached out to her hand that was gripping the edge of the bench and covered it with his. She let out a silent sigh at the soft touch.

“Talk to me, luv?” he asked quietly.

Keeping her eyes straight ahead, she shook her head.

“Tell you what?”

“Anything. Why are you in here?”

Good question, really. Why was she, again? What was a vampire, even a souled one, doing in a place of worship, in the proximity of holy water and crosses?

“I don’t know,” she said with the ghost of a shrug. “I was just tired of running.”

“OK. Why were you running, then?”

She almost wanted to roll her eyes at him and ask him if he had been around for the last few days or not. But the words never made their way out of her throat, and instead she mumbled:

“They were smiling at me. I tried or wanted to kill them, and they were smiling like nothing had happened.”

“Did you kill them?”

She received the question like a slap, and instantly turned to look at Spike, aware that her eyes must have been flashing gold. In return, he watched her very calmly, almost impassively.

“You didn’t kill them”, he answered his own question. “You didn’t kill anyone. You thought about it, but in the end, when it was them and you and no more orders to restrain you… You. Still. Did. Not. Kill. Anyone.”

The cool mask flickered, and there was fire in his gaze. Warmth.

“You proved that you can be stronger than the demon,” he continued slowly. “You’re barely more than a fledgling, and you controlled the bloodlust and did not kill a single human being when you had many opportunities. Do you have any idea how strong that makes you?”

It would have been easy to give in, and just accept his soothing words, especially when he was looking at her with such conviction in his eyes. She had been afraid he would think less of her for her lack of control, and all he gave her was barely hidden pride. But she still couldn’t forget.

“I didn’t kill anyone,” she admitted reluctantly. “But I almost drained Angel. And that guy. And we were going to leave and…”

Fingers on her lips shushed her.

“Don’t you start feeling guilty about what could have happened,” he said sternly. “If anyone is to blame about that, it’s me for agreeing to it. And the Poof for helping. And all the Scoobies for not trying to stop us. As for biting… You’re a vampire, luv. And as someone told me not that long ago, a tiger hunts to feed, so did you, and we can blame neither.”

The faintest smile tugged at her lips. Appropriate, that he would give her back words she had offered him when he was the one hurting because of his soul. She almost protested when his hand let go of hers, but immediately his arm was around her, pulling her closer to him, and she rested her head against his shoulder.

“It’s not your fault if your shiny soul went off wandering, luv,” he murmured against her forehead. “And even if it wasn’t pretty every day, in the end, it could have been much, much worse than you taking a couple of bites and scaring the Scoobies with a few well chosen words.”

Closing her eyes, she nodded lightly. She didn’t feel any less guilty about what she had done or wanted to do, but he was right, it could have been a lot worse. She shuddered at the thought, and he held her just a little tighter.

“They love you, you know,” he said quietly after a few seconds. “I’m sure they have forgiven you already. And I bet at this moment they’re worried about you as if nothing had happened.”

And yet, a lot had happened, she thought silently. Even if they forgave her already, she would need to apologize. The sooner, the better. Maybe not tonight, though. She needed a little more time to collect her thoughts.

For a long moment, they remained huddled in the dark church, until Buffy needed to let out the thought that was bothering her.

“Spike? Why did you… I mean, I understand why you stopped me from killing people, you said you didn’t want me to hurt when I got my soul back, and I can’t thank you enough for it.”

She hesitated then, and he prompted her to continue.

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“The thief you let me bite? The passports?” she said quietly. “You had given up on keeping me kill-free. Organized everything for us to go away. And then you take me to the shop and make me want my soul again. Why?”

There was a long pause, and Buffy was almost tempted to look up at her Sire’s face and try to guess what he was thinking. But she did not move, and simply gave him the time he needed.

“Before the wankers took me,” he said at last, “I had given up hope you would get your soul back. Red wasn’t finding anything, the Council was on its way, and I was sure they would try to hurt you. I couldn’t lose you, luv. I would have done anything to keep you, even soulless, because it was still you. . A different you but still you. Anything except control you. I love your fire, your strength. Dominating you every day, every second... Better let you kill than play that game.”

She winced a little as he talked, all too aware that, as Spike had pointed it out before, her soulless self was very similar to her souled one. Except for that little detail that was the guilt, or lack thereof, over killing anything human.

“And then,” Spike continued after pausing for a second, “you free me from Soldierboy, and Peaches tell me about your soul, and how you must want it to get it back. And at first I thought that never in a thousand years you would want that. But then I remembered what you told me. About Heaven. And if I hadn’t tried to make you remember it too, it would have been the same as tearing you out from there. Again. ‘Couldn’t do that to you.”

He finished in a whisper, and brushed his lips to the top of her head. As she opened her eyes at last, she turned up to see his face, and was surprised to find tears in his gaze. Slowly, softly, she brought her lips to his, silently thanking him for remembering even when she had forgotten.

Chapter 43 - Angels and Chocolate

“You were ready to give up your redemption.”

They were walking back toward Revello, fingers entwined, when Buffy suddenly let out these words, half question, half puzzled statement. Spike looked at her sideways, wondering why she hadn’t commented on that earlier, and why she was doing so now.

“I was”, he replied simply, and received a light frown in return.

“You don’t care about it anymore?” she asked. “When you were human, you wanted to make up for… before. And just a few hours ago you were going to add to the numbers.”

“I suppose that not having a soul to torture me over it made things easier”, he tried to joke.

She didn’t seem to find any humor in it, however, and said so explicitly. That sobered him, and when he spoke again his voice was a quiet murmur.

“I am still a demon, pet”, he tried to explain. “Feeling unnatural guilt doesn’t change that. I still remember what it is like to feed off humans, and I still crave it. You know why I became a white hat. I never made a secret that it was because of you, for you, and no other reason. Being human… well, that added another incentive, since I didn’t quite fancy insanity. But with both my soul and yours gone, it was… I’m sorry, but it was pointless.”

He observed her from the corner of his eye for a few seconds, wondering what she was thinking as she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. He imagined she was going to keep on about his so-called redemption, and he was already getting ready for the soulful speech, but it didn’t come.

“If you want to…” she started, and hesitated.

“If I want what?” he encouraged her, curious.

“What you were doing before, you know, scaring bad people… If you want to start doing it again, I won’t stop you.”

He blinked several times as he stopped walking and looked at her, astonished. She returned his gaze levelly, but he could see some uneasiness in her.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly. “You were ready to stake me when you found out. I wouldn’t want you to change your mind again, luv.”

She nodded and gave him a light smile.

“I am sure.”

They started walking again, and Spike couldn’t help but wonder out loud about her change of heart about that particular matter.

“Cordy did say it was alright, didn’t she?” she replied weakly.

“She said that three weeks ago”, he pointed out gently. “And you never even mentioned it.”

“Yeah, well, three weeks ago it didn’t matter because you were human anyway. And… I didn’t know then.”

He cocked his head as he looked at her, but her face was turned forward, hiding her thoughts from him.

“I didn’t know how bad it is,” she continued in a whisper. “Craving for human blood. I can’t believe you went so long only on bags and not having even another vamp to bite.”

Something tightened in Spike’s chest as her words echoed in his mind. Until a few days ago, all Buffy had experienced in lieu of feeding was bagged blood or another vampire, and it had been enough because she didn’t know, couldn’t imagine without actually sinking her fangs into living flesh, how much different it was. How glorious. How deeply satisfying and satiating. But now she knew, and Spike was all too aware that her demon would ask for fresh blood with more force than ever before. And knowing her, he was sure she wouldn’t allow herself to give in.

“Will you help me?” he asked nonetheless.

She shook her head. “I don’t think so,” she said quietly, though there was a catch of hesitation in her tone.

He didn’t insist. She would have time to change her mind about that later if the call became too hard to resist, and he didn’t want her to feel like he was pressuring her into it. And yet, he couldn’t help hoping that she would join him eventually. Soul or no soul, white hats or not, they were demons, and it was useless to pretend otherwise.

They finally arrived home, and entered quietly, Buffy wondering in a whisper:

“Do you think anyone’s here?”

She was anxious to meet the Scoobies; it had been obvious ever since their talk in the church. And he might have made a mistake. He hadn’t pointed out to her that it wasn’t really her that had been going around wanting to hunt and kill. For him, the difference didn’t matter so much. But he knew that it did for the Scoobies, and it had to be…

“Dawn and Steven are. But they’re asleep by now.”

Both vampires were startled by the unexpected answer to Buffy’s inquiry, and found its source in the living room. Spike was surprised at seeing Cordelia sitting in an armchair, and a quick look at Buffy showed that she was just as taken aback. The angel looked remarkably human, Spike mused, not wearing these too white dresses anymore, but comfortable jeans and a blouse.

“You’re a bit late,” he said dryly. “We could have used your help for…”

“Oh, don’t start, bleach boy”, she interrupted him. “Angel already gave me the ‘how could you let that happen’ speech, in length and with as much brooding as he could manage. I’ll tell you why if you will just sit down and listen, alright?”

“What if we don’t care why?” Buffy asked. “Whatever your reasons, you didn’t help. Period.”

“They weren’t my reasons,” Cordelia said mildly. ”The Powers That Be told me not to help you, whatever happened.”

Anger was slowly rising in Spike. Was that the team he was playing for? With the big boss preventing help being given to one of their best fighters? It was becoming ridiculous, and he was going to say so when Buffy asked:

“Why would they do that?”

She had claimed she didn’t care about knowing the cheerleader’s reasons, but apparently, she did.

“It was a test,” Cordy replied, making a face as she did so. “They wanted…”

“Bloody wankers!” Spike growled. “Hasn’t she been through enough already? If that’s how you treat allies…”

Buffy caught his hand, and shook her head lightly, as if telling him it wasn’t worth it.

“It wasn’t Buffy who was being tested,” Cordelia said quietly then. “In fact, she could have done just about anything and they wouldn’t have held it against her.”

Both he and Buffy looked at the brunette in surprise, both trying to understand what she was saying exactly. And then realization dawned on Spike.

“It was me,” he said slowly. “They were testing me. Weren’t they?”

Cordelia nodded. “Yes, it was you, but not only. They were also testing me. And Angel. And Giles. And the new Slayers. A test fest, really.”

“And I failed.” Spike continued as if she hadn’t talked.

Buffy’s hand tightened its grip on his, and Spike forced himself to look at her face. He hadn’t just failed the giant wankers’ test, he had failed his Childe too. He had said he would do anything to join her into Heaven, but he had probably ruined whatever chances he had left.

“You didn’t really fail,” Cordelia commented before he could tell Buffy how sorry he was. “After all, you did help Buffy get her soul back. But there are some concerns that you would have let her kill and killed with her if it hadn’t worked. So you didn’t fail, but you didn’t quite pass either. At this point, the Powers don’t really know what to do with you.”

“Leaving me alone would be a good start,” Spike replied petulantly.

“As long as you hang out with Buffy, you know it’s not gonna happen.”

For a few seconds, he considered the woman in front of him. It wasn’t her fault if he had tied his unlife to Buffy. It wasn’t her fault her bosses were wankers. And it wouldn’t help a thing to yell at her, however good it might have felt. So he kept his mouth shut and simply nodded, more to signify he had heard her that to say he agreed.

“What about you?” Buffy suddenly asked the brunette. “What was your test?”

Cordelia let out a quiet, tired sigh.

“They told me you would lose your soul,” she said, looking straight at Buffy. “And they told me I wasn’t to do a thing about it. Nothing at all. Just let you all deal with the problem. If I had helped against their orders, they would have erased all my memories of my human life, so that you would have been just anyone to me, and I wouldn’t have cared about any of you any more than about anyone else. I just had to hope you would get out of this by yourselves so that I would be able to help in the future. Because you aren’t done with needing help, believe me on that one. And other angels might not care as much as I do whether you get out of it dead or alive.”

As she talked, Spike was mildly surprised to realize the cheerleader sounded angry with all of this, as upset with her bosses as he himself felt.

