Blood and Water

Season 8, Episode 12

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Spike looked out at the overcast evening. “I don’t belong here,” he said.

“You were born here,” Anya replied.

“You know what I mean. Neither of us have ever been a part of the group.”

“And I think that makes us special. We have our own outsiders club. We’re like James Dean,” Anya said. “Except not dead. Well, me anyway.”

“I’m like James Dean,” Spike countered. “You’re like – Lucille Ball.”

Anya crossed her arms and jutted her chin forward. “I could be James Dean,” she said. “If I had the jacket,” she added and turned to look at Spike. “I see your point though. Why are you here again?”

“To help.”

“Not the Glen Close level obsession with Buffy?”

“No, to help against Cemtaur,” Spike reiterated. “Why are you here?”

Anya shrugged in response. “Where else can I go?”

“You’re lowering your guard,” Faith said.

“No I’m not,” Xander replied.

“Yes you are. I can see it. Every time you land a blow you do a little mental happy dance. It leaves you wide open.”

“Then how come you haven’t taken me down?” Xander retorted.

“Pity,” Faith replied. “Now focus.”

“Can’t. Hungry.”

“Hungry?” Faith said and looked down at her watch. “You ate five hours ago.”

“Yes, an insanely early breakfast. Now it’s time for lunch,” he said patiently.

“Breaks are for sissies,” Faith replied. “I thought you wanted to be a fighting machine.”

Xander cocked his head to the side and looked at her quizzically. “I’m not sure why. All I said was, ‘Hey could you give me a few pointers?’ Not lookin’ to go pro.”

“Fine,” Faith said. “Go eat if you must.”

Xander darted for the door before Faith could change her mind and nearly collided with Buffy. “Hey, how’s it going?” he said and kept walking.

“Good, good,” Buffy replied.

As soon as he was behind her a huge grin spread on her face.

“What?” Faith said as she unwrapped her hands. “You and Cheek Bones finally get it on?”

Buffy ignored the question. “Xander and Faith sittin’ in a tree-“

Faith rolled her eyes. “How did I get the rep as the immature slayer?”

“K-I-S-S-I-‘

Faith tried to stay angry but a smile fought its way onto her face. “It’s not- Shut up,” she, looking down at the floor. Before she could stop herself, her eyes turned up to Buffy’s. “How’d you know?”

“Please,” Buffy replied, leaning up against the pommel horse. “Your desperate attempts to keep him here, the way you tossed your hair as you sparred and that has got to be the least supportive sports bra I have ever seen.”

“What? I like this top,” Faith said, looking down at her cleavage.

“And I’m sure Xander likes it too.”

“Really?” Faith asked a little shyly.

“Well he likes you and he likes breasts so-“

“He likes me?”

“No, he just likes getting beaten up by girls. Why do you think he was here all morning?”

“Actually, I just thought he liked getting beat on by girls,” Faith replied.

“Well there’s that too,” Buffy said. “When you gonna ask him out?”

Faith eyed her for a moment. “You sure you want me to? Not the world’s most stable girlfriend.”

The smile slid off Buffy’s face. The whole strangling thing had sort of slipped her mind. This Faith was so different from the old Faith. Buffy shrugged, “Well, threats of dismemberment and all that.”

“Right,” Faith replied.

Buffy wanted to explain, tell her that it wasn’t personal, the Scoobies always threatened each other’s significant others. It was a thing. But that wasn’t entirely true. She hadn’t threatened Fred. It was unthinkable to Buffy that Fred would hurt someone, Faith however…

Before Buffy could think of what to say Xander popped back in and said, “Hey, wanna get lunch with me?”

Buffy turned to smile at Faith. “You know, I just ate, but you to go. Have fun.”

While the rest of the house had morning training, Spike and Dawn slept. Dawn, because she’d gotten no sleep the entire week due to finals. Spike, because he was still on LA time. Which is why they found themselves silent, awkward, and alone in the kitchen that Saturday morning.

Dawn decided to ignore the giant pink elephant in the room and prepared her cereal as if there was nothing unusual about Spike’s presence. Spike, in typical Spike fashion, decided to tackle it head on, tusks be damned.

“So, did dying to save the world get me any forgiveness points?” he asked.

Dawn spun to face him. “What?”

“Do you forgive me?” he repeated conversationally, hoping he didn’t sound too desperate.

