Chapter 18
That Other Pesky Shoe
All eyes were trained on the Watcher as he scrubbed his glasses. It wasn’t that they were surprised in the least—except for maybe Dawn’s friend—rather, the announcement was so typical, expected even, that they really couldn’t muster a single remark from their collective repertoire of witty Scoobie-isms that were remotely original and unique. That was Sunnydale, all right, stay here awhile and the apocalypse became just another weekly event, along with manicures, guy talk, and Tuesday night shows at eight.
"Leave it to Rupie here to disturb the peace," Spike said, and threw a leg across the arm of the chair.
"I apologize, Spike," the Watcher said, "if my ill tidings are hampering your laying about."
"Please ignore my undead boyfriend," Buffy said and cast an annoyed glance over her shoulder, only to have it stripped at the vision of joy etched across the vampire’s face. She quickly turned to her mentor, hoping he ignored the flaming rose tint of her cheeks. Thankfully, he did. "So, is it bad?"
"No," he said, and bent over to pick up the books at his feet, "it’s just your ordinary, run-of-the-mill, doom-filled apocalypse."
"Well, well, well," Faith said, "Watcher man is all one with the sarcasm."
"Giles can be fun sometimes," Willow said.
"Guess I have been away," Faith said.
"Okay," Buffy said, and helped the bespectacled man gather the books, "so it's another apocalypse. Like you said, it’s not like we haven’t faced one before. Right?"
"Uh, question," CJ said, "when you guys mean ‘apocalypse’, are you talking about the whole end-of-the-world-Revelations type thing? Cause, if you are, raising my hand here; haven’t experienced an apocalypse."
"Well, then I suggest you get used to it, and fast," a voice suggested from another room. Buffy turned towards the foyer and, glancing over Giles’s shoulder, saw Xander limping into the room.
"Xander," she said, and ran over to him, embracing the former construction worker. She buried her face in his chest and sighed when he stroked her hair.
"As much as I’m liking this reunion, Buff, still very sore here."
"Oh sorry," she said, and pulled away from him. Her eyes scanned her friend’s bruised form, noting that the severity of his injuries had decreased significantly during the night. She frowned before remembering that Willow had kept watch over him. Maybe she and Tara did some recovery magick on him, the slayer rationalized.
"You know you shouldn’t be up, don’t you?" Willow chastised from her seat next to Tara and Dawn. Despite her serious tone, Buffy heard the relief the Wicca carried.
"Well, you know me," Xander said. "Guy: therefore I must ignore all advice that concerns my well being."
"So how are you feeling?" Tara asked.
It was Xander’s turn to shrug. "Other than the Acme Piano dropped from the sky onto my head, fit as a fiddle with, well, several broken strings."
"And still you braved the Great Downstairs to be with us, eh, lover?" Faith said. Buffy turned to her sister slayer and although the bravado that made her Faith was there, the blonde caught a flash of something in the other woman’s eyes that looked suspiciously like—
"Wouldn’t miss it for the world," Xander smiled and glanced over everyone in the room, his eyes resting on Jay’s tense features a fraction longer than the rest. Buffy frowned, but said nothing, deciding that it was probably just her imagination.
"Excuse me, people," CJ said, and Buffy bit back a laugh when she saw the utter confusion in his eyes, "but could you explain to me this whole thing about an apocalypse. Still kinda foggy about it."
"That’s okay," Dawn said, and to everyone’s surprise, kissed him on the cheek, "we’ve got all day to fill you in."
All afternoon was bloody well right, Spike thought. It had taken the Watcher nearly two hours to gather his materials and situate himself at the kitchen table where Dawn, CJ, Willow, Tara and Xander also sat. Faith lounged in the corner, arms folded and Jay stood sentry against the back door, her posture strikingly similar to the brunette slayer.
Spike sat on the island, his legs dangling off the edge and Buffy positioned between his legs, resting against him and the counter; her hands caressed his arms that encircled her waist.
"So, Rupes," Spike said, "are we gonna get this show on the road any time soon?"
Giles rolled his eyes and turned his attention to Buffy. "Are you sure we should not wait for Angel and Cordelia to arrive? We have a great deal to cover and I’d rather not recite this information twice."
"It's cool, Giles," Buffy said, "I’m sure that one of use will happily fill Angel and Cordelia in on the prophecies, portents and thingamabobbies you're gonna tell us about."
"I got your 'thingamabobbie' right here, luv," Spike whispered in Buffy's ear.
"Parental units," Jay pled, "if we could please refrain from giving your only child disturbing images of your desires to copulate."
"Yeah, B," Faith said, and winked at the blonde duo, "it's not nice to flaunt you and Studly's nightly activities here in front of us folks who aren't getting any."
"Guys," Buffy said, and glared at her daughter then Faith, though her cheeks flamed red, "could we please concentrate on what Giles has to say?"
"So, Rupes," the vampire said, "the floor's yours."
"I appreciate your generosity," the watcher deadpanned. "Now, if we may begin.
"Generally speaking, prophecies are an extremely dicey field. Very few are specific towards the details; usually spouting off in some sort of metaphoric nonsense that is deciphered after the event has occurred. In that respect, we have been lucky. On several occasions, Buffy's own prophetic dreams have clarified the particulars of several potentially apocalyptic events. Other times, it has been by sheer stroke of luck that we have prevented such end of the world situations. In fact…"
"Giles," Buffy said, "you're babbling."
"She's right," Willow said, and gave the Watcher a sympathetic smile. "You're almost as bad as me and Buffy were in high school."
"Sorry, Wills, but you and the Buffster are peerless when it comes to the mindless drivel," Xander said.
"Somebody's feeling better," Buffy replied, and rolled her eyes.
"Unfortunately," Spike muttered, and was rewarded with an elbow to the stomach. "Oy, luv, watch it."
"Then don’t talk about my friend like that." Spike scowled at the former carpenter who smiled in triumph.
"Are you three quite finished?" Giles asked, and removed his glasses. Xander and Buffy lowered their eyes at the older man's fiery gaze but Spike returned it with a cold glare of his own.
"Maybe they would, Watcher, if you get to the bloody point and quit trying to sound like a soddin' Encyclopedia Britannica. We don’t need the bloody history of prophecies or their cryptic nature. Just spill the goods, so we can fight this thing and be on our merry little ways."
Pale silence filtered through the room, two pairs of blue eyes locked, engaged in a battle of the wills. Spike knew it was pointless, yet his pride, as always, kicked in at the most inopportune times and he was helpless against his own bravado. From the look of things, Giles was the same way. Of course, the Watcher didn’t have the warm arms of a slayer stroking his arm to curb said pride.
Minx does it ev'ry time, Spike thought and reluctantly lowered his gaze to the back of Buffy's head. He kissed her hair, inhaling her intoxicating scent. She sighed and squeezed his hand before nodding for Giles to continue.
"Yes, as I was saying. This particular prophecy I found is quite detailed, though I must say some of what I found would never have made sense were it not for Faith's--Jay's warnings from the future."
"Speaking of which," Xander said, "do you think this apocalypse has to do with Jay's arrival here?" Xander glanced at the aforementioned party in a way that Spike didn’t like in the least.
"It is entirely possible. I must say that dealing with temporal mechanics and the ensuing repercussions are not my strong suit."
"Excuse me," CJ said, "what do you mean temporal mechanics? Isn't that like Star Trek talk for time warps and that crap?"
"Something like that," Dawn said.
"Wait, 'something like that', or that?"
"Well, CJ…" Dawn started but was interrupted by Jay.