“Manipulative bunch, eh?” he said quietly.

“You have no idea,” she replied with a tight smile. “But from what I hear, the other side is even worse.”

* * * * *

After Cordelia had left – in what was now her usual fashion, brief flash of light and sudden disappearance – Buffy mindlessly followed Spike into the kitchen. She expected him to get some blood ready and sat down at the island to wait, but she was surprised when, instead of pulling out blood bags from the fridge, he took out some milk and set it to warm on the stove. Next, he took the chocolate from the cabinet, and glanced back at her, an eyebrow arched questioningly.

“Someone seems to have raided our chocolate supply,” he observed, clearly amused.

She gave him a half-smile. “At least there’s some left,” she replied, a bit sheepishly. “But we finished the marshmallows.”

Chuckling lightly, he turned back to the pan and busied himself with preparing hot chocolate, and Buffy just watched him, trying, and failing, not to let her mind work too much over the events of the last days. So much she had to ask forgiving for – as well as forgive herself…

Soon, Spike was pulling her out of her thoughts by placing a full mug in front of her.

“So, who did you eat my marshmallows with?” he asked casually while sipping on his own cup.

She took a mouthful of the drink, finding instant comfort in the familiar taste, before answering. “Manon.”

The quietly uttered name brought a flash of surprise to Spike’s face, and she wondered whose name he had been expecting.

“The other you did seem to like the kid”, he commented, his tone very careful.

The other her… Buffy couldn’t help frowning at the thought. He had said several times that she was the same, was he changing his mind now?

“I said you were you, but a different you,” he clarified when she asked him. “Mostly the same, but not completely. The parts I love were the same. The parts the other people in your life love… well, that’s different. They were talking about bringing you back. So for them, it wasn’t their Buffy they dealt with the last few days. You have to realize that, luv.”

On their own, her lips twisted in a bitter grin. “That’s the easy way out, isn’t it? ‘Hey, I didn’t have my soul, so you can’t blame me for wanting to eat you. Let’s all be friends again.’ That doesn’t make things any better, though. And they won’t look at me the same now.”

Her gaze fell down to her cup and she watched the slow twirls in the chocolate until Spike’s finger under her chin made her look back up at him.

“Do you blame Angel for what Angelus did?” he asked, his voice emotionless.

Her mouth opened, and then closed without a sound. How many times had she used that excuse? How many times had she taken it for a fundamental truth that Angel with his soul and without it were two completely different persons? Not only her. They had all accepted that. All the gang. It hadn’t always been easy, but in the end, there was no doubt left for anyone. Especially not for her. But this line of thought suddenly seemed less convincing when it was used to excuse her own behavior.

“The problem is not so much how they’re going to look at you,” Spike continued, more gently, his hand now cupping her cheek. “It’s how you think they look at you. When they tell you they have forgiven you, don’t start brooding and wondering whether they truly do. Just accept that they don’t blame you for what you did without your soul. No more than they blame Angel.”

Slowly she nodded, and his hand finally separated from her skin. She missed the contact, but it soon returned when, after she had finished her chocolate, he took her hand and led her to their room. They undressed each other before slipping under silk sheets. As soft as the fabric was, it felt rough to Buffy when compared to Spike’s spooning embrace. For a long time, she remained staring into the dark, wondering how things would go when she did see the gang again. Spike’s talk had been reassuring, but it didn’t erase the memories.

A kiss pressed to her bare shoulder startled her out of her grim reflections.

“Enough brooding, Childe,” Spike growled softly against her hair. “Everything will be fine now. So get some sleep.”

It wasn’t a Sire’s order, but the words worked just as well, and soon she had fallen asleep, deeply grateful for and soothed by the protective arms of her Mate around her.

Chapter 44 - 720 Cookies

Dawn had wanted to go and talk to her sister ever since she had awoken, but, for one thing, she knew better than to enter the vamps’ bedroom – still have mental scars from the last time, thank you very much – and for another, as much as it pained her to admit it, she thought Angel was right. It was certainly better to give Buffy space and let her come back to them in her own time.

So she had tried not to think of it too much, and had gone to the UCS campus to catch up on the first three days she had missed. She earned herself a few disapproving glares when she went to her instructors to apologize for her absence, but she couldn’t just explain to them, or even her friends for that matter, that her sister had turned psycho for a while which was why Dawn had had to stay out of town. She’d had to do some serious squirming, and almost had to cry for one, but by noon she had caught up on all the classes she had missed. It was nice that she and Kit had so many classes in common; that had helped a lot. That was the good point of the day.

The bad point was still silent and sullen, walking by her side as they made their way up Revello. They had been arguing the night before – no, not really arguing, they never argued – they had been discussing Buffy’s return to the souled population of Sunnydale. Steven had been a bit too hostile for Dawn’s liking, and she had made her displeasure known. She could understand that he had been shaken by Buffy almost draining Angel, and in retrospect Dawn shouldn’t have given him any hint that Buffy had also tried to kill her. But he seemed to be forgetting something very important. It hadn’t been Buffy. It had been a soulless vampire. He accepted the difference for his father, so he would have to get used to the idea that it was the same for Buffy.

He had insisted on accompanying her to UCS, although it was clear very quickly that he didn’t feel comfortable there, but they hadn’t talked about Buffy anymore. They hadn’t talked much at all, actually, and that was driving Dawn crazy. There was always something going wrong in her life. Just in the last month she’d had Spike being mad at her, an apocalypse, Buffy losing her soul, and now Steven proving that the art of brooding was hereditary. What next?

“Will you please at least be civil toward her?” she asked just as they were coming to the front door.

“As long as she doesn’t try to take a bite out of you again,” he replied morosely.

She rolled her eyes at him. “If you can’t accept that it wasn’t Buffy, then you might as well go find Angelus and go back to LA.”

He frowned when she stressed the name his unsouled father had used, before shrugging.

“I’ll be nice. I do get that it’s not the same person, you know.”

Shaking her head because he didn’t sound that much convinced, she finally opened the door and preceded him inside. Maybe it would be easier if they referred to unsouled Buffy with another name. Buffylus?.. Nah…

Dawn could hear the sound of the shower upstairs, and she didn’t have to wonder who it was because she saw Spike as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. He gave her a small smile above the mug he was sipping from, and she returned it warmly as she walked to him. His surprise was obvious when she hugged him, and he looked at her questioningly.

“Thank you,” she explained. “For what you said to Buffy. For helping her get it back.”

His smile widened slightly, but before he could say anything, another voice rose.

“Yeah, and thank you also for not running off with her on a killing spree.”

Frowning, she turned to Steven, who was glaring at Spike from the kitchen’s entrance.

“You said you’d be nice!” she protested

“To Buffy,” he replied coldly. “You never said anything about him.”

Spike’s hand resting on her shoulder brought Dawn’s attention back to him.

“Big sis is done with her shower,” he said quietly. “Why don’t you go see her? She wants to talk to you.”

Glancing back and forth between the two men, she realized that maybe she had been wrong. It might not be completely because of Buffy that her boyfriend was upset. He hadn’t said a word about Spike, which, in itself, should have given her a clue. And she doubted anything she could say would help; Spike had to fight this battle for himself. As long as it didn’t come to an actual fight, of course.

“I won’t be far,” she said at last. “You’d better not raise a hand against each other or I swear I will kick both your asses myself.”

As she walked by Steven, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and his gaze softened a little. She would have given a lot to know what was going to be said now, but she had another appointment.

* * * * *

The soft knock wasn’t necessary for the vampire to know someone was at the door; the slightly faster than usual heartbeat had already given Dawn away, and reminded Buffy of when she had last heard that beat going too fast. With a sigh, she invited her sister in, and the teen entered the room, slightly hesitant, but smiling.

Buffy didn’t move from her seat at the edge of the bed, the hairbrush forgotten in her hands as she vainly tried to find again the careful words she had prepared.

“Hey,” Dawn finally said when the silence had lasted too long. “Spike said you wanted to talk to me. Which is cool, ‘cause I wanted to talk to you, too. Great minds think alike, huh? So here we are. Talking.”

“Sounds more like babbling”, Buffy managed to tease despite her tight throat.

“Yeah, well, at least I am talking,” Dawn shot back with a grin.

Buffy’s eyes fell to her lap for an instant, but she forced herself to look back up at her sister. It was more difficult like this, but more meaningful.

“I am sorry,” she said quietly. “I apologize for trying…”

“Buffy…” Dawn interrupted softly. “That’s OK, you know. It wasn’t really you, I understand that. We all do. And we’re all really happy you’re back. Me even more than anyone else. I missed you.”

As Buffy nodded and tried to blink away the tears that were threatening to spill, Dawn came to her and gave her a hug.

“You want me to brush your hair?” the brunette proposed quietly as she made a show of looking over the tangled mess that Buffy had been fighting with when she came in.

Again, words were beyond Buffy and she just nodded and gave the brush to her sister, who kneeled on the bed behind her and started working on the knots, cautious not to pull too hard.

“Remember when you used to do this for me?” Dawn murmured after a few seconds.

“You always complained I was hurting you”, Buffy reminisced with a quiet smile. “But you wouldn’t let Mom do it instead of me.”

“How about that time I wanted to be blonde…”

“And you put yellow paint in your hair”, Buffy finished with a soft chuckle.

Dawn laughed quietly, never ceasing her careful brushing. For a little while they shared old memories, and Buffy’s doubts subsided. For her sister, at least, her soulless episode had not broken anything. She only hoped it would be the same with the others.

* * * * *

Dawn’s lips barely brushed his cheek and then she was gone, leaving Steven alone with… With who? A few days ago, he would have called Spike his brother. Or, at the very least, his friend. His best friend. His only friend. The one person he would have trusted with his life. And now, he wasn’t so sure anymore. He wasn’t sure he had the right to see anything more than a vampire in the bleached blonde in front of him. Even if he wished he still could.

“So, get it out already,” the vampire said with what sounded like mild irritation.

“Get what out?” Steven replied coldly. “That I trusted you and you proved to be nothing more than a killer?”

“’Didn’t kill anyone,” Spike replied calmly. “Not recently, at least. And if you didn’t get that part, I am the reason you still have a father, a girlfriend, and a pulse.”

“But you were going to”, Steven spat, now letting his anger out. “You were going to leave with her and just kill like…”

“Like the vampire I am. Is that it? Are you angry at me because you had forgotten what I was?”

For a few seconds, Steven was taken aback. Yes, he had almost forgotten what Spike was. It was easy to forget. It had always been, even before the blonde briefly became human.

“I believed in you,” the brunette murmured. “I believed you were different. You made me believe demons could be good. And that he could, too. But it was all a lie.”

Spike shook his head and sat on a stool at the island. He motioned for Steven to sit across him, but the teen didn’t move from where he stood.

“It’s not a lie, kid. Demons can be good. If they have a soul or if they choose to be. But sometimes other choices are forced on you. What else could I have done? Stake her? You know I can’t do that. I’d stake myself first. And I wouldn’t let anyone harm her. Just like you would protect Dawn whatever happened to her.”

“If Dawn was turned and started killing people I…”

The words died in Steven’s throat just as Spike raised an eyebrow at him. That simple, wordless question made him realize that no, if Dawn was turned, he wouldn’t be able to stake her, as he had been about to say. He would try to get her a soul, try to prevent her from hurting anyone, but in the end, if it came to that, he wouldn’t be the one to stake her. If it came to that, he might be the one helping her escape. He might be the one setting a demon loose on the world. This sudden awareness felt like a nasty punch, and he didn’t realize he had moved until he was seated at the island across Spike.

“You and I,” Spike said softly, “we share more than blood. We’d both do anything for our girls. I don’t say it excuses me. But now you understand. I wouldn’t have let anything happen to any of you. But I couldn’t let anything happen to her either.”

