Abomination
Some say the slayer is an abomination
Season 8, episode 19
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
 

“To be honest I didn’t hold out much hope that you’d be The Slayer. But you will be my instrument,” Cemtaur said and leaned down to stroke Faith’s hair. “Whether you want to or not - you’ll be their undoing.” (8.16)

“There’s something else,” Buffy added. “Xander got the sense that he wasn’t the only one.”

“The only one what?” Giles asked.

“The only mole.” (8.17)

“How’d we do?” Willow asked.

“Seven,” Buffy replied.

“Seven?”

“Casualties.”

Willow was quiet for a moment. “That’s- that’s seven.”

“Yeah. And it actually gets worse.”

“Worse?”

“Faith’s gone.” (8.18)

“Hello Willow,” D’Hoffryn said. “So good to see you again. But enough chit chat. You took everything from me. Did you honestly think that I of all beings would fail to seek vengeance? I want you to have something. Something I took from you.”

“You know what? Keep it,” Willow said, apprehension growing at the back of her skull.

“No, I could never be that selfish,” D’Hoffryn said. Suddenly, his face was replaced by a rapid series of images. But they weren’t just images. They were memories and as she watched they inserted themselves into her mind. The Wicca group. Hiding from the Gentlemen. The floating rose. Spike punching her. “She’s my girl.” “I’ll always find you.” “I don’t think this is going to work.” “Can we just be kissing?”

“Your shirt.” (8.18)

“Cemtaur,” Faith said. “Can I kill him?”

“Too late.”

“Why do you get all the fun?” Faith said, jumping off the slab.

“Cause I remain conscious?”

“I’m never gonna live down the coma girl thing am I?”

“Tell you what- I won’t mock you about your coma predilections if you let up on my vampire fetish.”

“No deal,” Faith replied and exited the cave.

Buffy was about to follow when a piece of paper caught her eye. She grabbed it, stuffed it in her pocket and followed Faith. (8.18)

“We beat the big bad,” Rona said. “Be happy.”

“That wasn’t the big bad,” Buffy replied. “Cemtaur was the muscle. And his death won’t stop them.”

“Who?” Willow asked.

“The Watchers.” (8.18)

“But the Watchers and just guys,” Faith said. “No big, right?” she added and turned to Giles.

“Well, yes,” he replied. “Physically they’re pathetic, but intellectually…”

“Not impressed,” Xander said, wrapping his arm reassuringly around Faith‘s shoulder. They’d beaten the bad guy. Faith was alright. Nothing was going to get him down. “We don’t need smarts. We’ve got Willow.”

“That might not be the soundest philosophy,” Giles replied.

“Got me through High School.”

“But why would the council- a notoriously anti demon organization- make a deal with Cemtaur?” Anya asked.

“Desperation?” Giles offered.

“But Cemtaur had an in back when I knew him,” Spike replied. “He knew about the Crucia…whatever.”

“He’s always been theirs,” Buffy said, staring intently at the table before her. “I don’t know what they had to give up to keep him on retainer but he was their fail safe. When a slayer went bad they called on him.”

Giles looked over at her. “They have their own people for that.”

“Humans, even multiple humans with weapons isn’t a safe bet. Clearly,” Buffy said, gesturing at she and Faith’s still very alive bodies. “He’s the failsafe.”

“Well, it is a likely supposition,” Giles conceded. “But I don’t know how you can be so certain.”

“Just am,” Buffy said without meeting Giles‘ eye. She wanted to be alone, talk to Faith, think. But she couldn’t come up with an excuse to get everyone out.

“That would explain why we can‘t find much info,” Willow said. “Our records were all filtered through the council.”

Dawn turned to Faith. “You don’t remember anything about what he did to you?”

Faith shook her head. “I don’t remember anything after walking into the sewer,” she replied. “But I’ve got these little puncture wounds, so that’s a fun souvenir.”

Spike watched Buffy nod quietly and try to catch Faith‘s eye. He looked around the room. No one seemed ready to go so he made a big show of yawning. “Well I for one could use some sleep,” he said.

“Best plan ever,” Anya agreed and stood up from the table. “I’m exhausted.”

“You didn’t even do anything,” Dawn said, following her.

“That’s not true,” Anya replied. “I was here making ready for the triage. It was quite trying.”

The rest of the group filtered out of the room, leaving Faith and Buffy slumped next to each other at the table.

“You thinking’ what I’m thinking’?” Faith asked.

“Hagen Das would really hit the spot?” Buffy asked.

“Actually, I was thinking that being tied up on an altar just isn’t as much fun without the whips.”

“TMI, honey,” Buffy said with a smile.

“No such thing. I’m still waiting for any MI outta you.”

“And you’ll keep waiting.”

“Can’t help but notice you two walked into breakfast together.”

“At the same time. Not together,” Buffy clarified.

“But you didn’t have that ‘screwed the sense of balance right out of my head’ stumble. So either he’s not very good-”

“He’s plenty good,” Buffy said defensively. “Excellent even. We just- aren’t.”

“Sure. You just sleep chastely in each others arms.”

“Exactly.”

Faith looked at Buffy in shocked horror. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my God, when are you taking your vows? I mean, I didn’t even know you were Catholic.”

“I’m not becoming a nun.”

“How can you sleep next to that and not want to-”

“It’s complicated.”

“No. It’s insert tab S into slot B.”

“Ugh. Thank you. That was beautiful.”

“What? I’m just sayin’- it’s not that hard.”

“Like you and Xander have made it much farther.”

Faith smiled shyly. “I kissed him.”

“Seriously?” Buffy said. Both girls leaned in closer, giggling like any normal teenagers, only the streaks of blood on their skin gave them away. “On the lips?” Buffy said incredulously.