"What it means is that I'm not from this time." CJ blinked and Spike chuckled at the boy's furrowed brow. He had a fleeting thought that the boy reminded him of someone but it passed as CJ spoke.
"As in, you're from the future?"
"Yeah."
"I see." He stared at his hands for several seconds before turning towards Giles. "Please, don’t let my unparalleled befuddlement draw halt to the proceedings."
"Yes, well, as I was saying Xander, it is quite possible and, given the circumstances surrounding this particular prophecy, probable, that Fa--Jay's arrival is the precipitating factor in it coming to fruition."
"But at the same time," Faith said, "Jay's arrival could have been part of the big bad plan from the jump, am I right?"
"Except that things turned out differently forty years from now than they did then," Xander said, his voice almost hollow.
"Still," Faith countered, and walked over to the table, "that doesn’t disqualify the chance that Baby Jay was supposed to come back to change things."
"That's true," Tara said, speaking for the first time, "Dawnie--I mean Emerald did send Jay back for a specific purpose."
"A purpose that she was extremely vague on," Xander muttered.
"Maybe because she couldn’t risk changing it by any other means than by Jay figuring things out," Will suggested. "I mean, yeah, everything was snuckered up by Jay coming here and you would think what's the big if Emerald did tell her what to do, when, in reality, Jay knowing the truth could have bungled things up even more."
"Willow is correct, Xander," Giles said. "The whole point of Emerald sending Jay back in time may have been to thwart whatever is to come."
"And I guess killing Anya was a part of what's to come, huh?"
Xander's words tore the air out of the room. Everyone averted Xander's gaze and Spike's attention immediately fell to Jay. At the mention of Anya's name, she had retreated within herself, blanking out all emotions although he had seen the sorrow and guilt clearly before he had pulled the mask on. He tried to reach out to her as he had moments before but she didn't acknowledge it.
"Xander," Buffy said, "that wasn't Jay's fault, you know that."
"No, I know she didn’t kill Anya, and I know she didn’t have anything against her. That bastard Seth and those demons killed her. But why was Seth her in the first place?" His eyes fell on the emotionless face of Jay. "To bring her back."
"Xander, stop it, now," Tara's voice, confident and angry, cut through the oppressive atmosphere. "You have no idea what happened to Jay there, no idea whatsoever. The things she…" Tears welled in Tara's gentle eyes and her voice hitched. It was only through Willow's loving caresses that she found the strength to continue. "It wasn't her fault."
"I know," Xander said, and stood, "I know." He walked out of the kitchen and they listened as his footfalls against the steps subsided.
"I should go see about him…" Willow said and started to rise but Faith beat her to it.
"Stay here, Witchiepoo, I got it."
"I don’t know if that's a good idea," Buffy said. She pushed away from Spike and he nearly groaned at the loss, but hopped off the island and took his position to Buffy's right, her devoted sentinel.
"Relax, B. Me and Xander, we, well…"
"Have a history, we know," Willow said, and couldn’t quite mask her bitterness.
"Well, maybe she can help him," Dawn said. They all looked at her and she shrunk into her chair. "I'm just saying, you guys know Xander too well. Maybe what he needs is someone who's not as scared about hurting his feelings."
"Thanks, brat," Faith said. "I'm sure if I dig a little, I could find a compliment somewhere in there."
"I didn’t…"
"Five by Five, Dawn. I know what you meant and you're right." Faith turned to the others. "Look, Xander tried to help me when I was flippin' outta control and I tried to…I owe him, just as much as I owe B. Let me do this."
Spike felt Buffy's eyes peering into the other slayer, attempting to detect the truth in Faith's words. He knew Buffy was hesitant to trust Faith after their sorted history. Still, he knew Buffy and what her decision would be.
"Go. We'll fill you in when we brief Angel and Cordy."
"Thanks, B," Faith said and trotted out of the room.
"You okay, Bitlet?" Spike asked Jay. She offered him a weak smile but said nothing.
"What just happened here?" CJ asked, his tone indicating his growing bafflement.
"Dawn'll explain later," Buffy said. "Giles, can we finish this up?" Spike ran his hands along Buffy's shoulders, trying to push away the tension that bled from her pores. She sighed and leaned into him, her petite form adhering to the indentations of his own body. His hands slid down to her waist and snaked to the front. She rested her hands on his and cocked her head to the side, exposing the golden flesh of her throat. It was something she did often and without provocation and Spike couldn’t help but feel overjoyed at the trust she displayed with the simple gesture.
"Yes," Giles said, breaking the vampire's thoughts, "well, as we were saying, Jay's presence here may be the way things are supposed to be, especially since this prophecy does indeed include the Harbinger at the forefront."
"Harbinger?" CJ asked.
"His name is Gabriel," Jay said, "and he's coming."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've seen him, in my dreams."
"Jay's a slayer, like my sister," Dawn supplied. "They have dreams about bad things coming. Part and parcel of the whole slayer gig."
"So they're like, what, professional demon fighters?"
"Yep," Buffy answered, "except the lack of getting paid for risking our lives on a nightly (and sometimes daily) basis, that is. Why is that, Giles?"
"Buffy, focus, please," the watcher sighed.
"Sorry. I just think we should get paid," she muttered.
"Me, too, luv," Spike said.
"Okay, back to my question," CJ said, "who is this Gabriel dude? And why does he want to end the world?"
"We're gonna have to tell him," Dawn said, "about everything."
"What's everything?"
"I agree," Giles said, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "CJ, you obviously know more than you let on about what's happening in this town, and I know that Dawn has explained something about us but I don't know how much."
"Well, she really didn’t tell me much. I mean, other than you guys fight the good fight and all that."
"Sorry," Dawn said, "but I wasn't sure if you were gonna be staying to hear the rest."
"It's cool, I understand. But if I am gonna stay, I want at least an idea about what's going on."
"Fair enough," Spike said, "but on the flip side, you've gotta be straight with us, too." CJ opened his mouth to protest but closed it immediately. He gave Spike a cursory nod before turning back to Giles.
"I will be as brief as possible, however, if you do have questions, Dawn can fill you in when Angel and Cordelia arrive." His gaze hardened and Spike saw the Ripper aura flaring just below the surface. "What we tell you now, CJ, is in great confidence. We are trusting Dawn's judgment on this, along with your actions from last night. Do not disappoint us."
"I won't."
"Good. Well, as you know, Buffy and Faith are slayers, as is Faith Joyce over there. Buffy and Joyce--Buffy and Jay are mother and daughter. Her father is Spike, whom, you may not have noticed, is a vampire."
"I knew there was something about you," CJ said, half-teasingly.
"By nature, vampires are evil and cannot produce offspring, but Spike has always been different. Evidently, he and Buffy having a child is a part of a prophecy that we are dealing with now. And this Harbinger, this Gabriel, is directly connected to Faith Joyce's conception and subsequent birth."
"And who is Emerald?" CJ asked.
"Me," Dawn said.
"You? But I thought…"
"She was in the future? That is correct," Giles said. "However, Dawn is not just your typical teenager."
"Well, I could've told you that," CJ said, and gave Dawn an affectionate pat on the hand that made her blush. The growl that threatened to spill from Spike's chest was quelled by a firm squeeze of Buffy's hand.
"Needless to say," Giles said, "Dawn becomes Emerald in the future, with the ability to open portals into time. She sent Jay here for a purpose, one that has to do with Gabriel."
"I'm the only one that can defeat him," Jay said.
"Why?"
"Don’t know, but it has something to do with me being born." She chuckled humorlessly and Spike noticed the unease in her eyes. "Guess we have that love connection going."