Unwittingly, Steven nodded as he considered the man in front of him. They were indeed very much alike, he reflected. And that might have been why the idea that Spike would allow Buffy to do as she pleased had been so disturbing, even more disturbing than what Buffy would have chosen to do then. Maybe he had unconsciously recognized that, in similar circumstances, he might have done the same thing. Even if he had hated himself for it.

* * * * *

She had known they were coming, but Anya was nonetheless startled when the basement door opened and the two blonde vampires came into the store. She feigned not to notice them and kept on giving advice to a customer about what candles were better for specific spells. Not that said customer looked like she would ever know the difference between the fake spells from the commercial book she kept referring to or real spells that could… that could take someone’s soul from them, for example. The simple thought sent a shiver down her spine, and she gave up trying to steer her customer to the proper but more expensive candles, selling her instead the cheap, smelly, and ineffective ones to get rid of her faster.

Once she had rung the sale and ushered the departing woman from the store, she allowed her gaze to search for the two vamps. They were at the research table, obviously waiting for her. Xander had managed to convince her the night before that soulful Buffy and soulless Buffy were not to be confused, but that didn’t mean she felt any better being in the same room as the vampire. She had said she would try not to make things overly difficult for her. That didn’t imply, however, that she would make things easy.

She grabbed a small crystal on a display and without warning threw it at Buffy. Although she was clearly surprised, the vampire caught it in midair, and looked at it, puzzled. Before she had glanced back up, Anya had muttered three words, an incantation, and the crystal shone in Buffy’s hand, slowly turning from clear to opaque with bits of colors. Satisfied that Buffy was indeed souled, Anya took a few steps toward the vampires.

“What was that?” Buffy asked, baffled.

“Anyanka was just checking your soul status, luv,” Spike replied with a hint of amusement.

Oh, the bleached blonde was clever. Calling her Anyanka, and reminding her that she, too, had been a demon, and had done far worse than Buffy ever had…

There was a small glint of recognition in Buffy’s eyes at Spike’s words, and she looked at him questioningly, but Anya didn’t give her time to talk. Standing in front of her, arms crossed and foot taping, she announced:

“I’m waiting. I want apologies. Extended, sincere, and very convincing. A little groveling wouldn’t hurt, either. And while we’re at it, I expect a dozen guilt cookies, Willow style, every day at four o’clock sharp for a month. Make that two months.”

Buffy looked at her, mouth gaping, the forgotten crystal still in her hand. Behind her, Spike threw his head back and laughed out loud.

* * * * *

A few minutes after Anya’s blunt demands, Buffy had fulfilled the requirements to be reintegrated into the ex-demon’s good graces. At least the apologies part. Just thinking about the number of cookies she would have to bake for Anya… well, it could have been worse. She could have asked a lot more, and still Buffy would have tried to satisfy her. It had only been words that had hurt Anya, but really nasty ones. Chocolate chip cookies it would be. And all batches would be perfect.

She was still a bit perplexed by the crystal soulcheck thing, even more so because she remembered Spike doing the exact same thing a few weeks back. Why had he been checking if she had a soul, then? Or maybe it wasn’t her soul he had been wondering about… That definitely called for an interrogation of her Mate later.

Later it would have to be, because right now Anya was back to taking her duties as official wedding planner very seriously. She was currently writing down a list of things they had to decide on, oblivious to the facts that Spike was bored to death – bored to life? – and that Buffy wasn’t paying much attention even though she nodded at all the right places. It was somewhat amusing that the woman had jumped right back to the point they had last been discussing before Buffy had lost her soul, as if the extended, sincere, and convincing apologies had been enough to erase the last few days from her memory.

That was just fine to Buffy, actually, and it might make the transition a bit easier. She was pleased that Spike, although visibly bored, had not protested about the planning part. While she was… someone else, she remembered thinking that a wedding was really unnecessary for vampires, and she was glad her other self had not made her doubts known to her Sire. Normal vampires might not think much of marriage, but they were both anything but normal. And even if it was only a symbol, since they were already Mates, it meant a lot to her to share that with him.

The doorbell chimed, and Anya excused herself to go greet and help the entering customer. Spike caught Buffy’s gaze.

“How about we run away while she’s not looking?” he suggested, sotto voce.

Buffy shook her head and smiled. “She’ll only jump right back in next time we see her.”

“But I can’t take it”, Spike literally whined, looking at her with pleading puppy eyes. “She’s going to kill me with all her scheming and plotting and color coordination!”

“And yet we’ll have to suffer through it”, Buffy sighed.

She thought for a second, and a smile tugged at her lips.

“There’s a way to make it less painful, though,” she said in a conspiring tone. “The quicker we actually get married, the less time she’ll torture…”

She was interrupted by Spike lips roughly taking possession of hers.

“Best bleeding idea I’ve heard in a long time,” he said with a grin when he pulled away from her. “Think we can do it today?”

Chapter 45 - Plans

Despite his pleading, Spike didn’t manage to convince Buffy to simply elope and escape Anya’s hellish planning. In truth, though, he didn’t really care about the ‘when’. The simple fact that Buffy had gone along with Anya and picked up the preparation right where they had left it a few days before was strangely heartwarming to him, a proof, if he needed one, that everything was getting back to normal. After a little discussion, and with Anya’s lengthy input, they decided on a date, of a week later. Enough time for the ex-demon to get planning-happy, but close enough that she wouldn’t make them completely insane with her fussing. They decided on a location, too, and that question didn’t require much thinking. Anya looked a bit puzzled by their choice but merely commented that she needed to see the place as soon as possible for reasons Spike didn’t even want to try to comprehend.

Giles arrived in the middle of the afternoon, and Spike could have sworn he saw tears in the man’s eyes when Buffy tentatively went to him. A short talk followed, apology and forgiveness, reassurances that Buffy wasn’t to blame for her alter-ego’s words and deeds. Then his Mate asked her Watcher something she had already asked, long ago, when they had been under Willow’s spell. This time, he didn’t protest and heartily accepted to be the one to give her away. Giles had news of his own, which was that he had just been named Head Watcher, and would be leaving the next day for London, yet again. He assured Buffy, however, that he would come back in time for their wedding.

A little while later, the two Slayers and their Watchers arrived. Manon seemed rather upset when she came into the shop, but she apparently was sincerely glad when she saw that Buffy was back to being herself. For a change, it was Travers who apologized to Buffy for what her father had done instead of the other way around. Hearing that the wanker was dead felt like justice to Spike, and he could admit to himself that this one human he would have felt no guilt about killing. The other Watcher and Slayer both seemed slightly uneasy to be formally introduced to Buffy, and even more so when she proposed a round of training to the bint. Without Giles intervention, the new Slayer might have refused the offer of her elder, and Spike began to guess why his soulless Mate had disliked Chloe. He didn’t follow them to the back room – the last thing he needed now was to risk another kid taking a liking to him if he spent too much time with her. There was an interestingly heated discussion when Travers tried to have Manon join her fellow Slayers and only received unyielding refusal. The kid had taken a seat on the mezzanine, just like the day before, and she wasn’t coming down. The Watcher finally gave up and joined the others in the back room.

For a while, Spike ignored the kid as he played with an unlit cigarette, very aware that Anya would stake him if he even looked like he was going to light it, and actually amused by the pointed looks she was throwing at him from behind the counter. In the end, he put the fag back into its package and just gave in to his curiosity.

“So, kiddo, what’s up with the attitude?”

Manon looked at him, her face as void of emotions as her voice when she said:

“Andrea ne veut pas me laisser rentrer en France. “

That was it? She was homesick and her Watcher wouldn’t let her go?

“Did you ask Giles? He’s the big guy, now. I’m sure he’ll…”

“Ils sont amants,” she interrupted abruptly. “Ca m’étonnerait qu’il la contrarie pour moi.”

Spike couldn’t help raising an interested eyebrow at that. Old Rupert had finally made his move, then? He wondered how the kid knew. But he couldn’t believe she was right when she said Giles wouldn’t allow her to go home, he had to see that Manon’s presence wasn’t really needed here, and no one could force her to do Slayer things if she decided to go on a slaying strike. He let the subject drop, however, and made a mental note to say a few words to Giles in private before his departure.

“Anyway… I wanted to thank you. For helping Buffy. It’s good that she wasn’t alone.”

“I didn’t do it for her.”

Mentally, Spike cursed himself. That would teach him to be polite. What was he supposed to answer to that? He might have to go back to dirty tricks and be just plain mean to her until she left. He was saved from starting right away when Willow and Tara entered the shop, their gazes sweeping the room, obviously looking for someone.

“She’s training,” he supplied helpfully.

They came closer and he exchanged a few words with them, mostly about how Buffy was feeling and what they could do to help. His opinion was that they just needed to be themselves, and, above all, honest. Lying to Buffy about their feelings would only make things more complicated in the long run, and they seemed to agree about that.

Before they could go to the backroom, Anya caught their attention and all three of them locked themselves in the office. Despite his efforts, Spike couldn’t hear a word of what they were saying, so they must have been whispering in there, which made him even more curious. His plan to sneak up on them was however stopped by the sudden, although not unexpected, appearance of Xander. For a second, he seemed alarmed at finding the store empty save for Spike and the kid Slayer. Although playing with him might have been fun, the vampire informed him of the location of his wife, and Xander visibly hesitated about going in there. In the end, he came by the research table, hands buried deep in his pockets.

“So, how are things going, Fangboy?” he asked companionably.

“Just peachy,” Spike replied on the same tone.

“Buffy’s OK, then?”

“Fine. A bit of the guilty side, but working on that. She’s training right now, if you want to see her.”

A small smile graced the human’s lips as he briefly glanced at the backroom’s door.

“I suppose Anya made her cookies demand?” he asked, clearly amused.

Spike only nodded in reply, still laughing inside at the unexpected request.

“How about you?” Xander asked suddenly, this time more subdued.

“How about me what?” Spike shot back, now on a defensive stand.

“Are you alright? I suppose it hasn’t been any easier on you than it has been on us. Worse, with the vampnapping bit in the middle.”

The genuine concern in the human’s voice and expression left Spike speechless for a few seconds. He hadn’t expected the brunette, or any of them for that matter, to worry for him. Blame him for almost having taken Buffy away, yes, but not actually care that the adventure hadn’t been particularly pleasant for him either.

“I’m fine,” he finally said with the best cocky smirk he could manage.

Just as Xander was giving him a short nod, the three women came out of the office, still whispering softly, and wearing identical conspiratorial grins. Apparently as puzzled as Spike felt, Xander went to them and kissed Anya’s cheek. The ex-demon whispered something in his ear, but this time Spike could catch what was being said, and a small smile fluttered on his lips. Pretty soon, Xander and the two Wiccas were walking to the door, the man now sharing the same grin as them.

“Hey, wait,” Spike called to them. “Why don’t you guys take Manon with you? She’s getting bored here.”

The three humans looked at each other, before giving a collective OK.

“Je ne veux pas…” Manon started, sullen.

“Go with them and actually do something fun,” Spike interrupted her sternly, “or stay here and fight with Travers when she wants you to go patrol. Your choice.”

Her eyes shot daggers at him, but she did jump down from the mezzanine and joined the Scoobies. Anya looked at him as they left, both with curiosity and annoyance.

“You heard?” she asked. “Are you going to tell Buffy?”

“Tell Buffy what?” he replied innocently, and Anya smiled at him.

* * * * *

For an hour or so, Buffy sparred with Chloe, and it was quickly apparent that the new Slayer was trying to prove something. Though it wasn’t clear whether she was trying to prove it to herself, to Buffy, or to the three Watchers present. It didn’t matter, however, because it was Buffy who made her point, repeatedly. Even if she had been training for years before actually being called, the girl wasn’t as good as she wanted to believe. On the contrary, being under the Council’s thumb for so long had narrowed her vision to a world of black and white that held no place for vampires fighting alongside her. She would have to get used to it, Buffy told her after deciding the lesson had lasted long enough. Training with her and Spike, learning from them about surviving was possibly the best chance the girl had to last more than a few years. If she couldn’t accept that, she might as well go back to England and leave the Hellmouth to Buffy’s care.