“No, on the cock. How much of a hussy do you think I am?”

“Well you have tried to seduce every single one of my boyfriends.”

Faith started to protest but gave up quickly. “Yeah I’m a total slut bomb. But I don’t want to just throw him at the bed and go at it. Not again anyway.”

“I know what you mean. Casual sex just isn’t as much fun as it looks on Showtime.”

Faith blinked disbelievingly at Buffy. “No. You did not go sowing your wild oats all over Sunnydale. There‘s no way.”

Buffy shrugged. “Well, it was just the one guy.”

“Spike,” Faith guessed.

“Hence the complicated.”

They both sat in silence for a few moments until Faith finally said, “So, maybe we should talk about what we’re not talking about.”

Buffy sighed and looked down at the scrapes on her hands. “I want to say he wouldn’t,” she began.

“But,” Faith said.

“But I’ll never forget that feeling- that sick feeling in my stomach when I realized he’d poisoned me,” Buffy said. “It was like- Like the last bit of the little girl I was before Angelus just curled up and died.”

Faith continued to stare straight ahead. “Maybe the other watchers didn’t tell him,” she offered.

Buffy nodded. “Sure, he had two very troublesome slayers in his charge but no one told him they had this demonic hit squad, even as a threat.”

Faith looked down. She wanted it to be wrong. She wanted to yell ‘La la la can‘t hear you’ to the mistrustful voices in her head but she had always wondered why Giles had offered to be her watcher. He claimed it was an honor, but Faith knew that couldn‘t be true. She’d always suspected he just wanted to keep an eye on her, in case she went bad. In case he had to kill her. “He did know about my fake dramatic departure,” Faith said.

“But he didn’t know it was a ruse,” Buffy added.

“He knew I was training Xander.”

“He knew I was away in Africa.”

“Lot’s of people knew this stuff,” Faith said. “Maybe we’re jumping the gun. Juts because he was a watcher-”

“There’s also this,” Buffy said, pulling the piece of paper she’d taken from the cave out of her pocket.

Faith took it from her and scanned it. “Training schedule,” she said.

“In Giles’ handwriting,” Buffy replied.

“Right, ok. We just need to assume he knew and that he didn’t tell us and that he only offered to be my watcher to keep an eye on me-”

“No, no,” Buffy said, shaking her head. Hearing Faith put it so bluntly shocked her out of her daze. “I can’t believe he would do that. He was a watcher, sure. But he loves us.”

“Right,” Faith replied. “Just like he loved his son.”

After the fight it was all hugs and tearful reconciliation, but Fred could tell something had changed. Willow left the cave a different girl than when she entered. She made excuses, headache, tired, needed to be alone. All reasonable. But as she walked back to her room alone, Fred couldn’t help but feel that a gulf had widened between them.

Willow lay alone in her bed for the first time in months and felt more lonely than she ever had in her life. But it wasn’t the absence of Fred that she felt. It was the absence of Tara. Having her memories restored was like losing her all over again. It seemed she was always losing Tara. She was defined by it.

The memories were still swimming around in her mind. They tumbled over each other, sorting and reasserting their position in her mind, in her self. She drifted on them, rising and falling with the swells of grief. How had she ever forgotten this? Love like this. Grief like this. It was so much of who she was. The loss of Tara had destroyed her. Made her a monster. That night it had almost made her kill Buffy. ‘This must be what it was like for Spike,’ she thought, ‘when he realized what The First had made him do. It’s like waking up and realizing you’re not at all who you thought you were.’

Buffy walked up to her apartment, stopped briefly to check on Dawn, and continued on. Every step was heavy with grief and exhaustion. But she knew it would be better as soon as she got to her room. When she got there she knew she’d find Spike. And he’d hold her and stroke her hair while she fell asleep. And everything would be better. But when she opened the door to her room it was empty.

In his fantasies he was suave- no, not suave - not sophisticated- just confident. He was cocky. He smirked and cajoled and gave her come hither looks. In his fantasies it was always before. Before the bathroom. In the world of after even the idea of bringing up sex with Buffy seemed too pushy. Jokes about orgies were all fine and good, but now that they were together, now that it was a possibility, he panicked every time they kissed. At first he was able to hide it pretty well, forget the past and pretend they were like any normal couple. But lately it had been harder. Being with her scared him so bad he was sorely tempted to make up a story about Angel needing him in LA and fly away. He hated himself for being so weak. Hated the demon for having brought them to that point, and hated the desperate man for not having stopped it.

All of which explains why he was not in Buffy’s tastefully decorated room, but rather lying awake in his bleak quarters planning exit strategies.

He was startled out of his self pity by Buffy’s feet on the stairs that led up to his room. Maybe she’d just burst in and stride across the room and straddle him. Couldn’t be accused of coercing her then. But the foot steps sounded more annoyed than horny. Maybe she’d get so annoyed that she’d throw him on the bed and rip his shirt off. A boy could dream.

Buffy stopped in the doorway of his bedroom. “Hey, asshole.”

Spike looked up warily. Was this serious anger? “Baby, you know I said those things out of love.”

“I know,” Buffy replied as she kicked the door closed. “But I could use a little less cruel to be kind and a little more kind to be kind.”

Spike stood up and wrapped his arms around her. “How is my love?” he said soothingly.

Buffy smiled and looked up at him. The smile quickly faded.

“What?” he said.

“I want to trust you,” she replied.

“I wish I could say I was hurt, but you’ve got no reason to.”

Buffy buried her head in his chest. “Not what I wanted to hear.”

“Ok, I promise I would never do anything to harm you.”

“Not even if you thought it was for my own good?”