"So, Giles," Buffy said, and gave her daughter a reassuring smile, "when is this Gabriel supposed to be arriving with the apocalypse in tow?"
"While I am unsure as to his arrival date, I do know that the apocalypse is," he hesitated and sifted through his papers, "
the day of His birth and death, the day in which the second miracle was brought into this world." "And what does that mean?""September third," Jay said. "My birthday."
"How do you know?" Willow asked.
"I saw it, a few months ago. And before you ask, Giles, yes I am sure," she said amiably.
"Okay, so we have a few months to prepare for the blighter, no harm, no foul, eh?" Spike said.
"I'm afraid that's not quite accurate, Spike," Giles said. "I believe that demon you, Xander and CJ here fought last night is the first of many preordained vessels that will pave the way for the Harbinger's arrival."
"What does that mean?" Buffy asked, and pulled away from Spike. Despite his desire to keep Buffy relaxed, the vampire couldn’t suppress the tension that settled throughout his body. He didn’t like the sound of this one bloody bit and, call it a lucky guess or experience, but he knew there was still a lot more to this tale.
"The prophecy I found in the Br'allyn Tome states that the Harbinger arriving but not before those that symbolize what he is.
"
And for Death--the Harbinger, shall await the sacrifice of his Body, cleansing it of pain and suffering. And the Body's sacrifice shall pave the way for the Vessels; Hand and Heart and Will. Together the three shall bring forth He that will end all.""Wow," Buffy said, and shook her head. "Does it say anything else, about these Vessels, or about this Harbinger?"
"Yes, it does, though I am not quite sure what to make of it."
"Tell us," Buffy said, and Spike sensed her rising desperation. So she felt it, too.
"It says that the Hand is Destruction, Will cold and cruel, Heart revels in obliteration of love. And as unlikely as it may seem, it is this Heart, not the Hand, that is the most dangerous of the three."
"Why? And what's this about 'obliteration of love'?" Buffy asked, her voice strained. Giles lowered his eyes back to the text and skimmed until he came upon the passage to answer Buffy's question.
"
Using not strength of body but splinters of doubt and mistrust, the Heart will tear and break the Improbable's pillars.""The Improbable?"
"Yes, I assume they are referring to Faith Joyce, considering that in the prophecy she told us named her as the single entity that could arrest the Harbinger's machinations."
"Why?" Buffy nearly shouted. "What is so special about this damn Harbinger? What does he have that me and Spike can't fight? Why does Faith…why does our daughter have to do this?" Spike heard Buffy's words falling into panic and he grabbed her shoulders. He wasn’t surprised to find her shaking, and he knew that her fear originated from something that had not been said--maybe not even known except by her. Although Spike's mind was laced with fear of losing his daughter, Buffy's fear was something born of certainty. And that terrified him.
"Mum," Jay said, and walked over to her mother. She leaned her forehead against Buffy's and smiled genuinely for the first time since they had come into the kitchen. "I'll be all right. You and Daddy will be there to help me. Faith and Dawn will be there, so will Willow and Tara and Giles. I'm not going at it alone, 'kay?"
The young woman's words soothed Buffy and the latter calmed noticeably. She hugged Jay tightly before breaking away and wiping her own half-formed tears away. "So what are these pillars of the Improbable? Does that mean me and Spike?"
"That was my initial assumption," Giles admitted.
"But how is this Heart thing going to get us out of the way?" Buffy asked.
"I truly do not know, but I can only assume that it plans to use whatever reservations that a slayer and vampire have for one another. Regardless of how much you two…love each other, you cannot discount that there is a great deal of discord in regards to your nature as mortal enemies. This Heart will most likely prey on that, as well as any doubts that you have in entering this--union."
"Doesn't matter what's in our nature, Rupes," Spike said. "We've been together in one way or the other for the better part o' five years, and we're both still walkin' around." Spike lowered his gaze to Buffy and entwined his fingers with hers. "Nothin's gonna get between us, not now, not for-bloody-ever."
"Promise?" Buffy whispered.
"Promise." Buffy smiled and brushed a kiss across his lips before returning her attention back to Giles.
"Is there anything, anything at all on this Gabriel guy? Is he a vampire? Some other sort of demon…"
"That's the thing that perplexed me," Giles said, and flipped through a few more pages before finding the proper section. "This passage reads:
And for He, blood is the life, twisting and turning, mingling with the strength of Hell He was cast into…
"
That in itself makes me assume that he is a vampire, although there are other demons that feed on blood, albeit not exclusively as vampires do. And yet…""What, Giles?" Buffy demanded. "You're holding something back."
"I do not mean to, however, this particular passage further obfuscates the true identity of this Harbinger.
"Two souls, that from void and that from the consummation of the Lifeless, torn into One, colder than that which is without…"
"Why can't prophecies ever be even semi-coherent?" Buffy asked to no one in particular, eliciting a tired smile from the Watcher.
"Unfortunately, this is all that I have been able to ascertain in regards to the Harbinger--there is no more…" Giles stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes drawn to the figure standing near the back door. "Jay? What is it?"
All eyes turned towards the slayer and Spike cringed at the terror that was in her eyes. He and Buffy rushed over to her and both instinctively kept their distance.
"Bitlet?" Spike asked. "What is it?"
"It's--the…what Giles said…about Gabriel."
"What about him, sweetie?" Buffy asked.
"I…I know what he is, who he is, but I didn’t get it until now."
"What do you mean?" Giles asked.
"He's a vampire, but an incredible warlock. He was even more powerful than Auntie Willow at her strongest, where she's like a hundred times stronger than she is now."
"Okay, that doesn’t sound too good," the redhead whispered.
"But it's more than that," Buffy said, and she latched onto Spike's forearm painfully.
"I mean, I knew all along, even when I saw him here, but I thought it was something else entirely. It had to be…"
"Jay," Buffy said and the panic in her voice made Spike want to wretch. Her nails dug into his flesh but he remained, even as the first scent of blood wafted to his nostrils.
"The two souls thing made me see. I'm so sorry, Mum, I didn’t tell you earlier but I know it couldn’t have been him, not like he was when you told me…not even without the soul."
"No…" Buffy whispered.
"What's going on?" CJ asked.
"Angel," Jay said.
"What about the Poof?"
"Him and Gabriel--they're one and the same."
Severed Ties
Chapter 19
A Little Somethin to Talk About
She found him in Willow and Tara's room, clad in only his jeans and boots, staring out the window at the fading light in the sky. She marveled at the changes in him. True, it had been well over two years since she had last seen him, even longer since she'd glanced the smooth skin that lie underneath his clothing, but Faith had no doubts that the muscles she traced with her eyes had been gained only through years of training. "Nice view," she said, and stopped just to the side of him. Xander cast a weary glance towards her before returning to the slowly setting sun. Faith studied his profile, noting how his once roundish face was now that of a chiseled warrior, complete with a tailored beard and minute scars that stood out in the faint glow of the pre-dusk sun.
Faith leaned the right side of her body against the wall and folded her arms across her chest. Countless thoughts tumbled through her mind, begging to be heard but she remained mute. Instead, she took comfort in the other man's company; it gave her a calm she had not had in some time. In truth, the last time she had felt this relaxed had been the precious few seconds she and Xander had spent gazing into each other's eyes after their desires had been quenched. Although her attitude had been cavalier as she escorted him out, inside Faith was anything but. Her mind had screamed at her; one side desperately wanting to cling to the potential for something special that the twinkle in his brown eyes had hinted at while the other--the other was terrified of that, remembering Faith's less than impressive experiences with love and loyalty. The latter had won out but there hadn't been a day since that had passed without her wondering what it was she might have lost.