“There’s no point system for forgiveness.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Dawn looked at him coolly. “I don’t think you want me to.”

“Fine,” he said, trying not show his disappointment. “What do I have to do?”

Dawn had no idea how to reply. Logically she knew Spike was different. He had a soul, he was a champion. But every time she tried to see him that way her mind flashed back to the dent in the wall. She couldn’t not remember that it had taken a month for Buffy to stop jumping anytime someone walked into the bathroom. But then again, there was that face. That tough guy face that barely concealed the little boy looking for affection.

“Take me shopping,” she finally said.

“I’ll be redeemed in your eyes if I buy you things?” Spike replied and shook his head. “Summers women and their shoes.”

“No,” Dawn replied. “But it’s a start.”

“Hey, whatcha doin’?” Buffy said as she walked into the library.

“Playing the xylophone,” Anya answered without looking up from her book.

“What’s the book?”

“A History of Sweden.”

“Seriously?” Buffy replied.

Anya looked up at her and said matter of factly, “It’s where I’m from.”

“Oh. Well, I think that’s great,” Buffy said. “Looking for your roots, it’s somewhat out of character but, hey.”

“Passes the time,” Anya said.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room.

“Do you think you have any family left?” Buffy finally said.

“I doubt it.”

“Don’t you want to find out for sure?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know – they’re family.”

Anya thought for a moment. “It might be fun. I could show up and announce that I’m they’re great to the power of twelve aunt, they’d slam the door in my face and I’d go home. Hm, maybe I’ll do that after lunch.”

“Well, you’d have to be more tactful than that,” Buffy said. “Tell them you’re from a distant branch of the family, you’re doing research. Ask if they know any family lore.”

Anya considered it for a moment. It sounded kinda nice, having friends outside the Scoobies, people who didn’t know all the horrible things she’d done. A family meant people who couldn’t turn you out – people who couldn’t treat you like an outsider. You were by definition an insider “In the family.” And you had a role. Mother, sister, daughter. You couldn’t be just a hanger on, if you were part of a family.

“Maybe I will,” Anya said softly. “Later, maybe.”

“Can I help?” Buffy said.

“Why?”

“Because you’re my friend,” Buffy said.

“Barely,” Anya replied.

“No. Totally. Come on-”

A smile spread across Anya’s face. “I get it. You’re just trying to avoid Spike.”

Buffy scoffed. “I am - not – entirely. I also really want to help.”

“No one has records that go back that far,” Anya said. “Family’s useless anyway.”

“Come on, I bet that fancy library at King’s Cross will help us.”

“I feel like a freak.”

“You look like a freak.”

“Can’t we shop at night like normal people?” Spike whined as he peeked out from under his umbrella at the passersby.

If any of them thought his gloved, sunglass clad form huddled under an immense black umbrella on a perfectly nice day was odd – they didn’t show it.

“You mean normal vampires, and no. It’s part of your penance.”

“Couldn’t I just wear a hair shirt or something?”

“No,” Dawn replied. “What’s a hair shirt?”

“Not sure, but I’ll bet Angel has one I could borrow.”

“Oh, H+M. We have to stop here,” Dawn said and practically skipped into the store.

“Aren’t you a little young for that?” Spike called after her.

Dawn turned to look at him quizzically, then brightened as she realized what he meant. “H+M, not S+M.”

“Course,” Spike said and followed her into the crowded, brightly lit store. “You know, redemption is over rated.”

“It’s not hopeless,” Buffy said, walking as quickly as she could to keep up with Anya.

“It’s beyond hopeless. It’s pointless.”

“So they don’t have records here,” Buffy said. “Doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“The librarian laughed at us.”

“Yeah. She was mean,” Buffy replied. “Oh-“ she said, stopping suddenly. “I know what we need.”

Anya turned to her. “A time machine?”

“No, a Willow.”

“Ok, here’s how it works,” Willow said as she placed a mirror before them on the library table. “This mirror becomes a sort of time machine. We can’t go back – but we can look back. All we need is something resembling coordinates.”

“Yes, yes. I’m thinking,” Anya replied. “There was a lake – I know that. And a forest. It was cold.”

“Oh,” Willow said. “I know what you’re describing.”

“Where?” Buffy asked.

“All of Sweden,” Willow dead panned. “Come on.”