“Pet, you know I don’t believe those things I said, just didn’t want you shutting down again.”

“I know, ok? This isn’t about that.”

“What is it then?”

Buffy eyed him again.

“What?” Spike said. “You can trust me. Even if I did harbor a secret hatred for you I wouldn’t team up with the smelly old men’s club.”

Buffy took a deep breath. “I think-” she began. “We, Faith and I, suspect that maybe Giles is our mole.”

Spike was shocked for a second, then he nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Again, not what I wanted to hear.”

“Ok, Giles loves you and would never dream of hurting you.”

“Unless he thought the new world order was some sort of abomination.”

“Unless that.”

“And that’s not even the worst,” Buffy said. “I can’t even think about the worst cause I’m too busy worrying about the next worst.”

“Ok,” Spike said. “And the worst that’s not the next worst is-”

Buffy looked at him disbelievingly. “The dead girls.”

“Right. Right. I knew that. It’s been a long day.”

Buffy lowered her head and pressed her forehead against his chest. “I’m so tired of this feeling. It’s like a piece of my heart fell out,” Buffy said. “Seven. Seven pieces.”

Spike held her closer and stroked her back.

Buffy turned her head, rested her cheek against his chest and concentrated on the feeling of his hand on her skin. After a few minutes she yawned and said, “We can sleep in your room if you want.”

“I like your room better,” Spike replied.

“Cause it’s frilly and girly and reminds you of home?” Buffy said with a playful smile as she turned toward the door.

“If you’re just gonna disparage my manhood all night-”

“No, no,” Buffy hastened to say. “No disparaging. Come on, I wanna talk.”

Spike reached out to touch her shoulder.

“What?”

“Just makin’ sure you’re not the first.”

“What? I can want to talk?” Buffy said as she led him to her room.

“No. Not the natural order of things.”

“I can be reticent and standoffish if it’ll make you happy.”

“Yes, thank you. I always enjoy that.”

When they arrived at her bed she collapsed into it and Spike crawled in after and wrapped his arms around her.

“It’s starting,” she said in a low voice.

“What?”

“The war. It’s last year all over again. They’re going to die and I’m going to watch and I don’t think I can take it again.”

“You won’t have to. Won’t be like that. They’re stronger now.”

“Not strong enough,” Buffy replied. “Not strong enough so they‘ll all survive.”

“I know. How ‘bout a new topic? I could tell you how much I love you.”

Buffy smiled. “Ok, why do you love me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Buffy sighed deeply. “Selfish. Needy and yet distant. Workaholic. Not too bright-”

“Ok ok, sorry I asked,” Spike said. “I love you because you’re-”

“Don’t say one hell of a woman.”

“But it’s true.”

“No, it’s meaningless. Be specific.”

“You glow.”

“Specific and literal.”

“I am being literal.”

“I don’t glow.”

“Sure you do.”

They argued for a few more minutes, Buffy’s retorts getting slower and more nonsensical all the way until she was fast asleep.

Dawn lied. A lot. In the days since they’d recovered the book she’d been asked about it a hundred times. And her answer was always, “On it.” Sometimes she threw in a weary edge so they’d imagine her staying up all night, toiling away at the translation and feel guilty for bugging her. But she wasn’t so much ‘on it’ as ‘as far away from it as she could get.’

Everyone - even Willow and Giles seemed to have decided that it was her purview. So, the book stayed in a box under her bed the first night. But its presence kept her awake. So every night after that it was locked away in the library. Still, like the green glowy princess and the pea, she could feel it though the floors and space between them. It wasn’t calling to her. It wasn’t repelling her. It was just there.

The next morning Dawn tried to put the box out of her mind and concentrate in finding the perfect outfit for school. Stressing over clothes was almost comforting after her restless night. It made her feel normal. She was a girl with seventeen pairs of shoes and none that looked good with her new skirt. Just a normal girl. With a sister who didn’t know how to knock.

“So, sister, friend, hey remember that time I died for you?” Buffy said casually as she walked into Dawn’s room.

Dawn turned away from her closet and replied, “No you can not borrow my green sweater. Buy your own.”

“Like I’d wear anything of yours,” Buffy answered. “I just-”

“Are you casting dispersion on my wardrobe?”

“Dispersion? No. No, honey. I love that you think the eighties are back.”

“The eighties are back. If you got out more-”

“This is so not the point. Look, I need to know what we’ve got in the way of truth spells.”

“Don’t we usually have meetings to discuss this kind of stuff?”

“Yes, but having a meeting where we tell everyone about our plan to figure out who the traitor is just sounds silly.”

“What if it’s me?” Dawn asked. “Didja think of that?”

“Sure, but hey, remember that time I died for you?”

“Oh, see this whole conversation is falling into place now. I do remember and I would never betray you,” Dawn said solemnly, then perked up. “Does that mean I get to head up the witch hunt?”

“We’re not calling it that.”

“So, no burning people at the stake?”

“No.”

“You’re no fun.”

“So I’ve been told. What do you have for me?”

“Wait. Do we trust Xander?”

“Yeah.”

“Andrew?”

Buffy paused. “For now.”

“Good cause they already heard my brilliant plan. You know how in the other reality-”

“Which one?”

“The one where I didn’t exist.”

“Right.”

“Anyway, Clem could tell the vamps were saying girl, but thinking sister. Maybe he can tell if they’re saying ‘loyal to the Slayer’s Council’ and thinking ‘loyal to the Watcher’s Council.’”

“That’s brilliant. I totally forgot about that. Can you find him?”

“Already did.”