"You know," Xander said, startling Faith from her thoughts, "Anya always bugged me about going out to the beach and watching the sun set. Every time she asked me I promised her that we would someday. And I meant it. But with us both working so much and the new big bad showing up at our doorsteps every week, we never got the chance to do that. And now we never will."
Faith opened her mouth to reply but what could she say to that? She was sorry? Everything was gonna be okay? No, none of those condolences, no matter how heartfelt they were, would fly. Of course, it really didn’t help that she didn’t believe in her own reassuring words. Everything sure as hell was not going to be okay--in fact, she had the feeling that things were about to pull off the ultimate suck job.
"The way I see it," Xander said, and Faith turned her inward focus back to the young man beside her, "a sunrise is like the birth, showing itself to the world everyday like it's the first time. But what is a sunrise without a sunset? It's…it's like having a life that has no ending, no promise of rest." Xander lowered his head and studied the chipped wood of the windowsill. "I guess that night at the Bronze was Anya's sunset. Maybe she was making up for never seeing one. Doesn't matter now, though. She's gone for good. Just like me."
Faith frowned and rested her forearms on the sill next to Xander. She stared at him until his reluctant gaze fell upon her. Pain and anger radiated from his brown eyes and it was something that she was intimately familiar with. How many times had she averted her own gaze from the reflection that stared back at her in order to steer clear of the monster that resided under her flesh? Oh, she knew Xander wasn't that bad by half, still, it was all there and as much as she wanted to hug him and whisper her affections, Faith knew that it would come off sounding false. So she opted for the patented Faith-directness. "No offense, X, but you sound awful fuckin' Mr. Defeatist, you know? You act like you have shit to live for, that Anya was your only reason for living. Look, I'm not sayin' it's easy, what you're goin through--fuck I know it's harder than anything you've ever been through--but this attitude of yours sure as hell ain't the same Xander that tried to reach me, not the same one that was always at B's side…"
"And look where it got me," he interrupted, "your hands around my fuckin' throat, trying to kill me and one dead fiancée, not lookin' very good on the scorecard, would you say?"
Faith wanted to deny his words but she couldn’t. Also, she couldn’t hold back the hurt that ripped through her at the unpleasant reminder of what she had almost done to him in that motel room. She lowered her head, hoping to hide behind her curly mane before Xander picked up her distress. Evidently it wasn’t quick enough because she felt his warm palm graze her shoulder.
The brunette slayer looked up into compassionate eyes, and she was surprised at how quickly his concern had driven away the tumultuous emotions that his behind his eyes moments before.
"Look, Faith, I'm…I'm sorry. I know you're trying to help me and all but…"
"You don’t think I understand." It wasn’t a question and when Xander ducked his head, he confirmed what she already knew.
"You know, Xander," she said, her voice calm despite the fire burning within at the motives behind his placation, "I never figured you for a presumptuous bastard, but here you go, provin' me wrong."
"Faith I…"
She sliced her hand through the air, cutting off his words. She ran shaky fingers through her hair and inhaled the welcome scent of spring air before facing him. "You think I don’t feel? You think I'm just some heartless bitch whose credo is want, take, have?" She shrugged. "Okay, so that used to be my motto and, even now, I may use it from time to time. But that's not who I am, it never was.
"The girl you saw three years ago was nothing more than a façade, a mask I pulled over myself to…to forget. I figured that if I was this bad ass bitch no one'd fuck with me, you know? Wouldn’t have to worry about getting fucked over. And it almost worked, too, until I met you guys.
"Before I came to Sunny D, the only person that showed even the slightest interest in giving a shit about my well-being was Lara, my Watcher. Hell, not even my mother gave a damn, not if she let her--" Faith closed her eyes tightly, wishing away the memories that still plagued her even now. She jumped when rough fingertips tilted her chin up.
"Faith, what is it?"
She smiled at the concern Xander was showing, grateful that she had matured enough not to go on the defensive-binge at such tenderness. It was a weird feeling to say the least.
"Nothing, it's just--I just…forget it. Bad memories is all." Xander nodded and Faith exhaled her relief. But she wasn’t quite done, not yet.
"The point is, Xan, is that you guys--B especially--were the first people I really cared about outside of Lara. It was so cool, that first night at the Bronze, to have people actually listening to you like you mattered. I coulda talked to you guys forever; didn’t even have to be about anything important, just felt good to be listened to. And B, let me tell ya." Faith shook her head as her thoughts traveled back to that time. "It's funny, you know, I knew she was jealous of me, thought I was stealin' her thunder and all that, but I was the one jealous of her. You know why?"
Xander shook his head.
"Because, man, she had it all. She had that tough girl side that kicked ass on patrol but at the same time, she wasn't afraid to let people in, at least from what I saw. You guys saw her insecurities and her doubts and you didn’t think less of her for that. Me? I was too afraid to do that. Even when you and B continued to reach out to me, as many times as I was tempted to just let go, I didn’t. And then there was that time between me and you…" Faith trailed off and shot Xander a shy smile.
"Yeah, that time," Xander said and returned the smile, his cheeks tinged slightly red.
"When we were done, the few seconds afterwards, when I looked into you eyes, I just wanted to…"
"Just wanted to what, Faith?"
Unwanted tears burned in her throat and the Slayer fought them back with all her strength. She knew that they wouldn’t remain dormant long, not with the memories surfacing or Xander's concerned gaze. She could always excuse herself, or change the subject--but that would be running and Faith had done enough running to last a hundred lifetimes. She wasn’t going to start again.
"I wanted to lose myself, Xander, lose myself in you. In your warped sense of humor and studly bod. I wanted to hold your hand and take walks with you. Not only that, but I wanted to hang with you guys. I wanted me and B to sit up in her room and gossip, to have Joyce come in and offer us that hot chocolate she used to make. I wanted to go to school, even have the lil miss Wicca tutor me, if it meant spending time with you all. And I wanted to ask Giles to be my Watcher, so I could stay here. I…" The lump in Faith's throat was too much and the slayer bit her lip, forcing it back down. And it wasn’t until Xander brushed his knuckles across her cheek that she realized that she was crying.
"Why…why didn’t you?" he asked, his voice a whisper that echoed through the silence of the room.
Faith's laugh was harsh and bitter but immediately lost its bite as she spoke. "Why do you think? I was scared shitless. What if you guys didn’t like the real me, what if she was someone you hated? Or worse, what if you did and something happened to you like it did with Lara? I…I couldn’t take the chance…"
It was only by dumb luck that Faith realized that she and Xander were now only inches apart. He must have shuffled closer during her admission and, was it just her, or did some sly fuck turn the temp up about a thousand degrees?
"Could you now? Take the chance?" Faith shuddered as his warm breath caressed her flesh and she held back a groan at their proximity, wanting nothing more than to lose herself in him, even after all these years. But she couldn’t. This wasn’t about her, or even the two of them.
It was about Xander.
"I will if you don’t give up," she said and was relieved when he stepped back, confusion marring his features.
"Give up?"
"Look, X, I know losing Anya hurt more than anything you've felt, I don’t have to experience it to know." She watched his features sink and though she wanted to stop hurting him, it was better for everyone in the long run if she continued. "But it's over and done with…"
"Don’t you think I know that?" he growled, anger clouding his tone.
"Do you?" Faith replied. "Or do you think that tormenting that young girl down there will bring her back?"
"I didn’t say anything to her," he said, although some of that righteous indignation fell to the floor.
