Chapter 4

"Ain't this a bitch," Faith said humorlessly before pushing herself from the table.

The remaining six Scoobies gave her a cursory glance before returning their attention to the bespectacled Watcher.

Xander was the first to speak. "Mind runnin' that by us again, G-man. For a minute there, I could've sworn that you said that sacrificing Dawn would prevent the apocalypse."

"That is what he said, Xander," Anya replied, though her tone was subdued.

Giles had gathered the courage to look Buffy in the eye and immediately wanted to turn away from her piercing gaze.

"Giles," was all she said but in it contained every emotion she was feeling. Fear. Anger. Confusion. Sorrow and despair. Resent. And the emotion that had Giles wanting nothing more than to scurry into the nearest crack and die.

Betrayal.

Buffy had seen the hurt in her former Watcher's eyes when he had looked up at her but at the moment, the only thing she could think of was how the man that had been like a father to her could do this. In truth, she knew he was only dispatching information, thus not guilty in the slightest but the slayer was not in a world of rational thought as she envisioned Dawn up on the tower-- her stomach sliced open as her blood opened the portal. Giles had said that the only way to close it was Dawn's blood but there had been another way and the resilient slayer had found it. She was thankful of that, at least, for her friends because if her epiphany had not come, then they all would have died. She knew it was selfish, but she would not have sacrificed Dawn.

Was now any different?

"Buffy," Giles pled as he reached out to her but quickly pulled back when the feral growl of the vampire kneeling at her side rumbled through the air. Giles risked a glance at the platinum blond and was unable to hide his apprehension at the ferocity reflected in the vampire's eyes. It had been quite awhile since Rupert Giles had been afraid of Spike, but now, as he watched flecks of gold dance behind icy blue eyes, the former Watcher knew fear.

"So, Rupes," Spike said almost cheerfully though no one missed the acidity liquefying his words. "What you are sayin' here--and make sure to correct me if I get anything wrong--is that the only way to stop this coming apocalypse is to merge my Nibblet with some First Evil bitch so that they can become one? Does that suss it all up?" he finished sarcastically.

"Look Spike," Giles reasoned, "I know how…"

"Don’t. You. Fuckin'. Say. It." The vampire ground out, his features morphing between human and vampire. "You know how I feel? Has the Council of Wankers' arrogance rubbed off on you while you were visitin' them in Merry Old England? How I feel?" He reiterated and motioned get up before a gentle squeeze on his shoulder tempered the demon fighting to emerge.

"Spike," Buffy said and, though her tone was clipped, the vampire understood the underlying affection she had spoken with.

"Sorry, luv," he acquiesced but not before hurling one last glare at the Watcher.

"Buffy," Giles began anew, "I am so sorry that I had to tell you like…"

"There's another way," she said, cutting him off.

"There is?" Willow asked, speaking up for the first time. The emptiness she felt when Giles told them what was to happen was all consuming and shock was what had staved off tears. All she could think of was how Dawn always seemed to be the target of some big evil's plan of world domination--but this was different. According to Giles, the only way to save the world was to actually allow the ritual to take place that, in and of itself, was a first. The feeling of helplessness was almost too much for Willow as she thought of her surrogate little sister but the overwhelming weight was shifted when the loving arms of Tara encircled her waist. Willow had leaned into her lover and listened as the Wicca whispered words of encouragement to the red head and all she wanted to do was give that same hope to the others.

"I mean, there is," Willow backtracked. "There has to be. I mean, we are the Scoobies; we always find a way," she capped off the last statement with a gentle squeeze of Buffy's shoulder and the slayer relaxed visibly.

"Willow's right, Giles," Buffy said with confidence. The constant contact with Spike and the gentle assurance of her best friend had given the slayer faith where little had been just a few minutes ago.

"There has to be another way," she held a hand up when the Brit moved to speak, "Look, I know what the scrolls or whatever say, but haven't they said that before? We always find a way around the rules. Hell, we are the masters of circumventing prophecies. What's so different about this one?" She glanced down at Spike who returned her look with a loving smile as his fingers entwining her hand squeezed hers lovingly.

Giles didn’t know what to say to the family before him. How did he tell them what they did not want to hear? Hell, he had heard--rather read--it loud and clear and it had been the last thing that he wanted to hear. In fact, he had spent the last month tirelessly researching any possible contingencies that could perhaps divert the words written on the scroll to no avail. When it looked as if he had found one alternative to combat it, he would only find it negated upon rereading the prophecy. It had been like that each time and it hadn't been until two days ago, when the scroll thrummed with an unexpected green energy that he had given up his search for an answer. He was powerless to stop it, they all were. But he had known that it would be better that they at least be prepared for it. And this was not something one discussed over the phone.

"Believe me Buffy," Giles drawled tiredly. It was as if the last month and his subsequent transatlantic flight had pounced on him simultaneously and his eyes burned from lack of sleep. But sleep was often an unheralded luxury in his profession, and so he trudged forward dutifully. "I have spent the last month combing over the Watchers Chronicles in search for a portent that could possibly shed light on circumventing this. My efforts, however tireless in their diligence, were fruitless nonetheless.

"Buffy," he tentatively reached for her hand and was relieved when she allowed him to take it. He purposefully ignored the derisive snort that rumbled from Spike's throat. "Buffy, you know how much Dawn means to me and you must know that there is nothing I wouldn’t do for her."

"But you would have sacrificed her on the tower," she accused and immediately regretted her words. She saw as her pseudo-father's face fell and his eyes misted before the staunch control coursing through him clamped off the emotional response.

"Yes, I would have," he admitted emotionlessly though she could see his tight jaw convulse under the pressure he ground it with. "I would have sacrificed her for the lives of the billions of people in this world--so that they wouldn’t have been drawn into that hell and faced unimaginable torment. And," he removed his glasses and set them on the table, "despite the resolution of those circumstances, despite the fact that I did not have to give your sister's life to save the world, I do have to live with it. I have to live with the knowledge of what I would have done, if necessary, no matter the personal costs, as it was a duty I had sworn to uphold. And I am reminded of that every time I see her laugh or cry or pout like only a stubborn-hormonally-charged teenager can. I will always live with that guilt and no matter how things turn out, no matter how much of a happy ending we all get, I will always carry that around inside of me. And you cannot possibly know the ache I feel," he placed a hand over his heart, "here every minute of every waking day."

Buffy, blown away by her mentor's confession and, feeling like the ultimate bitch dropped her eyes in shame. She knew she had always had a habit of 'shooting the messenger' and never believing that said messenger cared anything about the severity of the news he or she dealt. She had reacted accordingly on instinct after Giles' explained the prophecy to them, never taking into consideration that this was just as hard on him as it was on her, yet he was more refined in hiding his pain.

"Giles, I…" she began but was silenced by a curt wave of the Watcher's hand.

"That's not important. The only reason I shared that with you was ensure there is no doubt in your mind as to where my loyalties lie, Buffy." His eyes softened somewhat before he continued. "Buffy, understand that I love Dawn as I love you. Though I may not always express it, she is like a daughter to me and I would do anything for her…"

"Except this, it seems," Spike muttered. Giles flicked a glance the vampire's way and decided to ignore him. He had seen firsthand the bond between the Key and the vampire the summer Buffy was gone and realized that any course of action that didn’t start with 'We save Dawn by…' would receive a more than unwelcome response from the blond.