Faith woke with a start and looked anxiously around her room. For a minute she was surprised at the walls. They weren’t concrete. And there were no bars on the windows. She relaxed back into her soft mattress. “Not in prison. Can’t take me back,” she whispered. “Safe-” Her mantra was cut off by a loud knock at the door. “Come in,” she hollered.

The door swung open to reveal Xander with a tray full of breakfast. Faith’s eyes went wide in delight. Pretty boy with food. “Eggs?” she asked excitedly.

Xander nodded. “Eggs, hash browns, and pancakes.”

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” Xander said as he put the tray down and sat on the edge of the bed. “My mother passed this recipe down to me.”

“Meaning she gave you the phone number of a breakfast place that delivers.”

“Please. I put more effort into it than that,” Xander scoffed. “I had to drive to get this spread.”

Faith smiled and sat up a bit more. “You’re so good to me. Can I expect this every morning?”

“Nah, just the mornings after you’ve been kidnapped.”

“Then I’ll have to get kidnapped more often.”

They ate in silence for a few moments before Xander got up the nerve to be serious. “I’m glad you’re ok.”

Faith shrugged. “A little bondage. A little ritual blood letting. Not near enough to keep me down.”

Xander kept smiling but the phrase ‘blood letting’ had set at dull throb in his heart that he knew would go away if he could just hold her. But she was clearly naked under the comforter, and he had blown most of his bravado just showing up with breakfast.

Faith watched him for a few seconds, cocked her head to the side and said, “Am I going to have to make all the first moves?”

Xander nodded. “Yeah. Probably. I hope that’s not a prob-”

“No problem,” Faith answered and reached across the plates to pull him in for a kiss. Xander wrapped his arms around her and ran his hands over her beautiful, live, safe body.

After a few moments they pulled apart, slightly breathless. Xander stared at her for a few moments, amazed that they were together, amazed that they were touching. Amazed at how long he had been staring without saying anything and amazed at how creepy he was being.

“So,” Xander finally said in his psuedo suave voice. “What was it- the sexy assault and battery or the cool eye patch that made me so irresistible?”

Faith grinned and leaned back to appraise him. “Well, I do like my S&M, but gotta say the biggest turn on was you in that mesh top.”

Xander hung his head. “What mesh top?” he asked. “I remember no such thing.”

Faith smiled and draped her arms across his shoulders. “If I asked nicely would you do your sexy dance?”

“Nooo. No dance. I don’t know where you’re getting this.”

“Come on, I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.”

Xander let loose the sigh of a man severely put upon. “Fine, I’ll go get the top.”

It had been a few days since Dana had attacked her, but Buffy was still a little wary of walking into her room. She wanted to go in unarmed, show that she trusted her. But she also wanted to live to see Dawn graduate, so before opening the door she strapped a small dagger to her leg.

Dana was sitting on her bed, reading a book. One of the watcher’s diaries. Giles thought it might help her to separate the past from the present.

“Hey,” Buffy said. “Like the book?”

Dana looked up. “Dov’e il cimitero?”

“Or maybe the books will just confuse you further.”

Dana looked at her quizzically and set the book aside. “You’re Buffy,” she said.

“Right. Do you know who you are?”

Dana nodded. “I think I’m Dana. Not Isabella. Dana.”

“Right again. You’re doing really well,” Buffy said, hating the patronizing tone in her voice.

“I get confused,” Dana said.

“It’s like you’re really them.”

Dana nodded. “It’s better than being me.”

“I get that,” Buffy said and sat down on the bed. “Must be interesting, all those historical details. Bet you’d skate through a history major.”

Dana nodded. “I like knowing what they think. It makes me less lonely.”

“It’d be nice if you could do that trick with watchers.”

Dana looked up quickly. “The watchers are bad.”

Buffy was a little taken aback. She expected Dana to have some bad memories of the watchers. Hers and Faith’s if no one else‘s. But that she would so quickly decide that they were without exception bad...

“Do you remember anything about a demon, ‘bout eight feet tall, horns, olive green?”

“Cemtaur,” Dana said with a small shudder.

“He worked for them, killing the ones they couldn’t take care of themselves.”

Dana nodded. “But first he prayed on them, tortured them. It was his payment.”

“Clem!” Dawn cried.

“Hey baby boo,” Clem answered and threw his arms out.

Dawn wrapped her arms around him and held tight. “How have you been? Where have you been?”

“Oh you know, spent a lot of time in Reno. Visited relatives in Saskatchewan.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Yeah. What about you? Still fighting the evil?”

“Same old same old.”

“Well you’ll be happy to know I’m off kittens for good.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Dawn said.

“Thanks, so what’s up?”

“Well, we need you to do a little interrogating.”

“Oh, want me to make my scary face?”

“No, no,” Dawn answered quickly. “This is more- covert.”

“Hello. I’m Clem and I’ll be- um- questioning you.”

“Ok,” Spike replied. “I do actually know who you are.”

“I know, but I have to say the same thing with everyone or it lacks scientific credibility.”

“Is that so?”

“That’s what Dawn said.”

“Well, Dawn is very smart.”

“Yeah. Pity about her face,” Clem replied. “Now. A few baseline questions. Where are you from?”

“London.”

“Hey. That’s where we are. You’re home!” Clem exclaimed.

“Yes,” Spike said with a nod. “The accent never gave it away?”

“What accent?”

Spike smile grimly. “You’re our investigator.”

“Yep,” Clem said cheerfully. “Wild huh?”

“Wild.”

“How was your interrogation?” Buffy asked as Spike walked out of the library.

Spike ran his hands over his face and threw his arms out. “Long. The interrogation was long.”

“Aw, poor baby,” Buffy murmured and opened her arms.

Spike took a seat beside her and rested his head on her shoulder. “He asked a thousand questions,” he said mournfully.