Faith and Xander sat alone in a café downtown. They weren’t on a date. Neither of them had said date. It was just coffee, still Xander was so nervous he thought he might vomit. He was absolutely certain that if he opened his mouth, he would make an ass of himself. So he sat silently. Not a huge improvement. Still, better than accidentally calling her fat.

Faith was unnerved by the silence. Was he bored? Scared?

She wanted to scream.

Wanted to yell at the top of her lungs.

Wanted to tear the pit of anxiety right out of her chest.

But that was old Faith. New Faith just tapped her foot faster than a hummingbird beat its wings.

“How’s your mom?” she finally asked.

Xander looked up, a little startled at the question.

“Good, adjusting. She calls at lest once a day - totally lost.”

“You should get her an A to Z.”

“Check. Also a compass and a GPS system. Nothing helps.”

“Maybe she just likes it when you rescue her.”

Xander smiled, “Yeah, I guess that could be it.”

Anya sat at the head of the table. Willow and Buffy flanked her on either side. In the middle, the mirror lay flat, reflecting the ceiling. They had tried a dozen locations, but they were all people-less expanses of trees.

They were about to give up when a pale shape began to form in the middle of the mirror.

“Is that it?” Buffy asked.

Anya remained silent, watching intently as the images became stronger. They were looking at the center of a town.

People and animals passed by, but no one Anya remembered. Then a woman walked in from the right of the frame.

She had her back to them and she held the hand of a small dark haired child. Willow and Buffy watched Anya so intently that they didn’t notice the woman and girl turn to look over their shoulders.

“There. Freeze,” Anya called.

The image stopped and held.

“That’s me,” Anya said. “That’s me and that my moder.”

“Dawn. Dawn!” Spike called. The store was awash with skinny brunettes Dawn’s age. His eyes passed over them quickly. None had her gate, her utter lack of poise. “Come on, we have to get back sometime soon,” he called out.

He waited a few seconds but she didn’t answer. Then the panic set in. “That’s it,” Spike said and began to stride through the isles and call, “Dawn this is not a funny penance. Come out.”

He walked into the dressing rooms and began pounding on the doors. The sales people tried to stop him but he brushed them away. “Is there an emergency exit?” he asked the nearest clerk. She pointed to a door at the back and he ran toward it. The door opened onto a stairwell and he took the stairs two at a time.

He was so intent on reaching the bottom that he didn’t notice the figure come up behind him until it was too late.

Willow, Buffy and Anya watched the mirror silently. Buffy marveled at the strange clothes while Willow frantically scribbled any details she could cull from the scene.

Anya quietly repeated the Swedish words as they were spoken, as if intoning a long forgotten liturgy. After ten minutes the mirror flickered and the image cleared away to reveal Anya, Buffy and Willow’s awe struck faces.

“Where’d she go?” Anya asked. “Make it come back.”

“It’s alright,” Willow replied. “I got all the info we need. We just have to cross reference the family names with-“

“I want it back,” Anya demanded.

“No, it’s not a television. We can’t leave it open all day. It’s not safe.

“Sure, can’t abuse magic when it’s for me.”

“That not what I said.”

“Hey,” Buffy said, stepping between them. “If Willow says to close the mirror we close the mirror.”

“Oh, bossy Buffy demands it; I guess we’d better obey.”

“Hey. We’re trying to help you,” Willow said incredulously. “What is your problem?”

“Nothing,” Anya replied, stepping back. “Just- do the research thing.”

“Yes ma’am,” Willow replied and walked toward the stacks.

“Where are you going?” Anya asked.

Willow didn’t turn to answer her. “The genealogy archive is back here,” she said as sweetly as possible.

Buffy followed her up the stairs and they exchanged a ‘what the hell is wrong with Anya?’ glance.

“Well, can I come?” Anya called after them.

Faith was in the bathroom and Xander was thoroughly creeped out. The other guys in the café kept looking at him and nodding. What was that? Some guy signal he didn’t know about? Finally, the waiter came over to pick up the dishes and whispered, “Dude, your girlfriend is hot.”

Xander grinned and cocked his head to the side. “Well, you know what they say.”

The waiter furrowed his brow. “No.”

Xander’s grin faded. “Yeah, I got nothin’.”

The waited nodded and gave Xander a look that said, ‘You’re not worthy.’ and walked away.