"There has to be a way, Giles," Buffy whimpered as the tears threatened to spill once more. "You can't expect me to choose between saving Dawn and saving the world. I can't do it."

"S'alright, pet," Spike soothed and ran his knuckles gently up and down the slayer's face. Her ragged breathing began to slow and she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply several times. While her eyes were closed, Buffy reached up for the hand caressing her face and intertwined her fingers with the cool, slender digits of her vampire lover. Finally, she opened her eyes and looked at him gratefully. She nodded once and Spike returned the gesture before focusing back on the Watcher.

"Look, Rupes," he started, the malice from before all but gone and in its place was a resigned yet determined weariness. "Emotions are runnin' a mite bit high here and we may very well spout out some things we don’t mean," Giles nodded stoically, knowing that this was probably the closest thing to an apology he would ever receive from the vampire.

"What I'm sayin' Watcher, is that maybe with a bit o' creative problem solving, we could take a look at those prophecies of yours and we can see what we can see."

Giles listened to the vampire before placing his glasses back on. "Spike, I understand your anxiety at the situation, but I assure you, I have scavenged these scrolls nonstop for the past month without finding a single that could possibly help us. The prophecy is quite clear in that only by the Enjoining of the Light and the Dark, will our reality be saved."

Spike's jaw clinched and the grating of his teeth was heard throughout the store. Everyone winced, mentally preparing for the vampire to fly off the handle again, to rip and roar about the incompetence of the Watcher and they were naturally taken aback when he smiled, albeit blatantly false in its sincerity.

"I understand that, Rupert, but what you may not understand is that your research, though diligent, has crippled you. Before you get your knickers in a twist, listen. You've been at this a month, no?" On Giles' nod, he continued. "When was the last time you have seen something you haven't noticed before, read between the lines if you will? Would I be correct in assuming at least a week?"

"Two, actually," the Brit conceded.

"Now is it also correct to assume that you know every inch of that text like your flat?" Giles' nodded warily, unsure where this was headed.

The other Scoobies watched intently, amazed at the surprisingly calm, if not confusing, point their former mortal enemy was in the process of formulating. They had never known Spike to react with his intelligence as he so often was driven by his passions and it was both his greatest strength as well as his most glaring weakness. The more they listened, the more they were thankful for the passions that drove him because if he had only used his obvious intelligence more diligently, then he might have buried them all long ago.

"The thing is, Rupes," he said almost cheerily, his accent had switched from the stiff-upper crust at the start of his speech back to the cockney accent they had become used to. It was a signal to the listeners that he was gaining confidence in what he was saying. "knowin' something so well ain't always an asset."

"Not to interrupt this highly entertaining and thoroughly confusing rant," Xander chimed in, his hand raised, "but since when is not knowing something of the bad?"

"That’s easy," Anya chirped. "See, when you get to know someone or something intimately," she shrunk back slightly at their warning glares, "or not intimately, if you don’t vary things, spice stuff up, you may start to grow tired of it. Now, maybe your boredom will be wiped away if that thing changes drastically. But how many people do that? And why? I mean, wouldn’t you fall out of love with them if they did since they aren't the same person you fell in love with in the first place?"

They all listened intently, ready to cut her off at the first mention of 'orgasm', though she had managed to at least temporarily banish it from her vocabulary. Spike was the only one that smiled, as he knew that she understood what he was trying to say, and instead of interrupting her, the master vampire remained silent, content on her making his point for him.

"What usually happens is that minor changes occur say, for instance, I start using a different conditioner or cut my hair half an inch," she glared at Xander before returning back to the others, not giving him time to speak. "But if you are so familiar with someone, often those subtleties are overlooked. But someone not as familiar like, say Willow, will see that I did indeed cut my hair and change to a more moisturizing and natural conditioner while my husband-to-be doesn’t notice as he is so caught up in his comic books." She crossed her arms and again shot a surly glare at her fiancé who opened his mouth to plead his case only to be cut off by a soft applause.

"And a Cupie Doll for the lady," Spike gushed, his angular features split by an enticing grin. "By the way, luv," he said to Anya, "love the Herbal Essence." The comment had its desired effect and the ex-vengeance demon beamed.

"Thank you," Anya offered, "at least somebody pays attention to detail," she flamed and flicked a bang to the side when Xander tried a peace-offering kiss.

"So what my platinum boy here is saying, Giles," Buffy chimed in, "is that you are too close to this right now." She graced her lover with an appreciative smile before addressing her former-mentor.

"What we need, and what we have now are seven fresh pair of eyes that have yet to form any conclusions on what they have already seen. Couple that with the fact that we have a thousand year old ex-demon, two researching Wiccas and a century old vampire (even if he happens to sometimes shows the maturity of a seven-year-old)," she jibed and smiled at Spike's indignant snort, "and we have more than a fair shot of finding something you may have overlooked."

Giles contemplatively massaged his forehead, astounded by the fortitude of his family. But the more he thought about it, the more his surprise waned. They had always possessed a particular determination that was not learned, yet a part of them naturally. No, he was not really surprised with their resolve, yet he was disappointed in his own haughty assumptions that they could offer no further assistance with the text.

"You do have a point," the Watcher conceded, "I apologize to you all for not taking into account your resourcefulness earlier."

"It's okay, Giles," Buffy reassured. "We forgive you. We know that in your old age, things have a tendency to slip your informationally-overloaded cranium." Giles had to smile at the strong woman before him. Not five minutes ago, she appeared to be heading for a total collapse but she had bounced back with the same resilience she had shown over their six years together. It was a strength not born of her slayer abilities but a foundation of character he had not seen in all his years of experience. He surmised that she did not know that she possessed such a commanding authority within her, though the Watcher had to begrudgingly admit that Spike appeared to notice it as well. In fact, it was quite peculiar that Spike seemed to know the exact words or actions to draw forth Buffy's hidden potential. It was something that garnered further investigation.

"So," Faith said as she rejoined the circle of allies around the table, "whose for coffee?"

***

***

Four hours and several stacks of notes later, the Scoobies were no closer to finding a solution. Giles had been correct in that there was nothing in the writing that told of a way to prevent the manifestation of the prophecy without dropping the apocalypse straight into their laps.

One thing that Giles had not expected, however, was the wealth of knowledge that resided in Faith. She told them the things Emerald had said to her as well as some of the prophecies concerning Gabriel and his ushering forth of Armageddon.

"So you believe that Dawn in your time was also merged with The First?" Giles asked.

Faith nodded. " 'S the only explanation. I mean, for my first eight years she was like any other aunt with me. But then she started to change."

"Her personality?" Buffy asked.

"Yeah. Sometimes she was the same Auntie Dawn while other times she was just a stranger wearing my aunt's body. Everyone was concerned about her and she always insisted that nothing was wrong. But we knew," everyone watched as the young woman's eyes clouded over, tears on the brink of spilling. Faith roughly ran the back of her hand across her eyes and coughed purposefully to remove the ache in her throat.