"The cruelest words, Xander, are often spoken in silence." Xander wanted to argue, she saw that clear as day, but he reigned in whatever words that were set to spill forth. He lowered his head and Faith let him be for several minutes. She was surprised when he lifted his head, to see a saddened smile graze his lips.
"When did you get to be all philosophical."
Faith smiled. "Lara used to have me read out of this quote book every day. Some of it got lodged in this sticky taffy brain of mine," she said, and tapped her skull.
"Look, Xan, the point is that the cold shoulder you're giving Baby J down there is just as bad as if you were cursing at her. She never got a chance to know most of us, since most of us were dead by the time she was born." Faith laid her hand on Xander's bicep. "Don’t let her only real memory of you be hating her for Anya dying."
"I…I don’t hate her, Faith. It's just that…" he sighed. "I know it's stupid and selfish and--god--oh so with the irrational, but I can't help but blame her. I know she doesn’t deserve it, I know she's been through hell but I just…"
"Need someone that's still around to blame." She read the shame in his eyes and squeezed his arm supportively. "I get that, I do. But it doesn’t always work that way. And something that never works and--yeah, I know it may sound funny coming from me--is holding on to the hate, the disgust, the resentment. It's only gonna eat you alive and we can't be having that. We're gonna need you big time, X. Can you do it?"
The conflict of emotions going through the young man were visible in every twitch of his flesh, every hair on his neck that the spring wind licked at. She saw the acceptance in his eyes yet his jaws hardened in what, she didn’t know. But that didn’t matter now. All that did was that he was going to try. Or at least that's what she thought he'd decided when their eyes locked.
"I'll try, Faith," he said, "I'll try, I promise."
Faith grinned and smacked him on the arm. "Thatta boy," she said before getting serious. "That's all you can do is try. And don’t worry, I have faith in ya." They both grinned at that and Faith patted him on the shoulder before turning towards the door.
"Faith."
"Yeah?"
"I just--I just wanted to say thanks…"
"Five-by-five, X, five-by-five. Besides, it's not like you haven't done the same for me."
"Yeah. And you were right," he said and cast a glance out the window at the sun that had faded below the horizon, "it was a nice view."
Faith turned around and stalked towards him. She fed off his curiosity at her approach and she stopped only inches from him. Giving him a thorough once over, Faith stood on her toes and whispered in his ear. "I wasn't talking about the sunset, Harris." His eyes widened comically and she winked at him before fleeing the scene. It wouldn’t do to ruin her image by falling on her face in hysterics, now would it?
She waited by the steps for him to exit the room and though looked at her in surprise, the warm smile that split his features gave Faith all sorts of naughty tinglies. Shaking those delicious rumblings away, Faith jogged down the steps, with Xander in tow. The talk had been something they both had needed, allowing them to close the door on the past and open a new entrance to their future. Of course, that side door she had inadvertently opened made her insides thrum with excitement but she wouldn’t get too carried away. Things would develop of their own accord and Faith would be there when they were complete. She was through running.
It was time to stand her ground and fight for what she wanted. Even if she wasn’t exactly sure what that was.
Chapter 20
Halo for Horns
She remembered it all: the raw ache when she realized nothing could be done to save her lover, the months of depression that culminated in the ultimate pain when she slammed the sword home and into his gut. She had almost died there; watching him sucked through the horrific maw of Acathla, knowing that it had been her that set the events into motion. She had brought forth this soulless monster and it had been her destiny to put him down.
The pain and guilt had lessened over the years though she wasn’t so naïve to think that it would ever abate. It would haunt her till her final days, the hurt and betrayal that danced in his eyes as he called her name, a question in his tone. She had no answer for him then and still had none for herself that satisfied the closest masochist within her. Somehow, 'it was my responsibility' didn't quite do it. The only solace she had taken during the years that had followed was the monstrous being that wore the face of her first love would never surface again. Angel loved her too much to allow Angelus to ever appear again. That was why he left.
It wasn't until she and Spike fell into one another that Buffy had placed Angel to the back of her mind. In truth, it was kinda difficult to think of anything coherent, much less complicated, in the blonde vampire's presence. At first it had been the comfort of his words as he soothed her or the ear he offered to talk to. After that it had been the overwhelming sensations he soaked her body with. That first night Buffy had known what it had meant to be addicted. It was physical but so much more as well. But it was only during her dreams, when her subconscious fought for dominance that Buffy truly understood how deep her feelings for Spike ran. Of course, it wasn't until she was near death that conscious and subconscious meshed, and she whispered those three words she had felt for so long but denied. Still, sleeping the sleep of the whipped and battered had taken months from their new lives together; time she could never get back. That wouldn’t stop her, however, and Buffy had decided that day when she awoke in the hospital that everyday with Spike would be like the last, she would never deny him her love, not for a second.
That vow had been shattered for one brief moment when Jay had spoken words that Buffy never thought she would have to hear;
Angelus was back. True, he had taken on another moniker, another angelic name, no less, but it all added up to the same. Angel had lost his soul and that had meant only one thing. Truthfully, that thought had disturbed her greatly although the pain of knowing Angel had found someone to give him that true moment of happiness had lasted for, at most, the blink of an eye.By a cruel twist of fate, no doubt, Spike's eyes had fallen on Buffy at that particular moment where jealousy and anger clouded her vision. And that twisted frame of hurt she had seen when Angel was sucked into hell shrouded Spike's marbled features.
Buffy opened her mouth to say something, anything, but he turned back to their daughter, grabbing Jay's hand in his and putting distance between he and Buffy.
"Gabriel is Angel?" Willow's voice broke Buffy's trance and the slayer focused on the problem at hand. She would have plenty of time to talk with Spike about her reaction but now there were more important things to deal with.
"How did this occur?" Giles asked. "I do not proclaim to know Angel as well as Buffy, but I daresay he would never put himself in such a position to lose his soul, not after knowing the destruction he wrought when he lost it."
"You're right, Ripper," Spike said, and Buffy winced at the bitterness in his tone, "you don’t know Peaches one bit. He's a selfish bastard, that one, just like me." Buffy wanted hide when Spike's gaze fell upon her. "Gets caught up in something that's too good to be true, and by the time you suss out the fine print on the warnin' label, 's too late."
"When did this happen, Jay? Who did he lose his soul to?" Buffy asked Inside she was shivering but on the outside she remained calm.
Jay shook her head. "Guys, didn’t you hear me? He didn’t lose his soul, or I don't think he did."
"But I thought you said he was Gabriel," Tara said.
"He is, or was, or…" Jay sighed. "You know what I mean. In my time, he was Gabriel."
"But Angel has a soul," Buffy said, "he wouldn’t do something like that."
Spike and Jay snorted simultaneously, their faces identical portraits of disgust. "It's not about the soul, Mum," her daughter said, and walked over to the island, "but about that person's character."
"And good old Liam never had much of that," Spike muttered.
"While I understand your point, Jay," Giles said, staring at his feet while he polished his glasses, "Angel has proven for quite some time that he is a champion for our side. Were he absent of his soul, that would not be the case."
Jay's hands ran through her hair, a trait she had definitely taken from her father.
"You guys don’t get it," she said. "Just because he has a soul doesn’t mean he can't one day crack up, decide that the good guy thing just isn't for him and go bat for the other team."
"He…he wouldn’t," Buffy said, and instantly regretted it when Spike growled next to her.