“You were in there five minutes.”

“He asked them fast,” Spike replied, then sat up. “Hey, why don’t you have to be questioned?”

“Because I knew Faith’s running away was just a diversion.”

“Oh, so you two are just above reproach.”

“Yep.”

“Seriously, you think you can trust Faith?”

Buffy thought for a moment. “No. There’s no one I trust without reservation. But I know she’d never side with the watchers.”

Spike turned to look at her. “Your life is so sad.”

“Thanks.”

“I just mean the lack of trust thing.”

“I know. But it is how it is.”

“You’re too forgiving. That’s your trouble. If you didn’t take in so many murderers you’d have better friends.”

“I don’t want better friends. I want my friends.”

“If it is Giles…” Spike said hesitantly.

Buffy nodded quickly and replied, “Yes.”

“You don’t know what I was going to say.”

“You want to know if I could kill him. And I could. And if it comes to it I’ll kill Faith and Dawn and you and Xander and Willow… There‘s no one I couldn‘t kill. I guess I can‘t really blame him for all the times he hurt me for the greater good. I‘d kill him for the greater good if I had to.”

Spike looked at her, the fear etched on her face. “Well I’m not particularly fond of Giles myself so-” he offered.

“Would you think I was a terrible person if I said I might take you up on that?”

“Not at all,” Spike replied, pulling her close. “Cheer up love. I’m sure it’s, I don’t know- the janitor. So we’ll kill him and it’s just a bunch of old guys standing between you and a holiday for two.”

“They aren’t just a bunch of old guys.”

“Come on, how much damage can a gang of geriatric humans do?”

“A mere mortal killed Tara and sent Willow on a murder spree.”

“So – someone keep a close eye on Fred and we’re good.”

“Exactly,” Buffy said and for a moment he thought she was agreeing. “They know us. They know everything about us, about the Slayer. Our abilities. Our fears. Our weaknesses. For years they had access to everything. Giles’s diaries, Merrick’s diaries...”

“Merrick?”

“My watcher before Giles,” Buffy explained. “But the thing I’m most worried about is the girls having to kill humans. It changes things.”

Spike was trying to think of something comforting to say when Megan ran up to them, paper flapping in her hand. “Guess what? Guess what?”

Spike shrugged and answered with faux excitement, “Mauve is the new teal?”

Megan didn’t even pause to roll her eyes. “We got the address.”

Buffy shot out of her chair and grabbed the paper. “We got the address?”

“Yep. This old guy showed up at the cave about an hour ago and we just followed him.”

“He didn’t see you?”

“Nope. We pretended to be lost tourists.”

Buffy reached out to hug Megan and stared disbelievingly a the page. “We have the address. I can’t believe they messed up like this. We are so totally going to kick their wrinkly asses.”

“We need someone on the inside,” Buffy said as she walked confidently into the training room.

Faith delivered a punch-kick combo to the dummy and turned to Buffy. “Wow, it’s like you’re some sort of tactical genius,” she replied.

“I am, I know exactly who to send.”

“None of us can get in. The most likely defector was me and we already played that card.”

“No. We need someone who can be one of them.”

Realization slowly dawned on Faith’s face. “Carmen. But she needs to inject the person she‘s changing into.”

“Not a problem,” Buffy said, holding up the address. “We’ll just kidnap us a watcher.”

Giles wasn’t a fool. He could sense the change. On the surface Buffy and Faith were all smiles and friendliness. But he knew. For whatever reason, they’d stopped trusting him. He wasn’t too worried about regaining their confidence, though. It wasn’t important anymore. The only important thing was getting everything in place. Once he’d done that, none of it would matter. It would all be over before they even knew what was happening.

Cynthia sighed dramatically. Why were the living so rude? They always disappeared and left it up to her to greet the guests. Luckily, she had gotten quite good at it. Through careful study she had determined the perfect greeting.

She slowly appeared through the floor at red girl’s feet, forcing her face up, becoming clearer and more three dimensional as she rose. But the girl didn’t notice. She just looked around the room as if trying to read the walls.

“Boo!” Cynthia finally shouted.

Carmen didn’t start, or scream, or wet herself, or do any of the things Cynthia was so fond of. She just looked down at and smiled. “Are you real?” she asked.

Cynthia furrowed her brow and rose completely out of the floor. “Of course I’m real. What are you?”

Carmen smiled and replied, “Oh you know, everything. Nothing. I wonder, if I became you, would I die? Course there‘s nothing to inject so I suppose….”

“Uhuh. One of the humans will be with you shortly,” Cynthia replied and flew away.

Giles couldn’t quite recall, but he was almost certain they hadn’t invited Insync to play in the library, which is why he was at a loss to explain the long queue of girls that had formed in the hall. They certainly weren’t there out of a desire to learn; they all plodded through their studies as unwillingly as Buffy had.

He turned to the nearest one. “What’s this?” he asked.

Lor turned to him disinterestedly. “We’re waiting to be questioned by the wrinkly demon.”

Giles knew it made him look comically old fashioned, but he couldn’t help it, his eyebrows shot straight up. “What?”

“He’s psychic or something,” another girl interjected.

Giles turned to look at the door.

“Do you have to be questioned?” Alejandra asked.

“Well, I, I already was,” Giles replied.

Lor furrowed her brow. “Then why didn’t you know what the line was for?”

“I mean. Later, I’ll be questioned later. I have to go,” he fumbled and walked briskly away.

Carmen was delighted with the house, the rooms, the people. So many strange people. She was just itching to sample them, find out for example, why the scrawny little one thought his hair looked good like that.