"And then, not two weeks after my tenth birthday…she disappeared. I didn’t see her again for thirteen years."

After Faith's last words, the group could only stare blankly at the papers in front of them. Buffy was both relieved and disturbed at the news Faith shared. True, she had heard some of it earlier, but now it actually gave her hope. On the one hand, she had thought she would lose Dawn to the ritual but Faith's retelling of the future comforted Buffy. Dawn would remain at her sister's side for forty year although, ultimately, she would be lost. Buffy felt herself being torn both ways. She could either prevent the First from completing the ritual and hope for the best, or she could allow the ritual to be completed and spend the next forty years attempting to change history. She had hope that it might work considering how Faith had told her earlier that Dawn had refused harm to come to her sister. Not only that, but she had also assisted Faith in getting here which meant that the Dawn Buffy had loved as a sister was still in there.

"We have to choose," Buffy said, catching everyone by surprise.

"Choose?" Xander asked and ran a hand through his hair. "Choose what, Buffy? I don’t mean to be Mr. Rockin'-the-Boat here, but it doesn’t seem like we have too many choices--at last count we had…one."

"No, Xander," Buffy replied, her voice resigned and filled with weariness, "we have two. We can either let the ritual commence and the Enjoining be completed…or, we can stop it and pray that the texts are wrong."

"You…you know, I'm usually all for choices," Willow offered, "big ra-ra for choices, but Buffy…those really aren't choices."

Buffy sighed. "It's the only thing we've got."

"Well…ma…maybe Giles is right," Tara said hopefully.

"Yeah, Glinda?" Spike asked sarcastically. "And how did you come to that conclusion?"

Tara winced noticeably at the vampire's sardonic attitude and Spike sighed in annoyance--not at Tara but at himself.

"Sorry, Tara," he said and she was surprised at hearing him use her first name. " 'S just that everything's gettin' to me. Don’t mind the Midol-needin' vamp over here." The vampire's honesty at thinning nerves caught the group off guard and everyone realized just how much he truly cared for Dawn. But his last comment spurned a most necessary release of tension in the form of muffled laughter.

After a few minutes everyone, including Giles, wiped the tears from their eyes and Spike huffed, feigning displeasure at being the focal point of their laughter.

"Well, I'm bloody well glad you all 'ave gotten your gigglies under control," this only started the women into another binge of laughter while Giles and Xander held it in as best they could.

"Well Spike," Xander quipped, still rubbing the tears from his eyes, "if you go all homicidal on us again we are in trouble now that you know our weakness."

Spike gave the brunette a vicious smirk before turning to Buffy, "Doesn’t matter anyway. You know my weakness."

Buffy blushed at Spike's obvious suggestions and focused her attention back to Tara. "Sorry, Tara, we got kinda outta hand there. What did you have in mind?"
"Well," she began timidly, "Da…the Dawn from Faith's time went through a good forty years before the Evil inside her took its full effect." She looked to Faith for confirmation. The future slayer responded by touching her nose and pointing her finger at the Wicca.

Smiling, Tara continued, "If…if it took her that long to be corrupted, wouldn’t it make sense to believe that, now that we know what's wrong with her, we could continue to keep her from letting it overtake her?"

"Assuming," Giles answered, "that things remained as they were. However, considering that Faith here has come into our company, it is doubtful that other things wouldn’t change as well. For all we know, Dawn could be completely taken over by the completion of the ritual or she could remain herself indefinitely. Either way, I would hesitate to put credence in the notion that things will play out in the exact sequence as Faith is familiar with."

"So what are you saying?" Buffy snorted and it was obvious that she was again reaching the end of her tether. A deep pang of sympathy echoed in Giles' chest as he studied the world-weary eyes of his slayer. Barely twenty-one, she had already died twice, averted seven apocalypses--including one where she was fated to send her lover to hell. It had almost destroyed her and he had thought that, sometime last year, that wound was finally beginning to heal. It was torn away, however, by the sudden death of her mother and the battles with Glory. She had known that if Glory opened the portal, she would have to sacrifice Dawn but she had found another way-jumping through the portal herself instead. Now, she was faced with the same thing; let Dawn be taken and merged with Evil itself or stop it and allow the world to fall into utter chaos. It was not a decision to be made lightly and, despite what he knew had to be done, Giles was going to leave everything up to Buffy.

"What I'm saying Buffy is that," he inhaled sharply before continuing. "The decision is yours."

"Decision?" She blared incredulously. "You know I was being sarcastic when I said we had two choices to make, don’t you? This is not a decision. It’s like a vampire choosing to be staked or decapitated-not much room for happy results."

"Giles," Buffy pled, the tears again coursing down her face, "how am I supposed to choose?"

"Buffy, it won’t be easy. In fact, it will be the most difficult thing you have ever had to do. But I know you can do it. As impossible as it may seem, I know you will make the right choice." Giles uncharacteristically wrung his hands as he stared into her large hazel eyes. He could see the agony eating away at her but he could not interfere. He had left so that she could grow on her own, make the difficult choices and while this particular situation wasn’t what he had had in mind, he still aimed for her to make due with it.

Giles caught a flash of…something in the slayer’s eyes before they dimmed. He knew then that she had made her decision and, as much as it would destroy her, she was willing to sacrifice herself.

"Buffy," the Watcher soothed and reached out to her. She pulled away and rose to her feet, knocking her chair away, startling the onlookers.

"Don’t touch me," she spat and Giles was crushed by the contempt in her eyes and the betrayal lacing her tone. "Don’t you ever touch me." She stumbled out of the Magic Box, oblivious to the sound of her name carrying through the air as she walked out the door and into the light.

"Buffy," Spike called again and rushed to her retreating form before a hand fastened around his bicep.

"Bloody ‘ell, Bitlet," Spike admonished and tried to remove his hand from Faith’s grasp but she refused to let go. "What are you doin?"

"Let her go, Spike." Her voice was soft yet her eyes were hard and they brokered no argument.

Spike studied her, the anger slowly seeping from him and he relaxed in her grasp. He wanted to rant and rave about the stupidity of letting the distraught slayer go so close to game time but, for a reason he could not fathom, he trusted that the young woman knew what she was doing.

Nodding solemnly, the vampire stalked across the floor and entered the training room. It surprised everyone in the room when the door quietly clicked shut.

Smiling sadly in the direction her father went, Faith turned her attention to the crushed Watcher in front of her. She knelt in front of him and gently touched his shoulder.

"Go to her," she said, her voice painful in its softness.

"I…I don’t believe that is the best course of action at this particular time," Giles replied and then laughed hollowly at his own long windedness.

"Grandpa," she said and smiled when shock then wonder filtered across the features of the Watcher. "The one thing my Mum regretted when you…died, was that she didn’t expressed her feelings for you often enough. It took her a long time before she said she loved you and it wasn’t too long after that that you were taken away from her. I don’t know if you realize it or just keep it hidden, but you are her father. You have been for the last six years. And she loves you like one. The problem is that you two are so similar, afraid to cross that boundary of admittance of what you have; don’t do that. Because you’ll find that time has a way of moving faster than you would like."