"He wouldn’t, would he? Of course Peaches wouldn’t do something like that. He wouldn’t set fire to two vampires, his Sire and Childe, only days after he locked them in a room with a dozen human lawyers. And he sure as hell wouldn’t shag his Sire because he wanted to lose his soul but instead he knocks her up. Oh, he wouldn’t do that…"
"Daddy," Jay warned but Spike continued.
"…Because he has a soul. Is that right, folks? Is that what I'm hearin' you say? Because you all know good old William the Bloody doesn’t have a soddin' soul. What's to say he won't turn back to a killer? Oh, I forgot, the bloody chip up in here." He pressed a finger to his temple. "Doesn't matter if he's still evil now, does it? He's just William the Bloody useless, you know. Can't 'urt a soddin thing, 's as harmless as a baby pup. Innit that right, Slayer?"
"Daddy…" Jay started but was silenced by a vicious glare from her father.
Buffy was reeling from the anger and pain that laced her lover's words. She had thought her declaration of love would wipe away his insecurities but that had been foolishness. No matter how much Buffy loved him, a hundred plus years of self-doubt could not be cleansed at the drop of three little words. It was impossible. But here she was, realizing for the first time just how deep his insecurities ran, how blind she had been to Spike's distrust. Oh, she had known how he had blamed himself for her death, but not this. She needed to reassure him, just as much as he needed to hear it but the lines of communication inside her head choose that moment to not pay the bill and shut down. And instead of reaffirming her belief in him, in them, Buffy said the worst thing possible.
"Angel…and Darla?" The pressure in the room intensified and a cold sensation enveloped the slayer, threatening to devour her bones. She heard Jay gasp and the swirl of air to her left. She knew without saying what had happened but still Buffy had needed to confirm it with her own two eyes.
Spike was gone.
"Great," Buffy said, "just great."
~~~
He needed to get out of there.
It had been bad enough when Buffy's hazel eyes had shone disappointment at the knowledge of Angel finding that true moment of happiness again. But after Spike's little tirade, she hadn't even had the decency to toss a 'shut up, Spike' his way. Instead, her first thought had been of Angel. He knew she'd been confused by the anger in his tone and, per Buffy's usual, she had focused upon the information he had so spitefully given. Still…
"Bloody wanker," he muttered as he slid his arms into the duster and slammed the front door closed. He had sensed Harris and the other slayer coming down the steps but his mind had been so clouded by emotion that he paid them no heed. He did, however, glance at the two figures walking from the black convertible parked in the driveway.
"Spike," Angel said but Spike ignored him. Without stopping, the platinum blonde hurried down the street, all too aware of the fierce whispers conducted behind him before the familiar presence of his Sire fell in line behind him. Spike shook his head in disgust and pulled a cigarette from his pocket. The myriad of emotions playing war inside of him caused his hands to shake and it couldn’t hold them still long enough to light the ciggy. Frustrated, he hurled the unlit fag into the air and stalked further into the night, well aware of the footsteps that were his companion.
He needed to kill something; needed to rip into muscle and bone. And maybe then he'd be able to deal with it all. But until then, he was going to impart pure, unadulterated violence on the denizens of the underworld.
After all, a bloke had to have something to look forward to.
~~~
"Far be it from me to state the obvious," CJ said as his eyes bounced off the six individuals spread out in the kitchen, "but am I missing something here or what?"
"No," Dawn said dryly, "you're all caught up on our soap opera lives. Except about Buffy's ex, who happens to be a vampire, going all Darth Vader when he gets a happy. Or the fact that he and Spike really don’t like each other and that…"
"Dawn," Giles said, "do be quiet. Buffy? Are you all right?"
The Slayer turned towards her Watcher, her hazel eyes burning in frustration and guilt. She opened her mouth to speak but two other figures entered the room.
"So, what's up with the Blonde and the Beautiful?" Faith asked and hopped on to the island. Buffy glanced at her sister slayer and then to Xander, who leaned against the doorway. He smiled and Buffy returned the sentiment, albeit half-heartedly before making eye contact with Faith.
"He left."
"I know that, B, but he didn’t look too keen about whatever went down when me and Xand were upstairs."
"Oh, I don't know," Willow said, "it may be the tiny little fact that Gabriel and Angel are the same person…er, vampire."
"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Cordelia asked as she pushed past Xander and into the kitchen.
"Hey, Cordy," Buffy said, her voice deceptively calm. "Where's Angel?"
The seer shrugged. "He went after Spike for whatever reason."
"I see."
"Why? Is something wrong?"
"Well," Jay said, and glanced between the other room occupants, "guess I've got a lot of explaining to do."
***
He heard them, the two vampires, talking. Their words were harsh and severe to one another, ignorant of their surroundings. They both stunk of righteousness, although the one had no soul. He followed their voices until they came into view. He bit back a gasp of surprise when he saw the face of his Master on the dark-haired vampire. The shock quickly wore off however, as he remembered that Gabriel had cautioned him about this. Until everything was complete, until he completed his part of the sacrifice, killing this angelic incarnation of Gabriel would resound throughout the temporal fabric, erasing the Gabriel of the future from existence. Such effects would be profound and even he wasn't sure the effects it would have on a demonic transplant from Quortoth. But did it matter? He was here for one purpose and one purpose alone; raise havoc and strife before killing those that stood by the slayers but not touching the slayers themselves.
But Gabriel had said nothing about sparing the blonde vampire, though, did he?
Algolagniar smiled, his jagged teeth glistening in the moonlight. He would have his fun with the two vampires, killing the blonde one and allowing the other to gather reinforcements. That was when the slaughter could begin. It had been too long since he'd reveled in a good massacre.
***
He had spent the last thirty minutes trailing close behind the younger vampire, waiting for Spike to break the silence. It would do no good to strike up a conversation with the sullen blonde. Angel knew that much from experience. When Spike was in one of his moods, it was of one's best interest to hide. Even during his tenure as Angelus, Angel had never really crossed sullen Spike. Of course back then, with Dru at his side, those moods were few and far between but when they did surface, Angelus respected (for the most part) young William's sulky temperament. And that had been when the younger vamp would have been no match for his centuries old Sire.
Now, if it was to come down to it, Angel wasn't entirely sure that he could best Spike in a fight, so he had taken the 'caution, better part of valor' approach.
The sharp crack nabbed the elder vampire's attention and Angel rolled his eyes at yet another destroyed headstone. Number three on the night. Annoyance flared up within him and before he could bite his tongue, Angel spoke.
"That's it," he said, "kill the dangerous tombstones. I guess they were planning some particularly nefarious scheme to open the Hellmouth."
Spike whirled on him, all platinum and leather (Big Bad, world, here me roar) and stalked up to Angel, stopping inches before making contact. The scowl that would have frightened most did nothing but help drive the irritation from Angel's mind and he scarcely had the control to bottle his amusement as he looked down at the shorter vamp.
"Got somethin' to say, Peaches? Cause if you do, I'd really like to hear it…oh, wait a minute, I think not." Spike sneered, glancing at Angel in disdain and the latter knew that Spike was looking for a legitimate reason to start a brawl. He wasn’t thinking straight, that much Angel could tell. Fortunately for the both of them, an afternoon spent with Cordelia in his arms had calmed Angel to the point where he could overlook the festering contempt that Spike always seemed to bring forth in the elder vampire. It had nothing to do with the knowledge that Cordelia and Buffy would kick he and Spike's collective asses if the two vampires traded blows. Nope, nothing at all.
Angel snapped out of his thoughts when Spike turned away to flounce into the night. He caught up with the livid vampire in three strides, placing his hand firmly on Spike's shoulder. The younger vampire came to a halt and Angel swore, knowing that it had been a hasty action.