The rest of the group was not quite so delighted. The way she looked around in awe, like a member of some lost tribe experiencing Disneyland for the first time, was cute for a while, but the distracted way she paused before answering each question got old.

“Ok. How long does it take for you to change physically?” Buffy asked.

“Depends on the creature,” Carmen replied. “You know- how different it is. Hey, what‘s that made of?”

Xander looked up to where she was pointing. “A chandelier. Crystal.”

Carmen smiled delightedly. “I was crystal once, or my name was Crystal…”

Buffy took a deep breath. Maybe she wasn‘t a tactical genius after all. “What about a human- a male human.”

Carmen looked at her for a moment, trying gamely to process what she was saying.

“How long will it take you to turn into a male human?” Xander asked

“Oh, totally? Physically? Two days maybe.”

Faith watched silently while Buffy and Xander questioned Carmen. She wanted to pitch in with the strategizing, but she couldn’t seem to concentrate on infiltrating the watchers. She was much more interested in ripping Carmen’s hands off. No hands. No touching. No touching, no more slyly stroking Xander’s arm.

“What is it with you and girls who’ve tried to kill you?” she demanded as soon as Buffy left to take Carmen to her room.

“Carmen didn’t try to kill me.”

“Yes, she’s so perfect. So much better than me.”

“What?”

“What are you even doing here? Go play with your freak.”

“Ok,” Xander said, laughing slightly. “This is cute.”

“No this is perverted. She’s halfway to being a old man and you’re getting it up for her?”

“Ok, less cute. More ew. I am not in any way up. I don’t feel anything for Carmen.”

“Whatever.”

“Faith- You’re insane. Carmen is nothing to me. I love you.”

Faith turned to stare at him. “Excuse me?”

“Ok, not insane. Insane clearly not what I mean-” Xander began.

“Fine, whatever,” Faith said and stormed off.

With Clarkson, their watcher, drugged and Carmen slowly aging and growing facial hair, the group fell into a holding pattern.

Xander took the opportunity to avoid his problems with Faith. It was time for a little manly relaxation. He paused at the door of the rec room, held his hands up and announced, “We ready for some football?”

Spike looked up from his position on the couch. “No,” he replied.

Xander wanted to retreat. He had been hoping Dawn would be there. She didn’t really like football but they always had fun laughing at the commercials. But if he walked away now Spike would know he hadn’t wanted to spend time with him – not that that’d be a huge revelation. Still, Xander didn’t want to be rude. “What are you watching?” he asked as he walked into the room.

“Eastenders.”

“The soap opera?” Xander said with a dopey grin.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. It’s just so rare that I get to be the most manly man in the room.”

Spike looked up cooly. “A lot of very manly men watch soaps.”

“For example.”

“Me.”

“Right,” Xander said, sitting beside him on the couch. “Who are they?” he asked, gesturing toward the screen. “And what‘s with their hair?”

Buffy paused at the door. Going to the kitchen had seemed like such a good idea. Get some food. Take a break. Getting eviscerated by her best friend was not on the agenda. She and Willow hadn’t talked since the big revelation, which was fine with Buffy. She had no idea what to say and she was not a little frightened. Her plan had been to avoid Willow for at least another couple days, but there she was, sitting at the kitchen table, staring at her tea like it might talk to her at any minute. Before Buffy could sneak away Willow looked up at her.

Buffy smiled, took a deep breath and walked in. “Um, Are we ok?” she asked hesitantly.

Willow shrugged and offered a false smile. “Yeah. I mean, I remember. I remember Tara knocking me out. And I’m sure you couldn’t work the Lethe’s Bramble spell yourself…”

“Still… I could have stopped her.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Willow said a little too forcefully. “She’s gone. I have to deal with that. Sorry about the selfish bitch comment.”

“Hey, it was pretty accurate.”

“No,” Willow replied, looking down her hands. “I’m the selfish one. I expect everyone to do as I will. And when I’m in pain- other people’s lives stop mattering.”

“This time was different,” Buffy pointed out. “You didn’t kill anyone.”

“Yay me.”

“Yes. Yay you. You didn’t give in. You wielded immense power and dealt with the worst experience of your life and Xander didn’t even have to break out the sappy anecdotes. It was all you.”

Willow smiled a bit. “Yeah. I guess so.”

“So everything’s ok.”

Willow tried to agree and just go along for the sake of not arguing. But her mouth wouldn‘t let her. “It’s always ok for you,” Willow said quietly. “You lose your lover and he comes back from hell, or inexplicably has his life restored. For you, Spike, Xander, death is just an inconvenience. But me…”

“Do you want- If you want to try to get her back,” Buffy offered. “Whatever it takes. I’ll help.”

Willow shook her head. “No. No. I know- I know it’s wrong. I know I can’t just yank people back. That’s not the point.”

“I don’t know what else I can do,” Buffy said. “I can’t make it not have happened. I can’t send them back. Do you want me to kill Spike?” Buffy said, then thought better of even suggesting it. “Cause I won‘t. That wasn’t like an offer. It was for argument’s sake… just to… Don’t kill Spike.”

Willow looked up at her. “Do you really think I’m that spiteful?”

“Well, no I just want to-”

“Never mind. I know I am. We all know I’m fully capable of that. But, God I don’t want to be,” Willow said, tears falling down her cheeks. “I don’t want to be this horrible person. I want to be over this. I want to be better.”

“You are. And you have Fred,” Buffy said quietly.

Willow choked back her sobs. “Yeah.”

“I mean, unless you don’t-”

“No, I still love her. I just- She’s not Tara. All I can feel is the absence of Tara. And the worst part is- I wish I could go back. Back to not remembering. Isn‘t that awful?” Willow said with a sob.

“No,” Buffy said and sat down beside her.