Giles watched in admiration as Faith walked to the back of the store and into the training room. His was thrown by the accuracy of her words. It was true that he had loved Buffy like a daughter for quite sometime and she knew that from the words of Quentin Travers, but not from him. Though he had told her several times how proud she had made him, he never clarified his true feelings for her, deeming it inappropriate. He chuckled to himself at the ridiculousness of it and without further preamble he spun on his heels and strode purposefully toward the door.

"Giles," Xander called, "where are you going?"

The Watcher stopped and glanced over his shoulder, his thin lips curved into a light smile. "I'm going to tell that young woman out there just how much I love her." He said nothing more and the jingle of the bell signaled his final departure from the store.

Chapter 5

A Last Look

Seth was vaguely aware of the voices conversing around him though his mind was otherwise preoccupied. After Dawn had calmed somewhat from her meltdown, the vampire had thought it best that he left--but not before giving her a gentle kiss on her forehead.

What the hell is going on with me? He thought as he stared at the saccharine beauty in front of him. Four hours ago he had told Jennifer that he loved her and, for the first time since Emerald, he had felt complete within. He had thought that would have been enough but not forty-five minutes ago, he had kissed Dawn and all his delusions about loving Jennifer had crumbled. There was no question in his mind that, despite their short time together, he did indeed love the exotic beauty but the magnetism that drew him to Dawn dwarfed his affections for Jennifer, making them feel insignificant by comparison. Even when he touched her, was inside her, Jennifer was like a sweet memory, enticing and lovely yet never comparing to the real thing. On the other hand, Dawn was the personification of that memory in the flesh and his time with Jennifer had become stale by comparison.

"Your mind on other things, lover?" Jennifer questioned Seth as she ran her fingernails up and down his bare back. Seth turned to her, chilled by the warm smile radiating from her face--a smile that, not one hour earlier would have laced him with desire.

Seth's aloofness was not lost on the raven goddess and her thin eyebrows furrowed at her lover's distant attitude. Even as he smiled at her, she saw through it, the gesture almost mechanical in comparisons to his warmer receptions of her.

"I don’t know," he sighed. "I just have a bad feeling about this." And that was partially the truth. The confusion that warred within him about his feelings for the two women were the major part of his worries but not the sole part of it all. There was something else, something nagging at the back of his consciousness that whispered to him in the darkness, warning him that, after tonight, he would never be the same. He had never felt anything like it and, though he couldn’t admit it aloud, it unnerved him.

"Come now, lover," Jennifer cooed and her fingers raked easily through his platinum locks. She smiled inwardly as the gesture had finally elicited the desired response. Balling her fingers into his hair, Jennifer pulled Seth towards her and devoured him in a soulless lovers' kiss, her tongue viciously plundering his mouth.

The gentle voice and deft fingers of his lover sparked the flame of desire for Jennifer that Seth had thought Dawn had extinguished. He was taken off guard by the dark beauty's aggressiveness as she forced him into a kiss, raking his mouth open with her probing tongue. It wasn’t until her pleasure-filled moan echoed in his mouth that the vampire returned the kiss in full force, his hands grabbing her hips roughly as his cock jumped against the uncomfortable barrier of his jeans.

"Don’t mean to break up you to kiddies," the annoyed, baritone voice of Rack sounded, "but we do have plans to finalize, do we not?"

Reluctantly, the two lovers pried themselves apart, leering at one another with promises of satisfaction harboring in the very near future.

"Yes, Rack," Jennifer, said, rolling her obsidian eyes. "I am very well aware of what needs to be done." She turned towards Seth, her dark features lit with adoration. "So, I take it that your 'friends' know their role."

He nodded absently, intent on pushing away the slithering presence of dread that coiled around his spine like a vile serpent. "Yeah, gonna meet them an hour or so before we got to the Bronze to give 'em the 9-1-1 on our plans."

"Nine-one-one?" Jennifer asked interestedly.

"Well," he said and she shuddered at his malice-filled smile, "I would call it the four-one-one but considering there's gonna be a whole helluva lotta pain and death being inflicted, I thought it was apropos to re-christen the saying."

Jennifer chuckled briefly before taking his hand and kissing each knuckle. "A man after my own heart," she smiled and returned her attention to the plan.

***

A slight smile cracked Seth's face as he watched his sleeping lover snuggle closer to him, her head nestled comfortably against his shoulder while her arm was flung possessively across his chest. He smiled at her unguarded features, content and glowing, a wistful smile tracing her lips. His gaze lingered down her slender form that had been privy to his caresses and kisses not twenty minutes before. The lovemaking had been wonderful in its savagery as the two lovers had bucked and bitten one another with a desperation borne of unknown emotions. Her heated womb had milked him of his undead seed and now his flaccid member clung helplessly to his inner thigh.

Seth chuckled silently at his manhood, though he could not discern what was so funny. He abruptly ceased his laughter when Jennifer's warm body shifted beside him, her face contorted in an annoyed scowl before she turned her back to him and pulled her pillow to her.

"Sorry," the vampire murmured into her hair before kissing her head and dislodging his arm from under her head.

Drawing his knees to his chest, the blond vampire raked his hands through his wild locks and sighed. What the hell is wrong with me? He asked himself as he glazed over the fetal pose of Jennifer's naked body. The sensations that she brought to his flesh, the way she moved above him, impaling herself time and again on his thick shaft, the way she shuddered in completion as his fangs sank into her breasts, was all that he could hope for. But for some unknown reason, it wasn’t enough.

That's not true, now is it? He admitted silently. Even if he couldn’t say it aloud, the reason that Jennifer's supplication to his physical desires wasn't enough had something to do with his visit to Dawn earlier.

"Hell," he whispered bitterly, "it has everything to do with it." He shook his head in disgust as he gingerly swung his legs off the bed and onto the hardwood floor. He yanked his pants over his legs violently as his thoughts drifted between his lover and the young girl who had ensnared him almost as surely as Emerald had.

Seth glided noiselessly from the room, looking back once he reached the door to ensure that Jennifer was still asleep. Closing the door behind him, the vampire walked listlessly through the halls, uncertain of his destination. So he walked, admiring the paintings and architecture of the condo and the scent of flowers that wafted through his nostrils. He focused on the smooth feel of the wood under his feet or the faint sounds of nature filtering in from the daylight. Anything was better than the jumble that his thoughts were when he thought about her?

She's just a damn kid, He thought. A damn kid whose probably never even kissed a guy before. Or even seen a cock, let alone fucked one. But as much as he tried to downplay and degrade the young girl, he still could not rid himself of the taste of her lips against his or the warmth of her body. And his ears echoed with the memory of the three words he had whispered in her ear over and over as she cried.

"How can I love her?" He asked the empty corridors that answered him with a resounding silence. Well, the sarcastic voice in his head sung, you told Jennifer you loved her.

"Yeah, but…" he ground his words to a halt, knowing it was useless. He had told himself that, despite the connection he had made with Dawn earlier that he would not see her again until the ritual was complete. By the time it was finished, she wouldn’t be the same anyway, so why bother? He wanted nothing more than to forget the few moments he and Dawn shared earlier that day. Well, at least that's what he was trying to tell himself.