"You know," Spike said, his voice frighteningly calm, "in a hundred plus years of existence, 've found that it's quite beneficial to 'ave two hands. Not to say that some blokes can't get along without two meathooks, but generally, 's not a good idea." He turned his head slowly and Angel saw the gold flecks that warred with blue as Spike's demon clawed dangerously close to the surface."And judging from the 'no fun' clause of that soul of yours, mate, I wager that you need all the fingers and hands you can get." Spike nudged his head in the direction of Angel's hand and the latter acquiesced, removing his hand.
"What's with the tortured act, Spike?" Angel asked as they resumed their walk through the cemetery, only to stop again when Angel's question sunk in.
"Torture act? What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just what it sounds like. You've been skulking through town for the last half hour with that 'I just got my favorite toy taken away' look."
"I. Do. Not. Sulk!" Spike shouted, and slammed his heel into another headstone, shattering it with a reverse crescent kick. When he turned back to Angel, the fire in his cerulean eyes had been muted but Angel knew that the violence to an inanimate object was nothing more than a temporary fix.
"That makes four," Angel said. "Were they the Four Horsemen or something equally dastardly?"
"Sod off," Spike said and walked past Angel.
"Where are you going?"
"Somewhere where you aren't, ya big poof."
"Spike…"
"Leave me be."
"I will," he said and cut in front of the younger vampire, "when you stop acting like such an ass."
Spike's laughter carried through the night, and the honesty behind it startled Angel.
"I'm actin' like an ass, Peaches? Oh, that's rich, Angel. Comin' from you no less, 's bloody hilarious, considerin' you're tha soddin' poster boy for what 's like to be a grade A ass. Pot--kettle, mate, pot--kettle."
Angel pinched the bridge of his nose. Not being around his Childe for so long had given Angel time enough to forgot how quickly Spike was able to grate every last nerve in his Sire's (or anyone, for that matter) body.
"How is it that Buffy hasn't killed you yet?" What had been meant as a sign of irritation and, for all intents a joke (although there was a bit of scientific curiosity inlayed in there as well) was taken as anything but. Outstanding grief washed over Spike's face before everything but the faintest sorrow in his eyes was closed off. It was the only clue that Angel needed.
"It's about Buffy, isn't it? Something happened between you two."
" 's really none of your business, mate," he replied coolly and slipped an unlit fag between his lips.
Defensive Spike 101, Angel thought and mentally smacked himself. God, I think I've been hanging around the Scoobies waaay too much. The snap-hiss of a lighter drew Angel's attention and he watched as Spike took two quick inhalations before exhaling a steady stream of smoke.
"You know," the blonde said, "I really don’t get it. What's so bloody special about you?"
"Aside from the fact that I was the only vampire in history sloppy enough to get cursed with a soul?" Spike glared at him. "Okay, bad joke, but not far from the truth."
"So you think you're special?"
Angel opened his mouth to respond immediately but didn’t. It was a good point. Did he think he was special just because he was cursed with a soul? It wasn't by choice that he received it, so how could he be special? Most would call him unlucky but Angel had come to realize that without the soul, he would never have met Buffy or the Scoobs. The LA Gang either. Yeah, there was the whole Shanshu prophecy but who said that it was him? Maybe, if he hadn't received the soul another vampire would have been cursed with one or, however far-fetched it seemed, asked for one. Fat chance of that. No vampire in his right mind would ask for a soul. Angel felt Spike's eyes boring into him and shivered. It was just a passing thought but the possibility of Spike asking for a soul was…well, it was ridiculous. With that said, it was Spike and he definitely fit the criteria for doing the absurd.
Shaking off the thought, Angel looked Spike in the eyes. "No, I don’t think I'm special, unique maybe, but not special."
The answer threw Spike off kilter but he hid it admirably. He shrugged, took another few puffs before chucking the fag to the ground, extinguishing it with the toe of his Doc Martens.
"So, this helping the hopeless gig, this supposed connection to the Powers I've heard about doesn’t make you feel all warm and cuddly with yourself?"
"Spike, just because someone is destined to do something doesn’t make them special. Just as having a soul doesn’t make someone good."
"True. They could always lock a dozen lawyers in a room and let two vamps chow down in an all you can eat buffet." Angel winced and the smugness returned to Spike's face.
"Or just like a soulless demon would allow himself to be tortured by a hell god for his mortal enemy and her little sister…"
"Who told you?" Angel smirked inwardly at the panic in Spike's eyes.
"I know a lot of things, William."
"Except that your once honey was shaggin' a soulless demon, right?" Angel mood darkened, all traces of humor gone. He knew he was playing into Spike's hands, giving the younger vamp the exact reaction he'd been looking for but Angel didn’t care. Even with Cordelia, being reminded that Buffy was with Spike, regardless of what he told her last night was… it was still unnatural.
"You're never going to grow up, are you?"
"I beg your pardon…"
"No," Angel said, "you won't. Everything has to be a competition with you, Spike, doesn’t it? You knew you never had Dru, so what did you do? Tried to make a name for yourself killing slayers. Then you flounce into town, see that I have your potential third and instead of trying to kill her, what do you do? You go and fall in love with her. Only problem is, just like Dru, she's still…"
Angel knew the punch was coming but did nothing to stop it. Spike's fist slammed into the right side of Angel's face, knocking him to the ground. The platinum blonde stood over the fallen vamp, his chest heaving and while Angel's demon cheered for the opportunity to fight, the other part of him was ashamed. He had attacked Spike where it hurt the younger vampire the most, his pride and insecurities as to his self-worth.
"Spike…"
"If you even think of finishing that sentence, I will rip your bloody heart out through your eye sockets."
"I'm sorry." Even as he said the words, Angel nearly gasped in surprise. But surprise didn’t do justice to the gawking that Spike did, anger aside. Angel took advantage of his Childe's shock and stood up, wiping the blood from his busted lip.
"Look, Spike, what I meant to say, earlier was that it doesn’t have to be this way. Doesn’t have to be a competition between us."
Doesn’t it?"Doesn’t it?" Spike asked and Angel almost laughed at the echo of his own thoughts. "As you so expertly pointed out, Angel, you had Dru first, you had the fame and notoriety and I 'ad nothin'. Just the affections of a raving lunatic that every time she got her knickers in a twist so gleefully reminded me that I'd never be her daddy. I was never rough enough with her or cruel enough to satisfy her for long stretches without her pining for you…"
"Spike, I…"
"No, don’t you dare! It's your fault, you know. You made her. You let her make me, and for the last hundred and twenty years I've lived in your bloody shadow. I am fuckin' sick of it!"
Angel was stunned. He had always known that Spike resented him, but to hear it firsthand, to see the emotion swimming in those nearly soulful eyes rocked the vampire to the core.
"And the Slayer? Yeah, she loves me; I'm not a complete idiot on that. She does. But let her soulful knight enter the picture and I'm nothing more than convenient again. You know she told me that once, that I was convenient. Helluva thing to say to someone you just shagged all bloody night, innit, Angelus?"
"Spike," Angel said, and forced his voice to remain even, commanding, "you're talking crazy."
"Am I?" Spike stalked towards Angel, stopping short just inches from the latter's chest. His smiled cruelly although Angel saw the pain that threatened to spill out at any time.
"Then tell me, Peaches, why after finding out about you playing for the other team in the good old future, that the only thing Buffy manages to do is ask about you and Darla."
Angel grimaced and Spike saw it clearly. For several seconds the air filled with the stench of hatred and Angel braced himself for the inevitable blow. It never came.