“I just want to stop being the grieving widow. I‘m twenty two for Christ‘s sake. I want to be a girl again.”

“I want to be - cocky,” Spike said before taking another swig of beer.

Xander raised his bottle. “That’s a beautiful dream man.”

“You don’t understand.”

“True. But to be fair I’m drunk and you’re a freak so-”

“It used to be easy. I’d just swagger up to Buffy, cock my head to the side, leer suggestively and-”

“I get it. The explaining can go away now and never come back.”

“But I can’t do that anymore. You can’t just say, ‘Get on me.’ to a girl your slightly more demonic self tried to rape.”

Xander cringed at the word. And for a moment, through the alcohol induced camaraderie, the old familiar Spike hatred was back. And all he could think of was the bruise on her thigh and the what if- what if she hadn’t been strong enough?

Then Xander looked over at Spike’s lowered head and the hatred was- not gone. But lessened.

“Come on,” he said with forced cheerfulness. “You guys used to banter about sex all the time.”

“That was before it was a possibility. Before I knew she loved me.”

Xander nodded. “And as incomprehensible as that is- she does. And she forgives you.”

“But she shouldn’t.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“You don’t understand.”

Xander looked at Spike cautiously. “You know that if you hurt me she’d end you painful, right?”

“What? That’s it,” Spike said, grabbing the bottle from Xander. “I’m cutting you off.”

“I’m making a point,” Xander said and grabbed the bottle back.

Spike eyed him. “A point that’s going to make me want to hurt you?”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose,” Xander said as a preface.

“Did what?” Spike said, sitting forward in his chair.

Xander suppressed a gulp and soldiered on. “I was possessed by a hyena. I can’t be held accountable for my actions. And, little side note, she doesn’t have to kill you. She might be so angry she’ll starve you till you’re a vegetable.”

Spike growled. “What actions?”

Xander looked down at the floor. “I tried to- “

The beer bottle burst in Spike’s hand and Xander scooted down the couch. “I didn’t have to tell you. I’m trying to make you feel better.”

“Knowing you tried to rape my girl is supposed make me feel better?”

“Made sense at the time.”

Spike took a deep breath and started picking the shards of glass out of his hands. “Ok, so I’m supposed to feel what- some sort of demonic rapist solidarity?”

“No, you’re supposed to realize that it wasn’t your fault.”

“That what you tell yourself? The hyena made you do it? Did the hyena make you try to rape anyone else?”

Xander shook his head.

“So it was just the girl you fancied. Interesting.”

“My personality may have driven it, but I would have never tried to hurt Buffy. Neither would you. That sick feeling- like you want to cut your cock off and run it through a meat grinder. The demon did that to you. You‘re- not just as much a victim, but a victim.”

Spike shook his head. “No, none of that matters. It’s too much-”

“God you’re annoying.”

“Thanks mate.”

Xander paused at ‘mate.’ He had half a mind to mock Spike for suggesting that they could ever be friends- but he let it go. “You used to follow her like a- like a vampiric moth to a blood flame. You wouldn’t let anything stop you. You fought for her over and over, now that you’ve got her is not the time to give up. You have to make this work.”

Maybe it was the booze, but Xander was kinda making sense.

“Please leave a message after the tone.”

“Damn,” Giles said into the receiver. “I’d hoped to catch you at home. Anyway, listen, remember the trip I told you about- for work? It looks like it’s going to have to be a bit sooner than I’d hoped. I’m sorry about dinner. Another time.” He paused for a moment and wished he’d taken the time to think through what he wanted to say. Now his time was running out and he was just rambling. “I love you,” he finally blurted. “And I’m sorry- for everything.”

He hung up the phone, picked up his bags and walked out the door.

Buffy was standing in the foyer watching a bizarrely effeminate watcher harass a ghost when Xander walked up.

“Do you want to have sex with Spike?”

Buffy eyed Xander. “Please tell me you’re not suggesting a threesome.”

“No, Faith would kill me. Or want to watch. Either way- no goodness for me. Answer the question.”

“Well, yeah. I mean-”

“Then you should tell him that.”

“I think he knows,” Buffy replied.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure he thinks you’re some sort of pure goddess, completely devoid of naughty thoughts and he doesn’t want to…upset you.”

“Upset me, why-?”

“Cause of the bathroom.”

“Right. The bathroom.”

“We should talk,” Buffy said as she entered Spike’s living room.

Spike looked up at her. “About your slayerly angst?”

“No. About us,” Buffy said, taking a seat beside him.

“Course,” he said. “Relationship talk. Fun.”

“There are things we should deal with,” Buffy said. “You know, stuff from the bad year.”

“I think I liked it better when you were all taciturn.”

“Isn’t there any relationship thing you’d like to talk about?”

Spike took a deep breath. Xander was right. He had to make this work. “Are you ever afraid I’ll hurt you?” he asked.

“No,” Buffy replied.

“I mean do you think about-“

“I know what you mean. I told you – I don’t think of you that way. You’re not that monster. Not anymore.”

“I look like him. I have his memories.”

“Are you afraid of me? Afraid I’ll beat you again?” Buffy countered.

“You know I like a little pain with my pleasure,” Spike answered with a leer.

“Be serious. I beat you unrecognizable.”

“That was different.”

“How?”

“I goaded you. I wanted it. I could have fought back – I chose not to.”

“The fact that you weren’t fighting back doesn’t actually make it better.”

“Whatever. It’s over.”

“I just- I want you to know that I’m sorry.”

“I know babe. I know. Saw it on your face. I always knew. You were lost.”