Obviously, his feet had other ideas, considering he now stood in front of a familiar office door.

"Shit," he muttered and turned to leave but stood fast. That pull, that undeniable attraction that he had felt earlier, the same magnetic connection that drew him to Emerald as she walked the streets all those years ago tugged at him now. No, as much as part of him wanted to forget Dawn and bathe in the lust and masked cruelty of Jennifer, a bigger part of him wanted so desperately to drown in the one thing that Jennifer had not possessed. It had been the exact same trait that had drawn him to Emerald and now that he had had a taste of it, he knew he couldn’t live without it.

Innocence.

The innocence radiated from Dawn like a cauldron of flames, licking around him in a tempestuous dance he could not resist. He knew it was futile to try and he did the only thing he could do.

Seth unlocked the door before flicking the light on and peering into the room. There, laying across the couch, eyes on him, was Dawn. His shoulders slumped in resignation and he snaked his way into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Busted," she said and for a moment he thought he had seen a smile twinkle across her celestial face.

"Looks like," he said and nervously walked toward her. Nervous? He shouted in indignation. Why would I be nervous? What's to be nervous about?

Dawn studied her captor with hooded eyes and attempted to keep her traitorous thoughts under wraps. What was it about him that made her pulse quicken? Or the fact that she now had about a million butterflies circling endlessly in her stomach as she studied his sheepish gaze.

Sheepish, she thought, amused. Is he nervous? Why would he be? Cuz I'm so much of a hottie. Her last thought sent her into a fit of giggles that she hindered by slapping her hands over her mouth.

"Something funny?" Seth asked and was thankful that her little laugh-fest had distracted him from his previous timidity. He sauntered over to her, back into the comfortable feel of total control.

"No, it's nothing," Dawn said carefully. As funny as her thoughts were, she didn’t want to risk making the vampire mad. If Spike were any measuring bar, vampires weren't what one would call receptive to being the subject of jokes--aside from those that detailed maiming and killing.

"So," she said after garnering control of his giggly fit, "what brings you here?"

"Don’t know. I just…" he stopped suddenly, his eyes narrowing on Dawn's lithe form on the couch. There was something different about her. He studied her posture; legs stretched out on the couch, feet crossed at the ankles. Her hands now rested atop her stomach while her hair was pooled around her shoulders. Her eyes were slits in the darkness and her gentle mouth was slightly upturned in a smile.

"You're not afraid," he voice was filled with wonder. That's what was different. Her posture and scent lacked the fear evident in their previous two encounters and he had no idea why.

Dawn was startled by Seth's words and it wasn’t until she thought about them that she realized how true they were. She wasn’t sure but something told her that when he had held her during her breakdown, something in her saw him as he truly was within, without the demon. She may have been apprehensive but she no longer feared him and, in a way, it was similar to her relationship with Spike. Of course, she couldn’t say that she trusted Seth with her life like she did Spike, but there was a definite connection that had been made during his earlier visit that felt unbreakable.

"Why aren't you afraid?" He asked, though he wasn't overly concerned about her fear as much as the reason. He couldn’t help but wonder if her lack of fear had something to do with his earlier trepidation.

"Well," she said and hoped her casual tone didn’t betray her own fluttery and confusing feelings, "having a vampire as a best friend may have something to do with that. And, no offense, but he looks so much tougher than you even without the tattoos."

Seth tilted his head to the side, admiring the courage in this one. Kinda pathetic, buddy, he thought to himself, can't even strike fear in a teenager.

"Well," he said and a mischievous smile flickered across his features before he lunged for her. "Guess I'll have to try another tactic."

Dawn was wholly unprepared for the attack and she instinctively covered her face. Unbeknownst to her, however, her reaction was just the one he was looking for and she bucked in shock when the vampire's fingers found their target.

"What are you doing?" she screamed as another fit of giggles hit her. She didn’t know how or why, but Seth had found her number one ticklish spot and he was in the midst of assaulting it with both hands, no trace of mercy written anywhere on his face.

"Well," he said between unnecessary huffs of breath, "if you don’t fear me now, I guess I'll just have to re-introduce it to you."

Seth continued his relentless assault for several minutes, ignoring Dawn's helpless pleas. It wasn’t until she threatened to pee her pants that the vampire stopped and cringed in mock-disdain.

"Ok," he said, taking a seat on the floor, "if you don’t have more control than that, maybe you need to invest in a pair of Depends."

Dawn rolled her eyes, though the gesture lacked a certain 'umph' since tears still trickled from them.

"Well, it's kinda difficult to maintain full bladder control when a certain someone is tickling you to death."

Seth shrugged. "Well, you should've been afraid."

"Well, now I'm not afraid, I'm terrified." She gave him her best fearful look and he glared at her in satisfaction before both of them were lost in another fit of giggles.

Dawn was the first to sober up and she stared at Seth for a minute before he, too, regained composure.

"What?" He asked curtly, unnerved by the seriousness of her stare.

"Why are we like this?" She asked, her voice wavering slightly. "Why do I feel like I've known you for so long? Why don’t I fear you? And, most importantly, why do I just want you to hold me right now?"

The words stung Seth to the core and he could only offer her a glazed stare while his mind processed the truth of it all.

Unlike him, Dawn had not tried to cover up what had happened earlier between them. In fact, the look in her eyes told him that all she wanted was answers to it all. Unfortunately, he knew that answers were the last thing he could give her.

"Sorry, Dawn, but I really can't answer any of those questions for you." He watched her shoulders deflate slightly before finishing. "The only thing I do know is that you remind me of someone from a long time ago. Well, a long time from now, if we're going by your time." He scooted towards her and took her thin hand in is.

"The truth is, Dawn, the woman I fell in love with--before I was turned--was you." He almost laughed at her wide eyes and gaping mouth. He waited patiently for it to sink in as Dawn shut her eyes tightly and grimaced as if in pain.

"Are you…Dawn, are you all right?"

Her hollow laughter filtered into his ears and she finally gathered the will to look at him. "So, let me get this straight. Forty years from now, or however long, I meet you and you fall in love with me?"

"Not quite that simple, but you got the gist of it." Dawn searched the vampire's unnatural eyes as if for the first time. She didn’t know what she was doing but she focused her mind on him, willing herself to see what she had not experienced before.

Colors danced before her in a litany of motion--a swirling rainbow of activity. Before her flashed Seth, though not him. It was the same vision she had seen earlier, though his features remained in her mind as his face disappeared. It was followed by a multitude of sensations, some her own, others not.

Pain, blinding pain as the bullet ripped through his chest.

A greater pain as a green light radiated his body until…the wound was gone.

Her reminder of someone special to her every time she saw Seth.

His fear when she had thrown him into the wall, anger coursing through her at his words to…

The pain in her chest as she knew what she had to do to keep him alive.

Her marking him by the simple touch of her hand against his ribs…

The innocence in her withering away as she watched--Gabriel? --Press Seth roughly against the floor and pierce his flesh with razor sharp incisors, draining him as she could only sob…

"Seth," Dawn whispered and she mechanically traced her fingers across his face, dazed.