After Chloe and her Watcher had left, Buffy returned inside the shop with Giles and Andrea, and discussed with them what had to be changed in the Council as far as she was concerned. The instruction given to the potential Slayers about demons, for one thing, was severely lacking in her opinion, although she might have been slightly biased by the fact that now she was one herself.

She was surprised and disappointed that the rest of the gang had not showed up, she had truly wanted to see them and know whether their friendship had been altered by the last few days’ experience. Anya simply said that her husband was working late and that Willow and Tara had prior engagements. She was surprised, also, but not as much as Andrea, that Manon had left. The kid hadn’t seemed very well, earlier, and Buffy had hoped for a little private time with her.

As night fell, Anya insisted on visiting the place they had chosen for the wedding right away. She had a brief discussion with Giles in the office before they left the store, and the two Watchers soon declined to accompany them. Anya was really being very jealous of her prerogatives as wedding coordinator, Buffy mused as Spike drove them along the same streets she had been running through just the night before.

When the ex-demon had asked them earlier where they wanted to get married, Buffy had looked at Spike, and known immediately that he was thinking the same thing as she was. Once more, not a typical thing, more a place that vamps avoided as much as they could, but neither of them cared. It was the one place where, twice, they had opened their hearts and souls to each other, more so than ever before despite all they had shared. So what if it happened to be a church?

Buffy was a little amused when they walked past the heavy wooden door to see Anya pull out a notepad and start to take notes and measurements. She left her to her own devices, listening distractedly as Anya made comments about candles, decorations and flowers, and simply enjoyed the feeling of Spike’s arm at her waist. Tonight, they had come here with a purpose, not to simply escape their inner demons, and the quiet serenity of the place was soothing. For the first time, Buffy took a good look around her. It wasn’t very elaborate, just bare stone walls, a quantity of small flickering candles, wood benches, and that large cross she couldn’t look at without flinching.

“With a little work,” Anya announced after a few minutes, obviously satisfied with her inspection, “I can make this a suitable place for a wedding. Now we need someone to actually pronounce you husband and wife.”

“I believe that would be me.”

Buffy and Anya were startled by the appearance of an old man, a priest by his demeanor, from a door to the side of the altar. Glancing up at her Sire, Buffy realized that he had probably noticed him before he spoke, for he didn’t look very surprised.

“It would be a nice change,” the priest continued as he slowly came closer to them. “It seems that all that ever happens here is funerals. But do not worry, I still remember how to celebrate a wedding.”

There was a calmness emanating from him, along with a quiet joy, that somehow made Buffy feel immediately at ease.

“That’s very nice of you,” she said with a smile. “I am Buffy, and this is my fiancé Spike and our friend Anya.”

“I am quite pleased to meet you,” the priest replied, beaming. “I am Father Michael. When do you want to celebrate your union?”

“A week from now,” Anya chimed in.

The old man nodded slowly. “A week it is, then. After nightfall, I assume? The sanctuary is very beautiful when it is lit by candles, you’ll see. Oh, and I suppose we could cover the cross, if it would make you feel more comfortable.”

At the suddenly baffled look on Buffy’s face, that was mirrored by Spike’s, the priest let out a quiet laugh.

“Not all of Sunnydale’s population is in denial about the existence of demons,” he said with a hint of mischief in his voice. “And for someone who has learned enough not to walk outside at night without a cross and a bottle of holy water, it isn’t hard to notice that demon’s don’t only hunt but are also hunted.”

He paused for a second, and his tone was more serious when he continued.

“Voices travel well, in here, and I am afraid that I have overheard from my office conversations that were meant to be private…”

Buffy nodded, understanding what he was saying he had heard.

“I’d be honored to be the one to marry you, my children,” he added at last, smiling again.

The two vampires exchanged a look, communicating wordlessly with an eyebrow raised questioningly, a small smile, a nod. Buffy supposed that Spike didn’t feel any more comfortable than she did at the idea that a man they had never met before knew who and what they were, but he seemed trustworthy.

“Alright,” Anya said suddenly, ticking off something on her notepad, seemingly oblivious to the tension that was now subsiding. “We have a day, a place, a minister, I have a few ideas for decoration, we still need a dress, a tuxedo, rings…”

The list seemed to go on and on, and from the determination in Anya’s voice, Buffy wasn’t really certain any more if Anya remembered for sure which of them would be the one walking down the aisle…

Chapter 46 - Surprise

Finding a reason to go to Revello before driving Anya home wasn’t something Spike had thought about, but the ex-demon took care of the problem as soon as they exited the church after having settled everything with the priest. She casually announced that there was something she wanted Spike to change on the shop’s website, and Buffy never questioned that she needed to come home with them for that. She did bring up going on patrol by herself while Spike went with Anya, but he had little trouble making her forego that, arguing that Chloe was undoubtedly out there already and that after all the recent events Buffy needed some quiet time.

As he drove them through the town, the two women discussed flowers and colors, and Spike was quite content that they were not asking him his opinion. He was actually quite content, period. Finding a minister who wouldn’t question the time they wanted to get married and who had even suggested himself making the cross as inconspicuous as possible had been nice. And unexpected. Spike wasn’t too sure what to think about the man overhearing his talks with Buffy, but he had a feeling that they could trust him with their secrets. Not because he was a man of religion, that had little meaning to the vampire, but rather because of the impression he had had while listening and talking to him.

When they arrived home, all the lights were out, and the house appeared empty. But, as he opened the door for Buffy to step inside first, the lights were suddenly all turned on as the Scoobies revealed themselves and their surprise. As she stared, completely stunned, at their house, newly decorated with streamers, balloons, ribbons and banners, Spike eased the duster off her shoulders and pushed her toward her clapping friends. A group hug followed, from which he deftly and almost miraculously escaped.

He had heard Anya explain to Xander earlier that the Witches were going to Revello Drive to prepare a surprise wedding shower for Buffy, which would also serve as a big all-is-better-we-survived-let’s-celebrate party. Dawn and Steven were also present, of course, as well as Giles, surprisingly without Andrea, a happier looking Manon, and the poof and the cheerleader, who had also escaped the general hug time by retreating to the living room.

In the midst of general confusion and laughter, Buffy was led to the living room. At the same time, Anya shooed the five men out of it and confined them to the kitchen, with promises of dreadful vengeance if they dared put their noses into what was women’s business.

“I didn’t have enough time to get a giant fake cake and a dancer,” Xander told Spike with a hint of humor in his voice, “so the bachelor’s party won’t be that great, but at least I got your favorite beer.”

With that, he pulled a few imported beers out of the freezer and gave one to each man. Spike noticed that Angel was glaring at the bottle in Steven’s hands, and he intervened before the ex-vampire could object.

“One beer won’t kill him, Peaches. Especially not a good one.”

The glare shifted from the bottle to Spike, but Angel didn’t say a word, and finally shrugged his agreement. There were peals of laughter coming in waves from the living room, and it didn’t take long for the men to silently decide to leave the house. They didn’t go far, just to the back deck and garden, and all took seats within a few feet of each other.

“So, what do we do now?” Spike asked after a minute or so of comfortable silence. “If it’s a party in my honor, I expect to be entertained.’

“Yeah, well, if I had had more time to plan, I could have come up with something decent,” Xander tried to justify himself. “What’s the sudden rush in getting married?”

“You mean aside from your wife pestering us?” Spike shot back, his tone softening the words. “I finally understand why…”

He cut himself in time, remembering that the rest of the company didn’t know about Xander’s cold feet episode on his own wedding day.

“Anyway,” he continued after taking a swig of beer. “I don’t really mind a quiet night. Nice change after a bit too much agitation.”

There were a few nods at that.

“Talking about agitation, you might be happy to know the Initiative or whatever they call themselves now is out of town. And hopefully for good this time,” Giles said casually.

Spike arched an interested eyebrow at him. “How do you know, Watcher?”

“Angel and I had a little talk with Riley and his direct superior. I think they both understood it will be in their best interest not to try to interfere in Sunnydale’s business again.”

There was a definite Ripper’s undertone in Giles voice, and when Spike glanced at Angel, the wicked turn of his lips briefly made him wonder about his soul. A quick glance at Xander and Steven revealed that they apparently didn’t know any more than he did about what had happened.

“I have this feeling it would be a lot of fun to hear how this little talk went exactly,” Spike commented with a small grin.

Giles and Angel exchanged a glance, and both shook their heads.

“What I would like to know,” Angel changed the subject, “was what exactly happened to Riley to put him in that state. I’ve never seen anyone so…”

His voice trailed off, and Spike had the very distinct impression that he did remember someone as broken as the soldier had probably been. His glance turned inquisitive, and Spike’s lips curved in a smile around his bottle. Nice to know he hadn’t completely lost it.

“Who is Riley?” Steven asked suddenly, his voice perfectly inexpressive. “Was he hurt?”

“Riley is a wanker who had nothing better to do than chain me to a wall while Buffy needed supervision,” Spike replied, trying not to sound too smug. “For some reason, he had the very strange idea that I had put the Slayer under thrall. And, no, he isn’t hurt. Not physically, at least.”

Spike was surprised to hear Xander chuckle, and he cocked a questioning eyebrow at him.

“That’s just funny,” the brunette tried to explain. “You can’t even do thrall.”

It was Angel’s turn to laugh, briefly, and all eyes turned to him.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, obviously stifling more laughs, before throwing a small smile at Spike that said he had understood what Spike at done, the general idea if not the exact details.

“Harris, for your information, because I usually don’t play with thralls doesn’t mean I can’t do them.”

The shocked look on Xander’s face was utterly satisfying. Giles was frowning, apparently thinking about something. Steven didn’t seem traumatized or appalled. All good.

“You… can do thrall?” Xander muttered, almost incredulous. “You too, Angel?”

“Hey, human here, remember?” Angel reminded him, his amusement at Xander’s surprise very loud in his voice. “No more thrall powers than you.”

“But all this time,” Xander insisted, “you could have…”

“We could have,” Spike interrupted him, “but we didn’t. Not our style.”

There was a short pause, until Giles added, his voice suddenly very cool:

“And I would imagine that neither of you would have needed to bother developing thrall while you had an expert close by.”

It took an instant for Spike to understand what the Watcher was saying, and when he did he felt a pang of guilt run through him. He shot a look at Angel, who apparently had caught the meaning of Giles words too.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” The Watcher said, slightly apologetic, when he noticed their sudden uneasiness. “Just thinking out loud. Maybe we can find another subject to talk about?”

“Something everyone understands, for example,” Steven suggested dryly.

And so, they found another subject. And two hours later, they were still talking and laughing when Giles announced that it was time for him to turn in. He claimed that his plane was early and he wanted to rest before a long trip, but Spike suspected that he wanted to spend some time with his bird before flying away. He didn’t say anything however, and simply reminded the Watcher to be back to Sunnydale in time for the wedding. The man had soon left, Xander with him as he had offered him a ride back to his hotel. Steven also momentarily deserted to satisfy natural needs, leaving a vampire and his human Sire together.

* * * * *

Playing idly with an empty bottle, Angel observed Spike as he took long drags off his cigarette. His Childe feigned casualness, but he knew him too much not to see the underlying tension. Or maybe he was just projecting his own. But why would he be nervous, after all? Why would either of them be?

“Elisabeth Angela was almost cute,” Spike said at last, breaking the too heavy silence. “But William Connor? Couldn’t you have found something less… poncy?”

“I think it fits you perfectly,” Angel replied smugly. “And just be glad I didn’t have you become American. I had to pay extra for the British passport.”

Spike’s reply was an exaggerated horrified shudder.

“Your money is in my duster,” he said after a couple of seconds. “Remind me to give it back to you before you leave.”

Angel couldn’t help staring at the blonde in front of him. Spike, offering to give back money without someone twisting his arm? That was surely the sign of an impending apocalypse!