The respect of his fellow men was nice, but Xander really wished he’d earned it. Faith was technically a girl and a friend but so far he hadn’t had the stones to take it any further. ‘Probably for the best,’ he thought. ‘It’s a ridiculous idea. She’s Faith. She can have any guy here. What would she want with a one eyed duffus like me?’

“No problem guys. Really, the more books the merrier,” Buffy said from behind the tower in her arms.

“She’s so handy,” Anya said, adding another book to the stack. “People make the best beasts of burden,” she said cheerfully.

Willow turned to look at her.

“But slavery is wrong,” Anya continued. “Tragic.”

Willow nodded and leapt up to put the last of the books on Buffy’s pile. “Ok, that’s it,” she announced.

Anya walked to the door and pulled, but the knob didn’t budge.

“Uh, Buffy?”

“What?” Buffy said, trying to peer around the books.

Willow brushed past her and yanked the door knob. “Crap.”

“What?” Buffy repeated.

“We’re locked in,” Anya announced.

“So I can put the books down?” Buffy said hopefully.

Faith made up her mind. She’d just march out there, kiss him and ask him out. Right. Easy. She exited the bathroom and walked toward the table. But as she approached him she had a sudden flash of him saying, “You think I’d date a murderer? You tried to strangle me.” Then she envisioned wiping that smug smile off his face with a solid right hook. The image stopped her in her tracks.

“Hey,” Xander called to her. “Wanna catch the last matinee of Return of the King?”

Faith shook off the image of him lying on the floor, beaten and bleeding, and replied, “You’ve seen it three times.”

“Which is seven times fewer than I’ve seen the other ones.”

“So that’s like- twenty three hours spent on a movie about a little guy with a weird jewelry fetish?”

“Jewelry fetish?!” Xander said and clutched his chest in mock horror. “It’s so much more than that.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it’s a transformative experience.”

“It is. You’ll love it,” Xander said. He got up and grabbed her hand to pull her toward the door before he really thought about what he was doing. “Come on. There’s this chick – Eowyn. You’ll love her.”

Buffy wrenched the door knob as hard as she could but it held fast.

“Nothing,” she said as she walked back to Anya and Willow.

“Great, superhero can’t even break down a door,” Anya said glumly. “How worthless can you be?”

“Hey, I could break it, I just don’t want to piss off Xander,” Buffy said.

“Please. Willow – you zap it.”

“I’m not gonna zap it.”

Anya leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. “I’m eleven hundred years old. I’ve seen hundreds of wars, twenty some odd plagues, and I’m going to die in a closet. It’s just so humiliating.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Willow said and sat down beside her. “We’re not gonna die. Xander will come looking or Fred will get back from tutoring Chao An and find us.”

“Why would they look here?” Anya replied.

“Fred likes it here. Reminds her of home.”

“Is her home a cave?” Anya retorted.

“Was for a while.”

“That explains quite a bit.”

“I think it’s kinda nice in here,” Buffy said, quite pleased to give up her beast of burden status.

“Well sure it’s fine for you. The best death scenario you had ahead of you involved getting your throat ripped out. I was going to die in bed surrounded by fat grandchildren,” Anya said.

“We’re not gonna die,” Willow repeated.

“You were going to have grandchildren?” Buffy asked.

“Sure.”

“You understand you have to have children first.”

Anya nodded. “Right.”

“And raise them,” Buffy added.

“Yes, I’m not stupid.”

“And change diapers,” Willow added.

“I can do that.”

Willow looked at her disbelievingly.

“Ok, the nanny can do that,” Anya amended.

“And like – nurture them,” Buffy said.

“I can nurture. I’m a nurturer.”

“Yes. Clearly,” Buffy said.

“Like you’re such a great parental figure,” Anya replied.

“Hey-“ Buffy protested.

“All you ever excelled at was slaughter.”

“Says the woman who started the Russian revolution.”

“See, started, I nurtured the latent hatred for the Tzar.”

“Nurturing a war is not the same as nurturing a child,” Willow said.

“No, I expect the child will be easier,” Anya replied.

“I’m so tired of waking up in chains,” Dawn complained as she came to.

“Ditto,” Spike replied beside her.

She turned her head to look at him. It was sort of comforting – at least she wasn’t alone this time – but Spike wasn’t her number one draft pick.

“Not really interested in hearing about your sex life,” she said.

Spike chose to ignore her. “From the smell I’d guess we’re near the woods.”

“Great, we can camp and make smoores,” Dawn replied and yanked at her chains.