"What's wrong, baby?" he heard himself ask. He didn’t think about what he had called her, just that he wanted her to be okay.

"Your eyes--"

"What about 'em?"

"They used to be brown," she said and her fingers tentatively reached out toward his steely blue orbs. "And your hair--was black. And this scar…" she fingered the scar gently and she jumped back, the feel of the marred skin bringing her back to reality.

"How-how did you know?"

She closed her eyes and leaned back into the couch. "I don’t know. I just sorta focused on you and I…" her eyes shot open as she remembered something from her visions.

All her features had been darker. Her eyes were coal and her hair as midnight. Even her skin was darker, housing an exotic bronze tint yet the remaining physical features had been wholly Dawn's.

"I was her," she said and tears began to fall again.

"Wha…"

"I was her when you met me. Even then, she joined with me and…" but her voice overflowed by the influx of tears as she became resigned to her fate.

"No, Dawn. Don’t cry. It's going to be all right."

She pushed him back roughly, resentment etched into her face. "How? How is everything going to be all right? Because from my vantage point, not looking close to all right! Do you realize that, by the next time I see the sun, it won't be me seeing it? Do you? Do you understand that, the only thing that will be walking around is an updated shell of what I am? There will be no part of Dawn Summers in it."

"No, that's not true, Dawn. That's not true at all," Seth cooed and patted her on the shoulder. She jerked away from him and turned her back.

"What do you know? All you know is that you're going to get your precious 'Em' back, so what do you care about me."

Before Dawn could take another breath, Seth held her against the wall by the shoulders, his face contorted in anger and--pain? When he spoke his tone was both dangerous and somewhat broken and even though golden red flecks danced in his eyes, Dawn was still not afraid.

"I don’t care? I don’t care? If I didn’t care, do you think I would be taking the fuckin' time to comfort you while you wail like a baby? Do you think, if I didn’t care, that I would have kissed you as if my very un-life depended on it? If I didn’t care for you, do you think that I would have said I loved you?"

"You said it to Cynthia," she said defiantly and was promptly dropped back to the couch.

Seth stared at her in disbelief. Cynthia? How had she known? It couldn’t be--but on some level he knew it was. As if the day couldn’t get any weirder.

Taking several unneeded breaths, Seth knelt in front of Dawn and rested his hands on either of her knees.

"I know," he said softly.

"Seth," Dawn replied, seeing the hurt in his eyes.

"Don’t. Just--just let me finish." His eyes pled with her and she nodded her acquiescence.

"You're right about Cynthia. I told her I loved her and you found out when you walked in on me tearing her down. It was one of my not-so-hot highlights with you. It was one of the few times I was terrified of you. You told me how the things I said to her reminded you of the things someone your best friend had loved said to him."

"Spike…" she muttered and saw the flash of anger cloud Seth's features before they became soft again.

"Yeah, figured as much. Anyway, I had lied to her just to get her to bed. You weren't too fond of that. Threw my ass clear across the room. Anyway, you were the first person I loved."

"So, you haven't said that to anyone else and meant it?" She asked, still confused.

Seth glanced down guiltily before answering. "Not quite." Off her look he put up his hands. "Hold it, let me explain…"

"It was Ms. Calendar, wasn't it?"

"How…"

"I don’t know," she answered truthfully, though there was something. "I saw…Emerald watched when Gabriel turned you and something died while I…while she watched. I think it was…"

"Your innocence."

"My what?"

"Your innocence," he repeated.

"How do you figure?"

"I didn’t," he admitted, "not until I realized what it was that made me want you earlier. Yeah, I told Jennifer I loved her because I felt in her a part of what was in Emerald. It's the darkness, the evil within her that I love in her. Though I loved all of Emerald, when I was human, that part of her terrified me to no end though the danger of it compelled me as well.

"But that wasn't why I fell in love with Emerald. It was her innocence." He chuckled at the flood of memories of his love filtering through his brain. "You know, it took me five tries to get the courage to walk up to her?"

"Why?"

"Well, because I was…a little nervous. Don’t know why. Anyway, I saw her walking the downtown streets of my hometown, which, is not the nicest of places. And just so you know, even before I was a vamp, I was a most distasteful drain on the world--let's just leave it at that. Anyway, the first time I saw her, even if I didn’t see her face, I was completely enchanted by the way she moved, the way her hair flowed at her back and this incredible vibe of goodness that shone from her like a light.

"The point is, Dawn," he said, taking her hand, "is that's what I see in you. That's what I love in you."

"And you're still going to let her do this, aren't you? Let her use me." The teen couldn’t keep the tears at bay nor the bitterness from her voice.

"Dawn, I…"

"Save it!" She spat. "You're just like all the other monsters. You're nothing like Buffy or Willow or Spike. They say they love me and they show it. You say it and add, 'Sorry kid, but the Evil-Bitch needs you for her little project. No hard feelings.' Well, you know what? Fuck you!"

"Dawn…"

"Get out! Get out! Get the fuck out!" she screamed and Seth was taken aback at the vehemence in her tone. Defeated, the vampire stood and walked to the door and opened it. Before closing it, however, he turned back, and fixed his watery blue eyes to the burning green flames of Dawn.

"You know, you're right. I am like all the other monsters. I'm cold and evil and cruel. But I also can love. The thing is, my love ain't pure like it used to be when I was human. Now, it's selfish. I wish I could help you, but I can't. I'm not strong enough to beat her. Even if I killed her body, she would just come back and fuck me over, regardless of whatever protection I've been given. But at least now, when you two merge, I will have a part of you by my side. I may have to get used to it but hell, I've got all the time in the world.

"I know you deserve someone that loves you and doesn’t care about themselves more, but I do. I wish I could give you what you need, but I can't. And for that, I am sorry. I can only hope you remember that much…" and with that he closed the door.

As he walked away, the door drowning out most of Dawn's sobbing, for only the second time in his un-life, Seth truly wished he could be human again.

Chapter 6

My Daughter, The Hero I

He found her about a block away from the store, sitting peacefully on a bench, her back to him. As he rounded her, he saw that her legs were crossed, hands resting neatly in her lap as she stared at the passing clouds overhead, oblivious to the passersby that noticed the silent tears falling from her bright, hazel eyes. His heart ached to see her like this, resigned and beaten as if she had already lost the fight. Not only did he feel her pain, but his as well, for the scene before Giles reminded the Watcher too much like their last conversation before the battle with Glory when she had all but given up, though, in the end, she had pulled herself and the others through--though she paid the ultimate price. And now, here she was again, same position as before though the Watcher prayed that this time, the results would be different.

He sat quietly beside her, for the moment content to be near her, watching the sky as she did. His arm was splayed along the back of the bench and his fingers brushed against her bare shoulder and he couldn’t hide the anxiety as his fingers touched her but he visibly relaxed when she did not flinch at the contact. His other hand raked through his hair before coming to rest at the back of his neck where his fingers kneaded his tense muscles.

"Nice day, isn't it?" Buffy said, breaking the silence. Giles' heart leapt in his chest at her unexpectedly cheerful voice though he concealed his reaction.

"Yes," he replied, his eyes raking across the rest of the sky, "I suppose it is."