“Keep it. Buffy’s gonna need a nice dress, you a tux, and rings. Or get yourself a nice honeymoon.”

The vampire’s eyes narrowed, his lips set in a thin line.

“You don’t have to pay for that,” he said abruptly.

“I don’t have to,” Angel acquiesced. “Doesn’t mean I can’t.”

“Why? Buffy bites you, you buy her a dress? Sorry, I don’t see the logic in that.”

Angel let out a deep sigh, raising his eyes to the sky.

“Sometimes I wonder why I ever bothered turning you,” he said, mildly annoyed. “You are the most stubborn and thick headed creature I ever had to deal with.”

“And here I thought that the cheerleader had that crown. Did you shag her yet?”

The unexpected change of topic, delivered deadpan with just a slightly raised eyebrow left Angel speechless for a second. And then he did the only sensible thing. He laughed. He realized now that Spike was just falling back into old habits and doing what he did best. Irritate his Sire for the sheer pleasure of it. First questioning his choice of names, then proposing to give back money he probably suspected Angel wouldn’t want, asking questions to which he either already knew the answers or knew he wouldn’t get a reply…

In another time, another place, another life, the vampire would have gotten a beating for purposefully annoying his Sire. Or a ‘shag’, as he so elegantly put it. Or both. But it wasn’t the time and place anymore. And Angel doubted he wanted neither. All his annoying Childe wanted was, well, to be annoying.

“You’re impossible, you know?” he announced, shaking his head. “And what I do with Cordy is none of your business, boy.”

The eyebrow raised just a little more, and there was a definite light of mischief in the clear blue eyes that were fixing Angel. He could feel there was more coming on this train of thoughts, so he once more changed the subject to something safer. His developing relationship with Cordelia wasn’t exactly something he wanted to discuss with anyone, and especially not his Childe when he was in a playful mood.

“Did you ask Steven yet?”

The amused look was wiped off Spike’s face instantly, replaced by nothing Angel could recognize. Before Spike could answer, the screen door was pushed open and Steven reappeared.

“Ask me what?” he asked as he handed out both older men fresh beers and settled down with a soda.

Spike made a face, as if he had a bad taste in his mouth, and Angel wondered briefly if he had changed his mind.

“Ask if you would be my best man for the wedding,” the blonde said too impassively. “But I’ll understand if you don’t…”

“Sure,” the teen interrupted him. “I’d be glad to.”

Spike’s features relaxed into a relieved smirk, and he raised his bottle in a silent toast. Steven returned the gesture with a smile of his own, and Angel couldn’t help grinning at the picture they made. Strange how these two sons of his could be so similar when so many things separated them.

“So,” Steven said hesitantly after a second, his smile fading slightly, “what’s a best man?”

Chapter 47 - Transitions

Wrapped in her Mate’s embrace, teetering between sleep and consciousness, Buffy felt warm. Not physical warmth, neither of them had any to give the other. No, she felt warm inside, in her heart and soul. She just felt loved. And not only by him, but by everyone for whom she cared.

Two days before, her friends and family had proved to her in the simplest and most touching way that they didn’t hold against her what she had done or said without her soul. At some point during the night or another, she had managed to speak to each of them in private, and all had given her the same response, if in different words. Whatever had happened, whatever might happen in the future, they were and still would be there for her. She only hoped she could be as good a friend to them as they were to her.

The little surprise party-wedding shower had been nice. The girls had gotten her a few funny gifts, they had watched a Kleenex movie, talked about dresses, and made plans for the week and the preparations. She had asked Dawn to be her bridesmaid – she would have asked all of them, but it would have been a bit strange since they would be the only guests. Dawnie had happily accepted, but requested, out of Anya’s earshot, that Buffy chose any color but green for her dress. Laughing, Buffy had told her she could get whatever color and style she wanted, as long as it fell within their price range. This, surprisingly, wouldn’t be as much of a problem as Buffy had first thought it would, because two unlikely sources were pitching in.

The previous afternoon, Giles had called from England and made Buffy and Spike an offer on behalf of the New Council. He had admitted it was his idea, but the whole organization was with him on this. He had apparently decided not to follow his predecessor’s example, but had decided, instead, to explain his plans, discuss them, and gain approval of the majority of Watchers whenever possible. His offer had been simple. He wanted the two vampires to formally work with the New Council in training Slayers, potential Slayers, and possibly even Watchers. Exactly what they had been doing with Manon and Chloe, except that they would help prepare more people, and, of course, would be paid for it. Handsomely. From what he had explained, he wanted the New Council to financially help the active Slayers so that they would never find themselves in a situation such as Buffy’s after her mom’s death. Accordingly, Buffy would receive compensation, too, but he was proposing for her and Spike what was basically a full time job, and at much better pay.

They had talked about it for a little while before calling Giles back and giving him their answer. First, they certainly could use the money, and it would be nice not to worry any more about Dawn’s college tuition, among other things. Second, they would be around, hopefully, for a long time, and no one could say how long the Magic Box would remain open or even profitable. Accepting the New Council’s offer was putting all financial worries behind them as long as they were careful in their investments. And finally, there was the question of the Slayers. Both Buffy and Spike, although maybe for different reasons, thought it was good to help the chosen kids to live a little longer if they could, be it by showing them how to fight, or by helping them mentally to accept what they were. In the end, the choice had not been difficult. They had, however, a condition to their acceptance. It had been Spike’s idea, but she had understood easily where it had come from.

* * * * *

As they were about halfway through the movie, Buffy noticed Manon slipping into the kitchen, presumably to get a drink, and she followed as inconspicuously as possible. She had talked to the Witches already, and Manon was the last on her list as far as the girls were concerned. She had cornered Xander as he was coming back from dropping Giles off at his hotel, and had talked to Steven earlier in the day. The only person left, other than Manon, was Angel, and she very much dreaded that talk. And yet it would have to come, sooner or later. He was the only one that she had actually physically hurt.

“Hey, Manon. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

The kid closed the fridge from which she had pulled a soda can and observed Buffy warily for a second, before shrugging.

“Talk about what?” she asked as she leaned against the counter.

“About you patrolling with the soulless me the past few days.”

“It wasn’t patrol,” Manon remarked quietly.

Buffy nodded. “True. Whatever it was, thank you for helping. Without you I’m not sure I could have found him. But you do realize it was incredibly dangerous, right?”

One corner of Manon’s mouth lifted in a twisted smile.

“Yes, I know that spending my nights next to a soulless vampire wasn’t exactly the safest thing. Andrea was explicit about that already.”

“I’m just glad I didn’t hurt you,” Buffy added softly.

Manon gave a small nod, but her gaze had fallen to the floor and she seemed suddenly withdrawn, as she had been earlier at the shop. Buffy wasn’t sure what was wrong, but she doubted the girl was close enough to anyone else to tell them. She had been close to Andrea, but their link had seemed very tense in the afternoon, as if they had been arguing repeatedly about something.

“Is there something wrong? Something you’d like to talk about with someone?”

The girl started shaking her head, but then her eyes came back up to look at Buffy.

“I didn’t care.”

“You didn’t care about what?”

“I didn’t care that you were dangerous. I didn’t care that you could have killed me in a second. All I cared was to know that he was alright and that just meant going around with you.”

The vampire looked at the young Slayer in front of her, at loss for words. She knew quite well what it was like to be in love without having any hope of ever being with the person you loved. But that didn’t mean she knew how to console the girl. And it was even more uncomfortable because it was Spike they were talking about.

“It can’t keep on like this,” Manon added in a whisper, more for herself than for Buffy it seemed. “I’m so distracted all the time that I’m going to get myself killed. Half the time he is so nice and then he’s just mean and I just can’t stop loving him. I just wish my spell had worked.”

The last words had come out almost like a plea, and quiet tears were rolling down the girl’s cheeks. Still unable to find the words she needed to hear, Buffy came to the Slayer and gave her an awkward hug.

* * * * *

They had accepted Giles offer, on the condition that no girl, Slayer or potential, would be forced to come to or remain in Sunnydale. Whoever would train with the vampires would do so of their own choice, would be allowed to visit their home twice a year, at the New Council’s expense, and would be able to stop their training without needing to give a reason. Giles had agreed. Buffy and Spike were now officially on the New Council’s payroll. Manon would soon be on her way to France.

The wedding being in only a few days, the vampires wouldn’t get their first paycheck in time for it. But another source of unexpected funds had revealed itself. Spike had told her that Angel had refused to take back their escape money. She had been surprised, because she had forgotten about that, and because Angel hadn’t mentioned it when she had finally had her little talk with him.

* * * * *

Manon dried her tears, gave a weak smile to Buffy and returned to the living room without another word. The vampire remained where she was, trying to collect her thoughts. The girl was right, something had to be done before she got herself hurt. But what?

She was pondering the question when Angel came in through the back door, apparently as startled to find her there as she was to see him now. They exchanged similarly hesitant smiles, and a few seconds passed before a single word was spoken. And when they spoke, they did so at the same time.

“How is your party…”

“Angel, I’m sorry…”

They stopped talking at the same time, and started again together.

“Going fine, lots of fun.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

Frowning at the ex-vampire’s words, Buffy took a couple of steps to stand in front of him and pulled on the collar of his shirt, exposing the scars she had left there.

“It does look like something to me,” she commented.

With careful moves, he did the exact same thing as she had, tugging on the edge of her blouse to reveal his mark on her skin.

“Did I ever apologize for that?” he asked quietly. “I can’t seem to remember.”

“It’s not the same,” she protested. “You were ill and…”

“And so were you,” he interrupted gently. “In a way, you were. So don’t worry about it. No harm done.”

Smiling gratefully, Buffy nodded. More than anyone, he knew what she had gone through, what she was feeling now, and his forgiveness did not surprise her.

“Steven and I will go back to LA tonight,” he announced, changing the subject. “But we’ll be back in a week. I’m glad for you two, you know.”

“Really?” she couldn’t help questioning. “Not that long ago you hated the idea of Spike and me being together.”

Slowly, he nodded, and there was an apologetic look on his face.

“I was jealous,” he admitted quietly. “It’s hard to let go of someone I’ve loved so much. Even harder to let go of the two of you at the same time. But I’m sure you’ll take good care of each other.”

Buffy acquiesced silently, once more unsure of what to say. She only hoped the best for him, and she had a slight suspicion, if she could read Cordelia and him correctly when they were together, that he would be getting it.

* * * * *

Soft kisses pressed to the sensitive marks on her neck pulled Buffy out of her thoughts and she purred her appreciation at her Mate’s actions.

“Good morning, kitten”, he whispered just behind her ear.

“Your kitten,” she whispered back as she turned around to face him.

“Mine,” he agreed, and kissed her.

* * * * *

It was early in the afternoon, and Spike would have felt a lot better if his Childe and him hadn’t been in a place as exposed to the sunlight as the airport was. But they had both wanted to be there to say goodbye to the kid. He knew Buffy really liked the young Slayer, she had liked her from the beginning and Manon’s actions while Buffy had been soulless had only made the fondness grow. As for him, there was something he wanted to do. Maybe it was a stupid idea, love wasn’t something that could be commanded. But maybe it would work, and if it did then the kid would certainly be happier, and maybe safer.

She seemed a bit suspicious when he took her away from her Watcher, who was going with her, and the Scoobies who had come to say goodbye. Suspicious, and curious, too. Out of sight of them all, he stopped her and cupped her face in his hands. And hesitated. He had felt it was foolish of her to try to get rid of her love with a spell. Wasn’t he as foolish now?

“So, am I getting that kiss I asked for, after all?” she asked, but her tone made clear that she didn’t believe it was the case.

Smiling gently, he fixed his gaze to hers, and let his demon come close to the surface and do its part.

“No kiss, pet,” he said quietly. “Just a wish. I’d like you to go home and forget me. Don’t look at other vamps thinking that maybe they’re like me. The only way they are like me is that they will kill a Slayer if given the chance. You need to find yourself a human. A pretty thing like you, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble at all. And you’ll be happy like all kids your age should be. Alright Manon?”