She stopped suddenly when a movement at the mouth of the cave caught her eye. Dawn turned to see a dark figure walking through the archway. As he moved forward the shadows slid off his skin, as if recoiling from him.

“Cemtaur,” Dawn whispered.

“Buddie! How you been?” Spike cried out. “Hey, seems there’s been some misunderstanding.”

Spike was cut off by a quick jolt of pain.

Beside him Dawn watched wide eyed as Spike jerked helplessly.

“Stop it,” she shrieked.

Suddenly Spike went slack and hung in the chains.

Dawn looked at Cemtaur who smiled and cocked his head to the side.

“Don’t you dare hurt her,” Spike snarled as he raised his head.

“Shh,” Dawn hissed.

“What? I’m not afraid of – AHHH.” Spike cried out as another bolt of pain shot through him.

“What do you want from us?” Dawn yelled.

“I could care less about you two,” Cemtaur replied. “I want the slayer.”

“Course,” Spike replied, trying to catch his breath. “Which one?”

“The Slayer,” Cemtaur replied. “The last true slayer.”

“Buffy,” Dawn said.

“No, Faith.”

Dawn and Spike were shocked into silence for a moment. Spike recovered first. “So this is the plan of the mighty Cemtaur? Kidnap her friends, lure her out. Pathetic really.”

“Oh, that’s not the plan at all.”

“What then?” Spike said. “We’re just here to decorate the walls?”

“You’re just here so I can keep you out of trouble,” Cemtaur said with a smile. “The girl however; the girl is key.”

Spike looked at Cemtaur condescendingly. “You can’t use the key, dumb ass.”

“Yeah,” Dawn agreed. “Chaos and flying dragons and badness won’t help you get Faith.”

Cemtaur smiled. “I’m not some pathetic homesick hellgod,” he said. “With the key I can open any door to any place, walk in and take what I want before anyone can protest.”

“But how,” Dawn began, afraid she already knew the answer. “How will you close the door?”

Cemtaur brought his finger to his lips. His eyes twinkled. For a second he looked like a demented Santa Clause. “Now, now. That would be telling.”

“Well if this isn’t a metaphor I don’t know what is,” Anya said, looking around.

“What?” Buffy asked.

“Trapped with you – it’s my life. I’ll never get away.”

“I’m sorry,” Willow replied. “It’s awful the way we’ve repeatedly extended our hospitality to you after you created hell dimensions and killed innocent people.”

Anya didn’t reply.

“I’m sorry that –“ Buffy began, but Anya cut her off.

“Whatever, I just hope Xander finds us soon.”

“Now, if you don’t mind,” Cemtaur said. “I’ll need to bleed you.”

“Of course I mind,” Dawn growled.

“Hm,” Centaur replied as he chose from his knife collection. “Fortunately, I don’t care. Up on the altar with you,” he said with a casual gesture at the stone chair in the middle of the room.

“No,” Dawn said.

Cemtaur turned to look at her, annoyance creeping onto his face.

“Just do it Dawn,” Spike hissed.

“Like hell,” Dawn replied.

“Dawn, just do as I say,” Spike whispered.

Dawn looked at him for a moment, then up at the altar. She could still run, maybe she’d get all the way to the entrance before Cemtaur set her nerve endings on fire. If she got real lucky maybe he’d over do it and kill her and all this key crap could be over for good.

She turned to look at Spike again. “Fine, what’s a little ritual bloodletting between people who loath each other?”

Dawn stepped forward, walked up to the altar and sat down with her arms facing up, veins exposed.

Both Spike and Cemtaur stood still, struck by her stately gate. She moved like a martyr to the pyre, righteous, glowing.

“Can we get on with it?” Dawn demanded.

“Oh, yes,” Cemtaur replied and unsheathed the knife – not a gleaming Bringer knife. A dirty knife. A knife that said, ‘You couldn’t matter less.’

Dawn closed her eyes. Her whole consciousness was focused on the skin of her forearms. She waited for the familiar pain of sharp metal on soft skin and willed herself not to cry out.

Spike watched with equal concentration. He’d only get one chance. He watched Cemtaur’s back as he moved toward Dawn. As Cemtaur leaned over to make the incision Spike summoned his strength and moved faster than he’d ever moved in his life. Still, it almost wasn’t enough. Cemtaur became aware of the movement behind him and turned in time to see Spike’s fist hurling toward his face. He staggered backward and tried to focus on inflicting pain but his own pain was too great. Spike delivered another blow. He kicked Cemtaur between the legs, praying his genitals were on the outside. Cemtaur shrieked and bent forward.