“Yes, lost,“ Buffy said, growing quiet. “The way I treated you- It wasn’t about you. You know? It was me. All that year- I wanted to die. I couldn’t stand my body- couldn’t stand being trapped in this corpse. I actually ran a bath and got out the razor – I don’t know how many times.”

“Buffy please,” Spike whispered. The image killed him. In his mind it was his misery, his skin the blade sliced through.

“But I was scared. Scared to die. Scared Dawn would find me. So I went to you.”

“For comfort,” Spike said, a little pleased to know their trysts weren’t just sex.

“For death.”

“What?”

“I think- I think deep down I thought that if I pressed hard enough – if I hurt you enough you’d kill me. Like you promised.”

Spike looked down, his fleeting joy gone. It was worse that he had imagined. It wasn’t even sex to her. It was all an elaborate suicide attempt.

“But it didn’t work,” Buffy continued. “You took it all and never gave up. And after a while I guess I stopped going with death on my mind and started going to feel loved. To feel worthwhile.”

“When did it change?”

Buffy looked up at him. “Around the time we broke up.”

“I see. You started to have feelings for me so you had to break up with me.”

“Yes,” Buffy replied simply.

Spike nodded. He had no idea what to do with this information. “Why not just throw a fight with some demon?”

Buffy shrugged. “Vanity? I couldn’t lose to just anyone.”

“I see.”

“And maybe deep down I didn’t want to die, I did and I didn’t. And maybe I always knew you were safe on some level.”

“But I wasn’t- Safe.”

“No,” Buffy said. “But you are now.”

Spike looked at her, searching her face for any hesitation. But there was none. She believed what she was saying. She believed in him. He continued to look into her eyes, cocked his head to the side, and gave a little leer.

Buffy smiled and looked down for a moment, then back up, coyly. “Are we ok?” she asked.

“Race you to the bedroom,” he answered.

Carmen walked confidently into the room. She completely forgot all the things that the strange people had told her. Don’t sway your hips, King’s English, blah blah. She had tried to explain, but none of them understood. She had tried to tell them that once the transformation was complete none of their lessons would matter. She wouldn’t be able to do anything out of character. She loved that part - the point at which all doubt ceased- when she became just the barest ghost hiding inside this new, fascinating person.

“As you are all probably aware, the abominations have killed Cemtaur,” Harold announced.

“Thank God,” a man to Carmen’s right muttered.

“Samuel, do you have something to say?”

“I said- Thank God,” Samuel replied, growing bold. “Making pacts with beasts like that- it’s disgusting.”

“It takes a monster to fight a monster,” Harold replied. “But that is neither here nor there. Cemtaur served his purpose. We have but to access the source’s realm and destroy it.”

“The source?” Willow asked. “What source?”

“Are you sure you didn’t miss hear them? Maybe they said horse,” Xander offered.

“No, they didn’t,” Buffy replied. “They mean our source. The demon who’s heart created the slayers.”

“The one who gave back Spike’s soul,” Dawn said.

Buffy looked to Faith. It was the only thing she could think to do. The only person who could possibly understand.

Faith met Buffy‘s gaze. She’d never even seen Blue, but when Buffy had described her she felt an almost instinctual familiarity. Like the way long lost relatives claim to feel when reunited.

“So killing the source- It ends the slayers?” Dawn asked. “Like whoosh- no more super powers?”

“I don’t think so,” Willow replied. “If the slayers were merely conducting her power any of them would have worked as a tracking device.”

“Why did he need Faith?” Xander asked.

“The power that chooses the slayer has to monitor her, right?” Willow said. “So it knows when she dies. It wasn’t watching Buffy after her first death, or her second death would have triggered a third slayer. And all the new slayers were called through the scythe, they aren’t connected back to the source in the same way.”

“Ok,” Faith said. “I’m just gonna assume that made sense and move on. So, we’re talkin no new slayers.”

“Right,” said Buffy. “Then they can just wait for us to live out our tragically short lives and it’s over- no more slayers.”

“No more slayers,” Xander said. “No more humanity. How can the watchers possibly consider that a win?”

“They’re afraid,” Buffy answered. “They think we’re the bigger threat.”

“So, plan,” Dawn said with a nod.

“Plan is- we get there first,” Buffy replied. “We protect her.”

Getting back to Blue’s dimension was easy. Buffy remembered the spell and she was getting used to blood lettings. As soon as the ritual was complete a portal slowly opened before them. Buffy and Faith stood at the front of the group and watched the image of Blue’s cave grow larger.

“Shit,” Faith said as it became apparent that the watchers were already there.

“Come on, come on,” Buffy said, willing the portal to open faster. Inside the watchers moved closer to Blue. She was yelling something, trying to fend them off, but there were two men chanting in back, blocking her spells. The four watchers in front suddenly lunged forward and stabbed Blue over and over as the portal finally reached full size.

“No!” Buffy screamed and ran forward. Before she reached them the watchers disappeared, leaving Blue twitching on the ground.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Buffy murmured. “Willow!”

“It’s too late,” Blue rasped.

“No, no. It can’t-,“ Buffy sputtered.

“You have to end it.”

“What? End what? Ok, when the life is fleeing your body - not the time for the cryptic.”

“Sorry. Habit,” Blue said weakly. “The war. You have to push them back once and for all.”

“What? All the demons? That’s impossible.”

“You have to. No source - no new slayers. You have to end it now.”

“I can’t,” Buffy whispered. “I- we’re not nearly strong enough.”

Blue shook her head and reached out to stroke Buffy’s face. “You think you know- what you are- what’s to come. You haven’t even begun.”

“What does that mean?” Buffy yelled. “I am so fucking tired of this. What am I? What’s to come?”

Blue smiled up at her for a moment, then her smile faded and her eyes went blank.