She blinked several times, and as he let go of his hold on her, she nodded.

“They’re calling your plane,” Buffy’s voice said suddenly from behind him.

Manon gave a half smile at Spike, and mumbled a thanks and goodbye before walking past him and to Buffy. The older Slayer, she hugged, and promised to stay in touch with her. Then she joined Andrea, and soon they had disappeared. Spike watched Buffy curiously, wondering whether she had heard enough to understand what he had done. She returned his gaze thoughtfully, before finally asking:

“I thought you didn’t do thrall.”

“I don’t. Except when I don’t see another solution.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“I don’t know,” he replied as he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “It should. Unless she fights it really hard.”

It was in the kid’s hands, now. He had opened a door for her, and just hoped she wouldn’t close it.

* * * * *

As she went through her warming exercises, Chloe wasn’t really paying attention to Matt’s directives. They had been through this so often, she knew exactly what he would say and when, and could just let her thoughts wander. Which, right now, was good, because she had a lot to think about.

The Council of Watchers was now the New Council of Watchers, a name change that wasn’t really important in itself. What troubled her was that this institution, for which she had learned to have such a deep respect, was now headed by someone who wasn’t even a Watcher anymore only three days before. And it seemed to be turning everything around. Today, Manon had been sent home, and Chloe had been told that from now on she would train with the two vampires extensively every day until she had reached her maximum capabilities. These very same vampires that only a few days before she had been told she would probably have to slay. There was just something she didn’t get.

For years she had been warned about seeing vampires as anything but monsters. Buffy’s example had been told to her as a cautionary tale. A Slayer couldn’t accept the help of apparently friendly vampires, let alone have feelings for them, because they either turned bad and tried to kill her and her friends, or they got attached to her so much that they would rather turn her than let her die her normal death. Even when coming to Sunnydale, she had been instructed to be very cautious about the two resident vampires, especially Buffy since she had lost her soul, but also Spike, because he had never had one. And now, this. Train with them. Learn from them. Work beside them.

They had finally arrived, and Buffy joined her on the mat while Spike settled on the sofa, prompting her Watcher to immediately move out of his reach.

“Ready?” Buffy asked simply.

“Do I have a choice?” Chloe shot back, a little bitterly.

“Actually yes, you do,” the vampire replied with a frown. “Your Watcher didn’t explain that to you?”

Explain? Since when was a Watcher supposed to explain anything? Matt told her what to do, and she did it without wasting time with useless questions. Losing time only led to scurrying, which caused mistakes, which could be fatal.

“The Council pays us to teach you all we can so that you have the best odds to live a long life,” Buffy explained slowly, throwing a glare to Matt. “But if you do not want to train with us, you are free to say so and to return home. We can’t teach you if you don’t want to learn from us.”

Chloe gave a frown to her approaching Watcher.

“Matt? Is that true?”

A brief look of distaste crossed his features, and she knew instantly that the vampire was telling the truth.

“Technically, yes,” he admitted. “But it is more…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she interrupted him.

“Because I know you take your responsibilities seriously and…”

“This has nothing to do with responsibilities,” Buffy interjected. “It has to do with whether you can trust us enough to be comfortable patrolling and fighting by our sides, and sparring with us. If you don’t, you can still be a Slayer, just not in Sunnydale.”

“Is that why Manon went home?” Chloe asked. “It seemed to me like she trusted you too much.”

“Manon’s reasons are her own,” Buffy said impassively. “And so are yours. If you decide to go back to London, no one will frown on it or ask you why.”

As the blonde vampire said this, she gave a pointed look to Matt, and Chloe had the distinct impression that her Watcher would get in trouble with Rupert Giles. She considered Buffy for a moment, and then the other vampire who hadn’t moved from the sofa but was clearly listening attentively to everything that was being said. Could she trust them? They were demons, but the Watchers trusted them enough to think Slayers were safe with them. Could she believe that, which was against everything she had been taught so far? If she did manage to trust them, it would be because they would manage to prove themselves to her, and not because Watchers were telling her to. Not this time when her life was in the balance.

“I will stay here,” she announced carefully. “For now. And see whether I can learn from you or not.”

Buffy nodded, and gave her a warm smile. She seemed so different from the creature she had met just a few days ago, and who had talked about killing Manon and her as if it was nothing for her. It was really very strange. And confusing.

Chapter 48 - Nightmares and Fairy Tales

“Come on… Pleeeaase…”

“’Gonna come, that’s for sure…”

Heavy panting

“...but no.”

Hard thrust with the last word, feminine gasp in reply.

“Spike! Please!”

“’Thought I was pleasing you. Seems I gotta try better.”

Hands clutching at hips more forcefully. Relentless pounding. Then sharp intake of breath.

“Slayer… that’s cheating…”

Bodies rolling and reversing positions. Masculine gasp this time.

“Want me to stop the cheating?”

Eyelids fluttering at excruciating pleasure. Babbling.

“No, never, please, don’t stop luv please…”

Sudden roar, pale body arching up. Silent smile of feminine pride.

“So?”

Still joined bodies pressing against each other, hands caressing, softer than a butterfly wing. Panting slowly calming down.

“Anything you want, luv. Anything.”

* * * * *

Riley woke with a start, and immediately the feelings of disgust and self-loathing reappeared. He had tried not to fall asleep, tried very hard, for he had known that once he drifted off the dreams would come back. But he had fallen asleep anyway. And the dreams had returned. Or rather, it had been a new one. Every night, it was a new one. Each more disturbing than the last. All different, except for the same two characters and the always identical ending. And even more disturbing was the fact that he was getting off on every single one of them. Hence the self-loathing. He tried to fight the thrall, to fight the vampire’s hold on his nights, but without any hint of success so far. Every time he dozed off, it started again, like the vampire had predicted. What scared him senseless was the other thing that the blonde had said. Months before the thrall would wear off. Or even years. But he wouldn’t last one month like this. Not last and retain his sanity.

Trying to erase the vision that lingered in his mind, he forced himself to get out of bed and trudged to the bathroom. Mindlessly, he washed off the physical evidence of the effects that damned dream had had on him, blinking wildly in the harsh light. His gaze was on the mirror, but he didn’t see the soldier on extended leave, with his deep set eyes, ashen skin and haunted expression. What he saw was a woman he had loved, nude, chained to a bed, red whip marks marring her otherwise perfect skin, crying out loud her pleasure as a man he hated more than ever pounded into her.

* * * * *

Spike had hoped for some clouds to make his shopping errands easier, but no such luck, of course, and the sun was glaring over Sunnyhell. He couldn’t help worrying a little about Buffy. It probably was just as sunny in LA, and she was less used than him to going around under the scant protection of a blanket. At least, she had the cheerleader with her, so he trusted that, if nothing else, Cordelia could protect her from accidental sunburn.

His run from the car to the mall’s entrance didn’t go unnoticed, and some people looked at the smoldering blanket quizzically. But this was probably not the strangest thing most of them had ever seen, and soon no one was paying any attention to him any longer. Sometimes living on the Hellmouth had its perks.

First, he went in search of a jewelry store. It was kind of strange to actually wait on a salesperson instead of sticking his fist through the glass and taking whatever he fancied. Strange, and somewhat hilarious for the suspicious glances he attracted as he walked around the displays, hands thrust deep in his dusters pockets.

He had to visit four stores before he finally found something suitable. When he had asked Buffy to marry him, he had given her as an engagement ring what was usually the actual wedding ring. So for her wedding ring, he had just decided to get her what could have been an engagement one. He had no set idea about what he wanted for her, except that it had to be slaying-friendly. He didn’t want her to take it off every time they went on patrol because she was afraid to damage it. In the end, he settled on a design with three small diamonds and two emeralds alternated on a narrow band, encased in gold so that nothing protruded. The finely cut green stones reminded him of her eyes when they gleamed with happiness.

He paid cash for the ring, gave a few instructions, and went in search of the second thing with a resigned sigh. He had tried to charm his way out of the complete penguin look, but his Slayer had been inflexible, she wanted him in a tux and with every bloody thing that came with it. She was just a bossy little thing when she had her mind set on something. And, as ever, he was utterly whipped.

For Harris’ wedding, he had just done some window shopping, grabbing the first thing that had fell under his hand, and had been lucky that not only it had fit but also had looked good on him. But for his own wedding, he supposed it was better to play it safe and not rely on his luck too much. So he dutifully, but grudgingly, tried on a couple of bleeding costumes, and had an interesting time finding an excuse not to step in front of mirrors as the salesperson was suggesting. When he found something that suited him, he decided on buying over renting, just so he wouldn’t have to go through this hell again next time Buffy decided that he had to dress up – because he just had that dreadful feeling that there would be a next time.

The ring wasn’t ready yet, so he wandered through the mall, not really looking for anything, just trying to pass time. He had a few fifty dollars bills left, and after a while he decided that it would be a shame not to spend them.

One thing he had quickly learned about Buffy since living with her was that she loved to wear satin nightgowns about as much as he loved to take them off her. So it was for both of them that he bought a mid thigh, light blue one, as well as the translucent robe that went with it. The girl who rang his sale tried to flirt with him, asking coyly whether he needed someone to model for him, and he replied without thinking that his wife would do all the modeling he needed. The bint’s eyes shot to his left hand and the unadorned finger there, but she didn’t comment. He left the store amazed at how easily the word had rolled off his tongue, and how pleasantly nice it had felt. His wife.

As he was walking back toward the jewelry store, something else caught his eye in a window. The store was carrying various items, including a fairly good imitation of a suit of armor, several replicas of antique guns, a few Japanese-style swords, and a fair number of ornate knives. What he was interested in however was a long sword, a katana, remarkably unadorned amongst many flashy things. He went inside the store and asked to have a closer look at the weapon. Upon inspection, it felt remarkably comfortable in his hand, the hilt smooth and non slippery, the balance perfect, the edge razor sharp. Steven would just love it.

Now carrying too many awkward packages, the vampire went to get his lady’s ring. But after checking the engraving inside the band – You are my Soul - , as the clerk was putting the thing in a pretty box despite his assurance that it wasn’t necessary, he noticed the heavy man’s ring in a display. It looked oddly familiar, and it took him a few seconds to realize why. It had been a long time ago. Not exactly the same, but close enough. Silver, simple, with a round onyx stone. The other one had been a gift, which he had worn with pride for a few years, then as a cherished memento. It was now at the bottom of the Indian Ocean, where it had been resting for more than a century.

It was a bad idea, he was sure of it. He probably didn’t even have enough money left. Just a very bad, very stupid, and poncy idea. But after a few minutes of arguing with himself under the bemused gaze of the saleslady, he pulled out a few crumpled bills from his pockets, and was both annoyed and relieved to find that he did have enough, not only for the ring but also the engraving. Cursing himself, he bought it, gave his instructions, and settled down, fuming with himself, to wait for the bloody thing to be ready.

* * * * *

Eyeing the clouds suspiciously – Willow had promised it wouldn’t rain, but it did look like it soon would – Buffy followed Cordelia, Anya, and Dawn into yet another bridal store. Finding Spike’s ring had been easy enough, because she knew exactly what she wanted: the same design as hers, three rings interlocked to form one. But finding the perfect dress was proving more challenging. In the last couple of days, they had done all of Sunnydale’s bridal shops without finding anything – granted, it was only four of them. They had finally decided to come and try their luck in LA. Buffy could hardly believe that the wedding would only be the next night, and that she still didn’t have a gown.

Of course, she had an excuse. It was hard to choose when she couldn’t even see herself in whatever she tried on – and it was really a pain to explain to the sales attendants of each store that she couldn’t look at herself in a mirror because it was against her religious beliefs. So she had to trust the way the gowns looked on the rack and whatever her two friends and sister were telling her. It might have helped if all three of them hadn’t had a very different idea of what the perfect wedding gown was. Once more, Anya and Cordy went for opposite styles, while Dawn escaped to look at the bridesmaid’s part of the store, even though she had already found her attire.