“Bull’s-eye,” Spike said and looked up to Dawn’s throne, but it was empty.

“Come on,” Dawn yelled from the mouth of the cave, then darted into the dark.

Spike ran to catch up and grabbed her hand to lead her out. It was too dark for even him to see so he followed the faint sound of rushing water. Minutes went by while they ran. Spike knew that every additional second brought Cemtaur closer. He was fighting full on panic when he caught sight of a faint light ahead of them.

He doubled his speed and Dawn struggled to keep up. At the end of the tunnel she stopped short while Spike jumped into the river.

“But I like these pants,” she said.

“Dawn.”

“Right,” Dawn replied and pressed her right foot through the shimmering water.

Before she could step forward a tingly sensation began at the small of her back and spread through her body like wild fire.

“Dawn,” Spike cried and reached out for her. She collapsed forward into his arms, revealing Cemtaur behind her.

“Carry her back,” he said.

Spike stood still while his mind darted every which way, looking for an escape.

“Carry her back or I’ll incapacitate you and haul you both back myself,” Cemtaur demanded.

Spike nodded, lowered his head, and took a step forward out of the water. But instead of putting his weight on his leg, he pushed backward and fell into the river with Dawn clutched in his arms.

As he fell the pain took over and he had to fight to hold onto Dawn as they were pushed away by the current.

‘The not date wasn’t a total disaster,’ Xander thought as they walked into the kitchen. ‘Not the kind of grand romantic encounter they write operas about – but those people end up dead anyway.’

“So, Dawnster was gonna torture us with dinner, right?” Faith asked as she shrugged off her jacket.

“Yeah. Dawn!” Xander called.

No answer.

“Where is that little trollop? I’m hungry,” Faith said. She took out her cell and called Dawn’s number.

No answer.

“Xander,” Faith said.

“Yeah?”

“How does Dawn feel about her phone?”

“I do believe she’d lay down her life for that phone.”

“So no chance she just left it somewhere.”

“Not likely.”

“That’s what I thought. BUFFY!”

“I’m going to try crawling through the air duct,” Buffy announced.

As soon as she was gone Willow turned to Anya, “You’ve been an unbelievable bitch in the past but that took the cake. That took the entire bakery.”

“What?”

“Buffy has repeatedly welcomed you and-“

“Yes, the sword through my chest was very inviting.”

“You killed twelve men.”

“You tried to end the world. She didn’t put a sword through your heart.”

“Not for lack of trying. And she would have stood by you if you had given her any indication that you were sorry. If you had just asked her for help, she would have fought D’Hoffryn to the death, most likely hers, to protect you. As for me, I risked everything to help you.”

“For Xander.”

“No, for you,” Willow replied.

Anya was quiet for a moment while she remembered all that Willow had given up to save her.

“This isn’t about Buffy, or me,” Willow said, breaking the silence. “I know this.”

“Enlighten me brilliant one,” Anya said with more sarcasm than she felt.

“You don’t think you deserve a family. You wish she had killed you.”

Anya looked down and shrugged. “Don’t be so melodramatic. I just- I still don’t know who I am, or what my role is-”

“No one does.”

“You do. You’re the smarty pants who does magic and has homicidal tendencies.”

“Thanks.”

“I want a role,” Anya continued. “I want to be someone. But you know - being someone is a lot harder than just wishing it. I have done nothing with my life and I never will.”

“Don’t say that – you started the glorious socialist paradise known as the USSR.”

Anya winced and lowered her head.

Willow immediately felt bad. “Look. You- You’ve helped loads of times. You’re always coming through with the demon knowledge.” Anya didn’t seem impressed. “And you saved everyone.”

Anya looked up hopefully. “When was that?”

“When you did the blocking spell. I would have killed them if you hadn’t stayed.”

Anya shook her head. “No, I just-“

“Saved them. Buffy, all of them.”

Just then Buffy fell more than jumped down from the vent.

“Oh my God, are you ok?” Willow said and ran to her side.

“I’m alright,” Buffy replied, brushing the dust off her clothes. “I inhaled a pound of dust and who the hell knows what all, but I’m ok. You know, crawling through the vents kinda brings me back.”