"You know, Dawn loves days like this. I used to, too. When we lived in LA, before all of this, we used to sit outside on our deck just relaxing' in the shade. Mom joined us sometimes, but it was usually just me and Dawnie. It was kind of like our little solace, you know? Even when we were so mad at each other that Mom would send us both to our rooms, still, when we would sit in our one-pieces, the sun out, partially masked by white clouds, everything was okay. All the anger would just melt away and within minutes we would be joking around, me telling her about high school, her telling me about elementary. Some Saturdays, I'd just sit there with her, even though my friends would be at the mall. I guess I didn’t want her to feel so left out. Not that she didn’t irk me to death sometimes, but she was still my Dawnie. That never changed. Until I died.

"Even when Glory was after us and we couldn’t rest for a minute, I still had her. It was so hard after Mom died, you know? I had to tell Dawn at school," Giles noticed that the tear fell more freely but Buffy didn’t slow down. "She just collapsed right in the hall and all I could do was hold her. I don’t even think I cried then. Guess I was all cried out. Aside from a few stray tears, I didn’t even cry at the funeral. I think she resented me for that. Did you know she tried to bring her back? Yep, went to some demon guy or something who gave her the ritual and all. I know she wasn’t alone and I have a pretty good idea who her accomplice was but…

"Anyway, that night, I found out about the ritual and how she didn’t think I cared that Mom died--said I was just mad I had to clean up the mess. I slapped her. Hard. And when I saw what I had done, and looked into her eyes, I lost it. The tears just came and then Mom--or whatever it was--knocked at the door. At that moment, I didn’t care what she came back as; I just wanted her back. But I guess it clicked with Dawn that what was coming back was not our Mom. She destroyed the thing before I opened the door. I think that was when it sunk in for me that she was never coming back.

"I cried for hours in Dawn's arms with the front door wide open." She sighed heavily and wiped the tears away with the palm of her hand before continuing. "That was the turning point, I think. That was when I finally realized that Dawn was a part of me. I knew the monks used my blood to make her, but it wasn't until I cried in her arms that I knew we were more than just sisters, we were something else entirely.

"I don’t even know what that 'something else' is, not even now. The only thing I know is that whatever bond we shared then is gone now." Buffy buried her face in her hands before she turned to her father figure and met his gaze.

"I'm not the same as I was before I died, Giles. The things I have done and said to people have been so horrible. Only now can I say that I'm getting back to what I used to be. And if it weren't for…if it weren't for those close to me, I don’t think I'd ever have come out of whatever type of post-heaven malaise I was in."

Buffy took Giles' hand in both of hers and his stomach churned with hurt as he stared upon her dwindling features. When she had been talking earlier, though the pain was evident on her face, she concealed it well. Now, however, it threatened to devour her and Buffy looked no more than a five-year-old child afraid of the monsters under her bed.

"I can't lose her, Giles. Not now, not ever. I love her so much and I haven't really told her that since the day I was going to turn myself in. I don’t think I can handle it…" she choked out before everything else was drowned out by a flood of tears.

Giles instinctively wrapped the petite slayer in his warm embrace, his hands gently caressing her back as she sobbed into his chest.

Though he wanted nothing more than to whisper words of encouragement to her, they refused to come. His analytical side understood that no choice was to be had and letting Dawn go was the only option. But his parental side, the side that saw Buffy and Dawn, as daughters could not, would not accept such helplessness and battered his mind with countless options, though he knew they were all unacceptable.

"Buffy," he cooed. She did not respond and only cried harder at the sound of her name. Giles tenderly grabbed her by the arms and nudged her away, intent on looking into her eyes.

"Buffy," his voice was firmer but held the same trace of empathy and affection as before. "I know what you are going through. How this must feel."

Buffy dropped her eyes, studying the space between her and her mentor. "You don’t know what I feel," she replied sadly. "No one does." She jerked her head up at Giles' harsh laughter.

"I don’t? Is that because Dawn is not my sister? Well, you are right about that part. But do you know how I feel? How it feels to possibly lose someone that is your daughter in all but blood? I have known your sister as long as I've known you. It may not have been an instant fatherly feeling I had toward her, but as Spike says, blame that on my stiff upper crust Nancy-boy manner." That elicited a quick smile from Buffy and Giles continued. "But it doesn’t matter, now. Dawn is as much my daughter as you are and I love you both equally and unconditionally and it…" he heard his voice crack with emotion and scrambled to get himself under control.

"And it terrifies me to no end to think of what may happen to her tonight. I cannot deny that a vast part of me wants nothing more than to stop this sodding ritual, world be damned. But do you know why I won't?" Buffy shook her head. "Despite what I said earlier, it's not because of any sense of duty. Well, at least not in the way you may think. My duty is to protect those that I love and that sometimes means presupposing things they would want me to do--regardless of my own feelings. And the part of me, the fatherly part of me, that wants Dawn safe and sound also knows that she would give her life to protect us--just like she would have thrown herself from the tower had you not been there."

"But Giles," Buffy moaned, "she's only a kid." The Watcher chuckled and removed his glasses, letting them dangle from his fingers.

"Buffy, Dawn may be only fifteen, but she is far older than you give her credit for and I am not referring to her previous existence as the Key, either. You should have seen the strength and character she displayed last summer when you were…"

"It's okay, Giles, you can say it."

"…Gone. While you were gone, those first few weeks, it was her that held us together. It was Dawn that focused us on what still needed to be done. And it was Dawn that kept Spike in our company."

At the mention of her lover, Buffy blushed but her voice was steady when she spoke.

"What do you mean?"

Giles had noticed his charge's flush but decided to address that later. "When you…died, Buffy, Spike was a wreck. After you had jumped, the sun was rising and we were all lost in the fact that you were actually gone. No one even noticed the horrible sobs coming from Spike nor the fact that he was set on walking into the sun. It wasn’t until Dawn tackled him that our attention was drawn away from you. It took both Xander and myself to hold him down. Even though the chip fired every time he pushed us from him, he did not stop. Not until cradled his head in her lap and whispered something to him. She never told anyone what she had said but it obvious did the trick as he collapsed into her arms and they both cried together. That first week, she refused to let him out of her sight, for fear of him injuring himself.

"After that week, however, he had returned to the sarcastic and annoying Spike that we all have come to know and loathe. At least for the most part…"

"He blamed himself," Buffy informed Giles absently. She wiped the new wave of tears that Giles' words had brought away and inhaled deeply. "He told me last night. Even now, he still thinks he failed me."

"Dear lord, Buffy, I would have never have known he would still feel this way?"

"Why?" She couldn’t hide the frustration in her voice. "Is it because he's a vampire and has no soul? Because he is, by nature, nothing more than a selfish creature of the night and can't love? Can't feel guilt?"

Giles was thunderstruck by Buffy's rabid defense of the vampire. From what he had gathered when the vampire was by her side earlier, Giles knew there was some sort of a connection between the two--there always had been. But he would never have guessed just how deep their connection was, even though he knew what was to come for them. And their daughter.

"Not exactly. Just the fact that I hadn't noticed any overwhelming show of guilt from him, aside from the Buffy-bot, that is."