Sighing as she walked around aimlessly, Buffy wondered what Spike was doing. Only a few hours away from him and she missed him already. And it would get worse until she saw him again in the chapel. It had been her idea, but now she was the one regretting it. She had told him that spending a day apart would make it even more special when they were at last reunited for their wedding, and he had protested that they had been apart more than enough while he was kidnapped. She had insisted, and he could so rarely refuse her anything that he had agreed, albeit reluctantly. What had she been…

Unneeded breath caught in her throat. She had found it.

On the dress stand in front of her was the gown she had been looking for without knowing what she wanted until she saw it. Off white satin silk embroidered in gold across the breast and down the front, silk brocade on the sides tied together with thin laces in the front and the back, short off the shoulders sleeves, completed with transparent chiffon that flowed down to the hands, and a train made of the same ethereal chiffon, so thin it was barely there.

Buffy was startled when Dawn’s hand rested on her arm.

“That’s it?” her sister asked softly.

She only nodded. Before she could even say more, Cordelia, Anya and a salesperson were around her. Soon, she was trying on the gown, delighted to find that it fitted her very well. For once they were all agreeing with her choice, and she just knew Spike would love it too, if for no other reason that it left his marks, on each side of her throat, completely uncovered for everyone to see.

* * * * *

“I’m bored!”

Lifting his gaze from the book he was trying to read, Angel rolled his eyes at his Childe’s renewed whining. He had been saying the same thing every few minutes ever since he had come back from his shopping trip, and Angel already regretted having offered the mansion as a prenuptial retreat. Certainly the blonde could have taken a room in a hotel and annoyed no one but his unfortunate neighbors.

“Come on, Peaches, let’s go patrol,” he tried to plead. “Innocents are in danger, it is our sacred…”

“Oh, do shut up!” the ex-vampire growled, disappointed by the effect of the sound coming from his human throat. “You are not patrolling and that’s the end of it. You’d find a way to get a black eye or something and Buffy would never let me hear the end of it.”

“You’re no fun.”

The blonde let himself fall into an armchair, pouting and his arms crossed.

“And you are nothing but a kid,” Angel retorted, his voice more annoyed than he actually felt.

He tried to return to his reading, but Spike’s tapping foot, just at the edge of his line of vision, was quite distracting. It wouldn’t be long now before the blonde complained again that he was bored. If it had been anyone else, he would have chalked up his edginess to getting cold feet. But, no, this was just a very regular and bored Spike. Some things just never changed.

There was something that might calm his overactive mood, but Angel wasn’t sure it was a good night for that. Could he allow himself to bring Spike’s thoughts to the past just a few hours before his wedding?

“What are you brooding about now?” came the obnoxious question.

“I am not brooding,” Angel replied automatically. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Nothing, reall…’

“Oh, come on, I’m bored, distract me.”

Well, since he was asking for it…

“Dru.”

Spike’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling, and his face suddenly lost all emotions.

“What about her?” he asked after a couple of seconds.

Too late now, Angel thought wryly, he might as well go on with it.

“I still have her ashes. I haven’t found the time to disperse them. Didn’t want to do it alone, either.”

For what seemed like an eternity, Spike remained immobile, his eyes still on Angel but clearly unfocused. When he finally moved and got to his feet, the brunette was sure that he was going to storm out, possibly to Willy’s, for a drink and a fight. That was how Spike used to work things out. But instead, he just stood there for a minute longer, before saying at last:

“Well, are we going or what? If we’re doing this we might as well get on the move before sunrise.”

* * * * *

What a bloody stupid idea for a vampire to own a convertible… Of course, the poof wasn’t a vampire anymore, but still. He had had the thing when he was a vamp, and Spike had thought it was stupid then, and still thought so now. Especially when thinking about anything was better than reflecting on what they were doing.

They had gotten in the car as soon as Angel had retrieved the wooden box from his room, and been on the road for a few minutes already when the brunette had finally inquired about where they should go. Spike had suggested the ocean, without explaining why. He didn’t need to. He was sure Angel remembered how Drusilla used to love going on boats. The movement of the sea always made her dreamy and happy, always made her babble about rocking, and lullabies, and her mother.

He had been angry with Angel at first for even just saying her name while all Spike could think of was Buffy, but it was fitting, after all, to do this tonight. A final goodbye. Fitting, also, that the moon and stars were all bright and clear above the ocean. Fitting that neither of them said a word as these few ounces of ashes were taken away by the slow waves. Fitting that they shared a cigarette, still in silence, remembering old memories of a woman they had both loved, although in very different ways.

Spike was the first to break the quiet, asking to borrow Angel’s cell phone. The brunette went to the car to retrieve it and handed out the device without a word before going for a stroll down the beach, leaving Spike alone.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Still sitting in the sand, Spike couldn’t help smiling at the annoyed tone of his Mate.

“No clue, luv. Were you asleep yet?”

There was a brief pause as she realized who was on the line, and her voice was much softer when she replied.

“No. I should be asleep and getting my beauty rest, but I miss you too much. Where are you?”

“Peaches was tired of hearing me complain so he took me for a ride. I’m by the ocean now.”

He could hear a soft little sigh. “’Wish I was with you,” she whispered.

“Me too, luv.”

Quiet pause. “Tell me a story?”

“What kind of story?”

“I don’t know. A fairy tale or something to help me sleep.”

A fairy tale… Not exactly his subject of predilection. He was much better at horror stories.

“Once upon a time, in a far away country, there was a prince…”

“And his name was William,” she cut in.

“Whose story is it, luv?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

“Alright. So there was a prince and, yes, he was called William. But you see this fair prince had been cursed long before by a nasty wizard and he had been blinded, in a very unusual way. He could go around, see any object or thing, and do things that people do, but he actually couldn’t see anyone. So he was going from country to country, trying to find a way to get his sight back, but without success for many, many years. And then one day, as he was exploring a new kingdom, he crossed paths with a princess. And to his big surprise, he could see her. She was the first person he had seen since he had been cursed, and he still couldn’t see anyone else, but he could see her, and he couldn’t take his eyes off her because she was so beautiful and luminous and brave and everything he had ever dreamed of. And her name was…”

“Buffy!”

“Nope. That wasn’t her name. She was called Slayer. But you see…”

“Slayer is not a name”, came the pouting protest.

“It is in my story,” Spike shot back, stifling a chuckle. “Can I keep on now? Or you want me to stop?”

“Keep on. But you’re mean.”

“Yes, I’m a mean old vampire that tells a fairy tale to the woman he loves instead of jumping into the car and going to shag her properly.”

She laughed quietly, and he resumed his story.

“So. The problem with Slayer was that she couldn’t see William. She could see everybody else very clearly, just not him. I guess she was cursed too. So she couldn’t see how the prince was following her, and helping her do little things for the kingdom. And some big ones too. He helped her to defeat a great wizard, the same one who had cursed him. And also a big nasty dragon that had bad fashion sense. And as he did these things, slowly he could start seeing the people around her. Her family and then her friends and then everyone. But still she couldn’t see him. So he did something very stupid. He chained her to a wall, thinking that she would have to see him eventually if he remained in front of her day and night. But it didn’t work, and she was just getting afraid of this person she couldn’t see. So he gave up. He decided to let her go, and to keep on as before, helping her, knowing that she had given him his sight back even if she never knew about him. And at the instant he freed her, she looked straight into his eyes and smiled, because she could see him now, and she was happy that someone as good looking…”

Soft chuckle on the other side of the line.

“…had come to rescue her from her invisible enemy. And so they married and lived happily ever after.”

There was a pause, and then Buffy said:

“So the princess marries William just because he is good looking? She sounds kinda fickle. “

“Yeah, well,” he defended himself, “what do you expect from someone called Slayer?”

She laughed quietly, and he was sure she was going to make some other comment, until she whispered:

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I love you. And not just for your good looks.”

“Love you too, baby,” he replied with a smile.

They had hung up for a few minutes already, long enough for Spike to smoke one more fag, when Angel finally came back. He had also had the time to slip the cell phone into Angel’s jacket in the car, along with the ring he had bought earlier.

Chapter 49 - With this Ring

Just for the heck of it, Giles sighed once more, loudly, but Anya remained oblivious, already striding with determination toward her husband on the other side of the church, undoubtedly to criticize in some manner his way of setting up the pillar candles and to re-explain her directives to him. At this time, Giles very much pitied the boy. Not that Xander was a boy anymore, but it seemed that Giles still couldn’t get used to the fact that all of these kids just weren’t kids anymore. Not even his Slayer. She was, after all, getting married in just a few hours.

And that was why he was there. The recently nominated Head Watcher of the New Council of Watchers had abandoned London for a couple of days to give his arm to his surrogate daughter as she walked toward the man who owned her heart. Except that, right now, he was doing something else altogether. Namely, tying pale golden bows and white flowers to the side of each bench, as per the instructions of ex-vengeance demon and self-proclaimed dictator Anya Harris.

“Giles! Get to work, already! We’re running behind schedule!”

Which proved, if there was any need, that being Head Watcher had changed absolutely nothing as far as the Scoobies were concerned. Not that he had wanted anything to change, but still… a little consideration, at least for his age… not that he was old, far from it…

Another sigh, and he got to the tying and arranging of the ribbons and flowers, trying very much to do exactly as Anya had commanded so that she wouldn’t complain about his work again. Why had he agreed to lend a hand in the first place? It might have been the pleading look Xander had given him, although that same look should have warned him that he ought to be suspicious. Or it might have been the fact that he needed some distraction. He wished Andrea had come back with him. She had resigned from her position as Manon’s Watcher, officially because she wanted to dedicate herself to the study of some new books the Council had recently acquired, but unofficially so that she could be in London. With him. But when it had come to this short trip back to California, she had declined to accompany him. The two vampires had invited her, but she seemed to still feel uncomfortable in their presence, and had admitted to him she felt somewhat guilty that her own father had done such a horrible thing to Buffy. Hopefully, she would soon understand that no one bore any bad feelings towards her. Even if Spike had been a little cold at the beginning, the vampire had admitted that she wasn’t responsible.

There. One side of the aisle all done. Now, the other side. At this point, Giles was very grateful, though still somewhat puzzled, that his two favorite vamps had chosen to get married in a small chapel.

There was noise at the church’s door, and Giles straightened to see Steven stride in, hands in his pockets, unaware of the hell he was walking into.

“You’re late,” Anya informed the young man sternly. “Now grab a spool of ribbon and come here.”

Giles shook his head and returned to his task before Anya noticed he had stopped working.

* * * * *

Buffy didn’t really need Dawn, Tara, and Willow to help her get ready, but it was nice to be pampered so, and they actually looked like they enjoyed themselves, so she let them do her nails and hair as they all chatted happily. She had expected to be nervous, but as the afternoon wore on and the time came closer, she found that she wasn’t. Impatient to see Spike, impatient to have him see her, impatient to be able to call him her husband, but, surprisingly, not nervous in the slightest. Why would she have been?

She had been a little surprised by his call the night before. She had expected him to give up on the not-seeing-each-other-until-the-wedding thing, and truthfully had been a little disappointed that he hadn’t come back to her, but she hadn’t expected him to call. It had been a very nice gift, however, to hear his voice just as his absence was preventing her from finding sleep. Very nice to simply hear him talk, with the quiet counterpoint of the ocean behind him, and after saying goodbye she had finally been able to drift into sleep.

And now, soon, very soon, she would walk to him.

Anya finally came back, complaining profusely about the decorating capabilities of the male gender and its incapacity to follow simple directives, before finally acknowledging that, yes, the church was ready, and no, there was no real problem. She was already dressed up, and so were Willow and Tara, so they all insisted on helping her slide her gown on, tie the laces, and give a last brush to her slightly curled hair. Dawn joked a little, when she came back in her pretty blue dress, that she had needed no one to help her. And then they were all walking downstairs, under the slightly teary gaze of Giles and the appreciative one of Xander. A limo was waiting, courtesy of the Council, and they were on their way, Buffy now oblivious to the chattering around her.