Instead, Spike backed off and regarded his Sire with prodding eyes. Angel overcame the urge to turn away, meeting the resigned azure liquid gaze with…with what he didn’t know. Spike turned away first, showing his back to Angel. When he spoke, for first time in a hundred years, Angel wanted to hold Spike and beg forgiveness.
"I know I don’t deserve her, Angel, I do. There're blokes out there better 'n me, waitin' for someone like 'er to come along. And if I could, I'd give 'er to the best one of 'em. But I can't. Call me a soulless demon if you will, doesn’t matter, I'm too selfish to let 'er go. Know why? It's not 'cause I know no one can love 'er better 'n me. 'S 'cause I made 'er a promise to never leave."
"I know, Spike."
"An' no matter what, I'm not gonna leave 'er 'for 'er own good', 'm not gonna make that decision for 'er. If she wants to be rid o' me, then so be it. But if she doesn't send me away, I'm gonna stay 'ere till they put 'er in the ground…or I'm dust in the soddin' wind. 'm never gonna 'urt her, 's long as I can 'elp it." He turned towards Angel and the elder vampire was in shock when he saw the tears that welled in Spike's eyes.
"She's all I've got, Peaches, 'er and the Nibblet and Jay. Without 'em…without 'em, I don’t know what…" A harsh sob caught in Spike's throat and Angel was torn between comforting the peroxide blonde and letting him be. His nurturing instincts took over, however, and he took two steps towards Spike when he felt it.
"Spike--" Angel said and whirled around.
Just in time to see a purple form land in front of him and a large fist fly towards his face.
The last thought that raced through Angel's mind as he crashed into a headstone was that he'd never get the chance to make amends with Spike.
***
"So, let me get this straight," Xander said, "in the future, something happens to Angel, he goes all evil Willy without the loss of his soul, and goes all Kull the Conqueror on the world?"
"That about sums it up," Jay said.
"Okay, but no one has answered why exactly Angel goes crazy," Cordelia said.
"Evidently," Jay said, "it has something to do with me."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, Mum and Dad had regular contact with Angel up until I was born. After my birth, they didn’t hear from him again."
"So, somehow your birth affected Angel," Tara said. "But that still doesn’t explain the prophecy about him having two souls."
Jay sighed, knowing that this particular part would be especially difficult for Buffy. Although she wished Spike was here, in a way she was glad because, Buffy's probable reaction would hurt him, too.
"About two years ago, this law firm in LA got its hands on some ancient scrolls on something called the Raising."
"The…the Raising?" Giles asked. "Are…are you sure?"
"What's this Raising?" Buffy asked.
Giles stood and stroked his chin as one hand sunk into the pocket of his slacks. "The Raising is a ritual where a vampire who has been destroyed can be resurrected. Several offerings must be made, one of which is the sacrifice of five vampires."
"Is that what the Master's followers were trying to do?" Buffy asked, her voice an uncertain whisper.
"Not exactly. In the Raising, from what I understand, the vampire resurrected will not arise as a vampire at all, but a human."
"A human?" Willow asked.
Giles nodded. "He, or she, would appear as they had been the moments of their final breath."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, that if one was dying from, say, cancer, before being sired, then he or she would be resurrected with the same affliction."
"So what does this have to do with Soul Boy?" Xander asked.
"Darla was resurrected," Buffy said. Her voice was hollow, bare and she shook the thoughts away when the others looked at her. "Spike…before he left, said something about Angel and Darla…" Buffy stopped in mid sentence and turned disbelieving eyes towards her daughter.
"They had a child, Jay, didn’t they?"
"Wait," Faith said, and walked over to Buffy, "you didn’t know?"
Buffy bit down the anger that welled inside her yet it resounded in her tone. "Obviously I wasn't important enough for him to impart that particular piece of info to."
"Geez, B, I thought he would have told you last night when you two were all kumbaya on the front porch."
Buffy opened her mouth to argue but closed it. She did remember him saying that he had to tell her something, something that would piss her off. But she had no idea it would have been this. Angel, with a child? The fact that it hurt, badly, was no surprise. The shock had been that it didn’t hurt as much as she would have thought.
Can't worry about that now, though, she said to herself and erased the pain from mind and body, allowing the slayer to emerge.
"Okay," she said, once more in command of her faculties, "Angel and Darla had a kid. What's that have to do with Jay?"
"From what I understand," Faith said, "a few months ago, the little cherub was kidnapped, taken to this demon dimension by this guy that experienced first hand the wrath of Angelus a few centuries ago."
"What?" Buffy asked.
"And I think that when I was born, somehow the dimensional walls allowed him to be freed."
"And I'm guessing," Xander said, "that spending your formative years in some cracked out hell dimension, not conducive to non-psychotic behavior."
"From what I could gather, from Emerald and other sources, Connor, Angel's son, came through the Quortoth portal and…"
"Quortoth?!" Giles exclaimed.
"Something wrong, Giles?" Willow asked. "Aside from it being a hell dimension and all."
"From what has been written about it, Quortoth is one of the most brutal, vile hell dimensions there are. However, unlike most, Quortoth is habitable to humans such as us, but it purportedly changes those who enter on a fundamental level."
"And how is that?" Cordelia asked.
"Honestly, I do not know."
"So," Buffy said, and turned towards her daughter, "what did Connor do to Angel?"
"I'm not totally sure, but he somehow, I guess took over Angel. No one, not even Emerald really knew."
"But you know enough to know that you're the only one that can stop him," Buffy said.
"Yeah. I think we're connected somehow, I just…there's a lot of unanswered questions about a lot of things so…"
"Algolagniar," CJ whispered, the word breaking into the already tense atmosphere.
"What was that?" Dawn asked.
When he looked at her, for one brief moment, he and Dawn were connected in ways that he had never imagined. Visions of Dawn, draped in emerald light, holding him, pulling him from the darkness, guiding him to a better place, filled his mind. The thought that he loved her, wholly and completely, played over inside his mind, a cacophonous symphony that refused to die. He wanted to say it to her, cover her body in his as he drove the point home…but he didn’t. And as his restraint held his tongue, CJ felt the moment disappear, leaving only traces of it, senses of that déjà vu that had haunted him his entire life.
"CJ--" Dawn said, worry evident in her tone. He felt her thin fingers against his thigh and shook his head, brushing away the haze of confusion.
"Yeah?"
"What just happened?"
"What do you mean?"
"You kinda went catatonic-Buffy for a minute there," Buffy said. On his confusing look, she shrugged. "It was a thing."
"Are you sure you're okay?" Dawn asked, stroking his leg, her brow twisted in a worried frown.
CJ smiled wearily and patted Dawn's cheek, "I'm okay, Em, really I am."
All traces of a smile vanished when several pairs of eyes stared at him in shock.
"Who's 'Em'?" Cordelia asked, her eyes drifting from Xander to Buffy to the others.
"Beats me," Faith said, and shrugged. "I only work here."
But before anyone could speak, Buffy and Cordelia stiffened, and their eyes met. The room burned with power as something the others couldn’t discern passed between slayer and seer.
"Buffy? Cordelia?" Willow said, and glanced at Tara for reassurance before facing her two old friends. "Are you okay?"
The question seemed to snap both of them out of the daze and when they glanced back at the group everyone saw the sheer terror written across both women's faces.
"Buffy…" Dawn said, and stood. She walked over to her sister but did not touch her, afraid to disturb the slayer. "What's wrong?"
"Daddy…" Jay whispered and all eyes turned to her. "It's gonna kill him."
TBC in
Melee…