"So, you think he can feel guilt then?"

"Buffy, you know that vampires do not feel guilt because of their lack of a soul. It’s only natural. However, be that as it may, you and I both know that there is nothing about Spike’s behavior that I would classify as natural. Were it not for the knowledge I have on his relationship with Drusilla, I would never have fathomed a vampire's ability to love. And he has fought by our side, though not always for the right reasons, for the better part of three years. You yourself told me that without him, Angelus would have succeeded in raising Acathla. So, though I find it highly unlikely, I must admit that if any soulless creature were capable of experiencing guilt, it would be our--how does Xander put it? --Platinum friend." Buffy laughed heartily and to Giles, it was sweet music. As dire as things were becoming, the genuine sound of Buffy's laughter instilled his diminishing confidence and it was enough for him to be able to change the subject.

"You care for him," he said and almost laughed at her wide hazel eyes staring at him in disbelief.

"What do you--how do you…?" but Giles held up a hand to silence the nervous slayer.

"It's all right, Buffy."

"But…how did you know?"

"Aside from the looks I have seen you give him? Or the smell of cigarettes that clung to you after patrol when I was staying with you? Or how easily he was able to settle you down earlier?"

"But…but," she stuttered.

"Believe me, Buffy, just because I don’t appear to be, I am quite observant when the situation requires."

"But you're not mad?" He heard the hopeful plea in her voice and he affectionately brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eye.

"No, Buffy, I am not mad."

She lowered her eyes. "But you're disappointed, huh?"

Giles tilted her chin up and fixed her eyes into his. "Buffy, listen to me, and listen carefully. Remember the Angelus ordeal when you thought I was disappointed in you for what happened to make him lose his soul? What did I tell you?"

"That you were the wrong person to look at if I was looking for guilt."

"And this is no different, Buffy. I may not know the particulars of your relationship, but seeing you together today, how you kissed him, assures me that your relationship with Spike has transcended the intense hatred and loathing of a few years ago."

"Try a year ago," she snorted.

"No, Buffy you are wrong," on her look, he continued forward, "I don’t believe you have hated Spike in quite sometime. And, as hesitant as I am to admit it, I myself have not hated him for a while. To be honest, with the exception of Xander, none of us truly hate Spike."

"Yeah, but he's evil," she said and it sounded weak even to her.

"That may be true that his nature is one of evil, but I daresay that he hasn't been a victim to his nature in well over a year."

"But it's the chip…"

"Buffy," Giles admonished playfully, "we both know that, if he wished, Spike could have continued his penchant for evil even with the Initiative chip in his brain." Giles studied Buffy's face intently before speaking again. "Buffy, it seems to me that you know all of this, so why are you asking?"

"I don’t know," She shrugged, "I guess I just want to make sure that I'm not the only one that sees that." It was then that Giles knew.

"Are you sure about this, Buffy?" His gaze never wavered from her eyes and she nodded hesitantly.

"Yes, Giles, I'm sure. It's the surest I've been of anything in my life."

"When did you know?" And it was unmistakable as to what he was referring to.

"Awhile, I guess. But it wasn't until he almost got staked last night that I admitted to myself what he meant to me. And then, later on, when we were in bed…" she saw the widening of Giles' eyes, "talking, Giles. Talking. That's when I figured out that he still felt guilty about me jumping off that tower. But that wasn't all of it. I just started thinking back to how much he has really done for me. For all of us. And what has he gotten for his trouble? Aside from Dawn's unwavering affection, we have only given him grief and ridiculed his handicap. We've never given him a reason to stay with us, aside from some chump change, and yet he was always there for us. I never thought about how hard it must have been for him. Living one way for over a century and then have it ripped from you. And when you actually want to change for the better, to have it thrown back into your face. I don’t know how he did it."

"I must admit that Spike has shown a resilience I have not seen in even the strongest willed human. And you are right; we have given him nothing. That is why I apologized today to him and I hope he accepts it and understands the sincerity behind my words."

"I think he does, Giles," Buffy said and wrapped her arm around Giles' waist. "I think he does."

"So, have you told him?"

"No. I wanted to this morning and again when he was comforting me earlier. The only reason I didn’t tell him in the Magic Box was because I want it to be just me and him alone."

"Buffy," the Brit warned, "do not wait too long to tell him."

"Do you think he'll leave or something?" She asked and couldn’t hide the sliver of fear from her voice.

"Fat chance," Giles laughed. "Spike has subjected himself to ridicule by us and the demon world alike. He has been humiliated beyond comprehension as well as beaten for information and threatened by us at every turn, all the time having no way to defend himself. Yet he remains. If he has any inkling that you remotely care for him, he most definitely will not leave."

"I know, Giles. I guess. But I want to wait until we have all this sorted out."

"That is fine, Buffy. But I do have something to say that cannot wait." He felt Buffy's arm tighten around him as she glanced up at him.

"It's not bad news, Giles, is it? I don’t think I can handle anymore badness."

"I should hope this would not come as bad news. Buffy, I have told you several times how proud you have made me, but I don’t believe I have ever told you how much I love you.

"Buffy, you are everything I could have wished for. Not just in a slayer or a student--but in a daughter. Like I said before, both you and Dawn are like my daughters. Though I feel that the others--Xander, Willow, Tara and Anya--are family as well, you will always hold that special place in my heart. For I look upon you as I would my first-born. And there is nothing more precious than that, my child."

Buffy could only gaze up at her mentor, her teacher and now, the one she saw as her true father, in disbelief. His words had touched her in a place she had thought Hank Summers had destroyed and it wasn't long before she buried her face into his chest and cried. But this time, they were tears of joy.

After several long minutes, Buffy had reduced her crying binge to light sniffles and she held onto him like a daughter would. It took a few more minutes before she trusted her voice and when she spoke, her words were the last thing that Giles would have expected.

"So," she drawled, "is Spike like some rakish cousin to you?"

"Dear lord," he muttered in horror, "I should hope not. He's more like the barely tolerable boyfriend of my daughter." Giles was rewarded by another ringing laugh from Buffy that made him smile and he drew her closer to him.

"Giles?"

"Yes, Buffy?"

"Everything is going to be okay, isn't it?"

He tumbled the question over in his mind, thinking of the ways that he could answer it. In truth, he had no idea what the future would hold for them and he was sure that Buffy already knew that. He most assuredly wanted to share with her some of the knowledge he had discovered about her and Spike and the child they were to have but he held his tongue; she didn’t need to be burdened by anything else. He didn’t want to lie to her but there was no reason to damage her already shaky spirits. So he did what any father would do.

"Yes, Buffy, everything will be okay. It always is."

Buffy snuggled closer to Giles, knowing that they had only a few more minutes to spare before they needed to get to work. She didn't know why she asked Giles how things would turn out, knowing herself that things didn’t look promising. But he had been right; everything did have a way of working out for them in the end and she doubted that this would be any different.

As they rose from the bench and she gave him a warm, daughterly embrace, she couldn’t help but appreciate the father that Giles had become to her. With only a handful of words, he had taken her dire thoughts and given her hope where there was none.

And, as a father, that what he was supposed to do for his little girl.

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