As the car stopped, she wanted to rush out and to him, feeling him so close now, but Anya reminded her she had to wait for everyone to be in place, and particularly the official photographer, who was no other than Xander. The last few seconds, waiting outside with Dawn and Giles, were the longest of Buffy’s existence. At last, it was time. Dawn checked her one last time, flowers, dress, veil, gave her a smile and stepped in. Warm lips on her forehead startled her a little, but she returned Giles grin and squeezed his hand gently as he took hers to rest it on his arm.

One part of her was aware of the people looking at her as she walked through the chapel, and she quite well knew they were all her friends. She was certain also that she could feel her mother’s presence too, and almost looked around for her, but she didn’t. Because right now her eyes were on the man standing, oh so lonely, by the end of the aisle, waiting for her. Her Sire and Mate, and soon to be husband.

* * * * *

“Would you stop fidgeting already?” Angel repeated once more, clearly exasperated.

“You’re strangling me, you bloody poof.”

Escaping his Sire’s clutches, Spike pulled on the too tight tie, loosening it slightly. Angel had always had that nasty habit of insisting on tying the thing for him, as if he wasn’t capable of doing so himself.

“You don’t need to breathe,” Angel said blankly, “so how could I possibly strangle you? Please explain that to me, because at this second I very much want to do so.”

Spike rolled his eyes at him. The ex-vampire was quite possibly more agitated than him, and he was the one getting married in half an hour now, not Angel. Almost worse than Anya. Or maybe not, because Steven had given an interesting account of his decorating mission as he came to the mansion to get changed.

“And who will pull you out of Buffy’s hands when I’m not here to save you?” the vampire replied with a smug smirk.

Angel shook his head and sighed, before passing a hand through his hair. Spike’s smirk softened slightly at the glimpse of silver on his little finger. He hadn’t said a word about it, but he was wearing it. Or maybe the first words he had said when Spike had came to the kitchen for lunch – calling him Childe – had been an acknowledgment to the simple word engraved on the inside of the band. Sire.

Eventually, Angel calmed down, Steven got dressed, and they were at last on the way to the church. It was mostly empty when they arrived there, except for the new Slayer and her Watcher on the very last row, the priest, who greeted Spike with a warm handshake, and Clem who waved at him as he walked by. The demon was quite simply one of the very few creatures Spike trusted, although because of his somewhat loose tongue he didn’t know about Buffy’s vampireness, and the only non-Scooby invited, apart from Chloe and Matt.

The vampire had to admit that, whatever her methods and apparent bitchiness, Anya, and whoever she had enslaved, had done a nice job. Tall and thick candles lined up the walls every foot or so, casting dancing shadows all over a church tastefully decorated in gold and silver. At the end of the aisle, a sumptuous bouquet was the only touch of color, simple and exotic flowers in every shade of the rainbow mixed harmoniously, in front of the white background that a sheet draped over the cross provided.

Angel slipped into a row, and almost immediately the cheerleader was taking the empty spot next to him. The girl and her apparitions were becoming a tad annoying. But there definitely was something going on there.

Just as Spike and Steven were settling on their assigned spots, there was noise behind them and Spike turned around to see the Witches come in, followed by Xander and then Anya. As everybody was in place, the ex-demon gave an approving nod at the assembly and turned on the music before taking her seat. Dawn walked in, and Spike barely had the time to tell himself that she was radiant before Buffy appeared, and everything, everyone else faded. She came to him with the most beautiful smile she had ever offered him, and he was suddenly glad he didn’t need to remember to breathe. She was simply gorgeous. And she was his.

* * * * *

She watched her walk by her father’s side – because yes, Rupert Giles was more of a father to her than Hank Summers – and felt an incredible surge of pride at how beautiful Buffy was. Not just because of the dress, although the dress was indeed beautiful, but because of the quiet peace that radiated from her, lighting her features, making her positively glow. It was nice to see her so blissful. She couldn’t remember the last time she had seen such a look on her face. If she ever had.

Abandoning the bride for a second, she swept a loving gaze on the bridesmaid, who had nothing to envy to her sister, before turning her attention to the groom. He, too, looked happier than she had ever seen him. But then, had she ever seen him happy? Truly happy? She had seen him smile, heard him laugh, but she doubted he was happy, then. He needed someone by his side to really be, someone to care for and who could care for him. Just as Buffy did. So much for the Big Bad image.

They stood together, now, and by the looks they shared she wasn’t sure they were hearing what the priest was saying. That was kind of a surprise, the church and priest. Buffy had never been very religious, even before being turned, and Spike wasn’t any more than any regular vampire. But they weren’t that regular, were they?

Oh, they must have been paying attention, after all, because it was time for the vows and they went through smoothly. Spike spoke first, and his quiet voice was brimming with emotion as he made the most touching promise to his bride. His hands were slightly shaking, she was sure of it, when he took Buffy’s hand and slid the ring on her finger before bringing it to his lips. And then it was Buffy’s turn, and the warmth and light in her eyes and smile as she made her vows could have burned her new husband to ashes. Another ring gliding on pale skin, then she repeated his gesture and brought his hand to her lips. A few more words from the priest, during which their eyes remained locked, and they were kissing, the tenderest kiss she had ever seen.

Already, it was over, already they were leaving, followed by the whole gang. She was happy Buffy had such a family around her. As Cordelia walked by, she caught her gaze and gave her a quiet thank you for allowing her to witness this. The angel winked at her, and she left this world, returning to the one that was now hers, satisfied and proud as only a mother could be.

Chapter 50 - Epilogue

Buffy opened the storage box for the first time in a good century, maybe even more than that, and couldn’t help smiling at the memories that instantly came back to her. Memories of her friends and family, of a beautiful night, and of the look on Spike’s face when she had walked down the aisle, when she had called him her husband for the first time. Gently, she removed the soft paper that wrapped the garment and revealed the dress. Her hand lingered a little on the fabric, following the embroidery with a finger, then the laces, and she finally pulled it out of the box and held it in front of her.

“So, what do you think, girls?” she asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“It’s way outdated,” Aurore commented with a little frown and all the fashion consciousness of a teenager. “But, OK, it’s beautiful.”

“You look like a princess, mommy,” Sandra added with her brightest smile.

Buffy turned to face the long mirror, smoothing the dress unconsciously as she held it to her body. The first time she had worn it, she hadn’t been able to see what she looked like in it until after the wedding pictures were developed, and had had to rely on her gut feeling and her friends’ opinion. She wished they could have been there this time again, but they were all long gone, except for Cordy, of course, who had promised she would come. It was alright, however, because Spike and she wouldn’t be alone to renew their vows. Their children would be there.

Their anniversary was in two days, and they had just decided to do something big about it. Well, she had been subtly hinting at it for a little while, and Spike had finally gotten the message. It had surprised her a little, because only three weeks before he had needed no reminder about the anniversary of their Mating. But he had easily agreed to renewing their vows, and she knew it wasn’t just to please her. And if they were going to do this, there was only one place possible.

They had flown back to Sunnydale. The town had changed a lot, after all many years had passed. The house on Revello was long gone, but the mansion was still there, if a bit dusty. It was just one of their many homes, but it hosted the most memories, as well as many mementos, including Buffy’s wedding dress. Carefully preserved, it was still in perfect condition, and Buffy’s only fear was that, since she had gained a few curves during her pregnancies, the dress wouldn’t fit. It was time to know for sure.

Her daughters helped her slip the gown on, and she held her breath while Aurore gently tugged the zipper up and did the back laces. It was definitely a tighter fit than she remembered it, but comfortable enough to wear.

“It’s even more beautiful on you,” the eldest of her daughters murmured, and by the look of awe on her face all thoughts of outdated fashion had fled her mind.

“Do we get to be princesses too?” Sandra inquired as Buffy was carefully taking the gown off.

“Yes darling,” Buffy answered her with a smile. “As soon as your dad comes back with Will and the twins we will go find you some pretty things to wear.”

It was almost surreal to be back here, with Spike and their children, after so much time had passed, after so many things had changed. Sunnydale had stopped being home to her when the last of her friends had fallen to age, and they hadn’t returned many times, never since they had been turned human again. The world was their playground, as it was the kids’. But now that she was here, it almost felt to Buffy like she had never left completely, like she had come home, at last. Maybe because it was where most of her old family was buried. Maybe because it was where she had been reborn. Maybe because of the memories.

But then again, simply being with Spike and the kids was being home.

* * * * *

It was strange, very strange, for Spike to walk around Sunnyhell in broad daylight, and even more to do some with three of his children. They hadn’t come back to the town since before they had been made human again, already more than twenty years, and yet it seemed like yesterday that he and his Childe had been prowling the town’s nights, making them a little safer for ordinary people. Many things had changed, and he only hoped, with all his heart and soul, that at least one of them would be the same. He knew Buffy would be disappointed if they couldn’t do the ceremony in the same place as a century and half before, and, to tell the truth, so would he.

“It seems like a quiet little town,” William commented, the question clear in his voice.

“It is,” Spike replied with a grin. “But it was something else when the mouth was active.”

Will nodded, and they kept it at that. They were both carrying one of the twins, and the little angels certainly didn’t need to start hearing about Hellmouths and demons at barely more than two years of age.

“You’re sure you know where we’re going?”

“Yes I do,” Spike assured his eldest, slightly amused. “I may be getting old but I haven’t completely lost my mind yet.”

They crossed a street, and Spike let out a quiet sigh as the building he had been hoping for was revealed to his sight. It seemed in good shape, he reflected as they came closer. Time had left a few marks, but nothing too bad.

“Is that it?” Will asked as they came to a stop in front of the ancient church.

Spike only nodded as memories flooded his mind, not all of them happy, not all of them from their wedding day. He put Elisabeth down and, her small hand held tight in his, pushed the heavy wood door open and slipped in, soon followed by his son who still had a sleeping Anne in his arms. The inside of the church was as he remembered it. The pews, maybe, weren’t the same, but other than that, nothing had changed. There was still that large wood and metal cross at the end of the aisle, which he could now look at without an inner demon flinching. There were a few votive candles burning, proof that the place wasn’t abandoned, as he had feared it would be.

“I don’t see what’s so remarkable about the place that we had to come all this way just for it.”

“It’s hard to explain,” Spike murmured. “When you grow old, I suppose you get attached to some memories, and to some of the places where you’ve taken important steps in your life.”

“I still want to know what va… what you and mom were doing in a church to begin with.”

There was a hint of amusement in the young man’s voice and Spike turned to look at him, unsurprised at the smirk and raised eyebrow he found on his face.

“You’re even worse than your old father,” Spike chuckled lightly. “Mind out of the gutter, would you?”

Hazel eyes sparkled with mirth as Will’s smile widened a little more. “If you say so,” he replied, obviously unconvinced. “So, the place is still here, what do we do now?”

“You keep an eye on your sisters, and I go look for someone to marry me again to the most wonderful woman I ever knew.”

Will sat down on a pew, Anne still cradled against his chest, Elisabeth playing peek-a-boo from behind the pew in front of him, and Spike went toward the door he remembered led to the office on the side of the building. Before knocking, he glanced back to his children, the first-born and the last two, and marveled once more at the extraordinary events that had made it possible for a vampire to redeem his tainted soul and be granted a second chance at life with the woman he loved more than his own existence. The Powers had played with him, alright, as they had with Buffy, as they had started to do with Will, as they would undoubtedly do with the girls. But in the end, it had been worth it, there was no denying it. He only hoped he still had many years in front of him to live by his Slayer’s side and see their children grow up before came the time to die his final death.

Right now, however, it wasn’t the time or place for gloomy thoughts. It was time to celebrate life and love.

 

~Fin~