“What happy memories of crawling through vents could you possibly have?” Willow asked.

“I didn’t say it was good nostalgia,” Buffy replied and started looking around the room. “I can get through to the library, I just need something to pry the vent open with.”

“Oh, keys,” Willow said and fished them out of her pocket.

Anya looked up at Buffy and announced, “I saved your life.”

“Um, what?” Buffy replied. She glanced at Willow with a look that said, ‘Joke?’

Willow shook her head, ‘No.’

“When Willow was all crazy.”

“Um, I guess that’s true,” Buffy said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Anya replied. “Thank you for crawling through the vent. You’re a good superhero.”

“Well,” Buffy began, too shocked by Anya saying thank you to really process what was going on. “I think I’ll crawl back into the vent now.”

“She doesn’t take compliments well,” Anya said when Buffy had gone. “I’ve got that over her at least.”

“Yes, you have no trouble with people extolling your virtues,” Willow agreed.

“Thank you,” Anya said brightly.

When Dawn came to the first thing she saw was Spike’s back. It was battered and bruised. His shirt was shredded and edged with blood. She widened her gaze and saw that he was hunched on a log by a river.

“What happened?” she asked hoarsely.

Spike jerked his head around, startled at the sound. “Hey, you alright?” he asked.

For a moment she thought she saw tears in his eyes, but she passed it off as her own blurry vision.

“Yeah, my body feels weird though,” she answered.

“Can you walk? If you can walk we should get going.”

Dawn stiffly maneuvered herself onto her feet and stood up. “I think so. What happened to your back?”

Spike shrugged and replied. “River bed.”

Dawn moved her shoulders tentatively and felt her back for wounds before she realized that he had been beneath her, protecting her from the blows. She couldn’t think of what to say so she replied, “Mean river.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t find your family,” Buffy said as they cleared up the spell mess.

“Maybe we can try it again – trace some other line of your family,” Willow offered.

Anya looked from Willow to Buffy and around at the library. “Nah, I’m good.”

“Want cookies?” Willow asked.

“We can bake those nasty almond cranberry orange oatmeal things you like,” Buffy offered.

Anya looked up at both of them.

“I know, cookies not a substitute for family-“ Willow began.

“No, no. Cookies are great,” Anya replied. “Let’s go.” She started toward the door, then turned back. She wanted to continue, tell them something unbelievably sappy, like that she had all the family she needed right there. Luckily Xander burst into the room and kept her from embarrassing herself.

“Buffy. Where the hell have you been?”

“The vents mostly. Any way we can get those widened? You know, in case of emergency?”

Xander paused a moment. “Ok, right. So Dawn and Spike are missing.”

“You’re so like your sister,” Spike said.

“Is that a come on?” Dawn replied.

“No offense pet, but gross. I’m just saying, it was brave, the way you walked up to that altar. You didn’t even flinch.”

“Only cause I knew you’d attack and get us out,” Dawn replied.

Spike stopped and watched her walk on ahead of him.

“What?” Dawn said, turning back to look at him across the three feet between them.

“How’d you know I wasn’t on his side?”

“Please.”

“How’d you know I’d be able to save us?”

Dawn shrugged. “I just did.”

They looked at each other for a moment, then Spike took a few steps to catch up with Dawn and they continued walking.

Soon they were trudging up the hill, passing empty observations like old friends.

“Did you catch the look on his face?” Dawn asked.

“Kodak moment.”

“I can’t believe he thought you’d sit back and let me die.”

Spike shrugged, “There’s a lot about humanity that demons just don’t get.”

Ahead of them the front door of the council came into view. The door swung open and Buffy marched out, scythe in hand, but stopped short at the sight of Spike and Dawn.

“Hello Love.”

“Are you coming to rescue us?” Dawn asked.

“I was,” Buffy said slowly. “I guess I over reacted. You just… lost track of time?”

“No, we were kidnapped by Cemtaur,” Dawn replied.

Buffy nodded. “And you two rescued yourselves?”

“Yeah,” Dawn said cheerfully.

“Oh,” Buffy said. ‘My baby doesn’t need me anymore!’ “Good then.”

An hour later everyone had cleaned up and gathered in the library.

“Faith?” Buffy said incredulously.

“What did he want with me?” Faith asked.

“Dunno,” Spike replied. “He called you the last true slayer.”

“Giles?” Buffy said, looking to him.

“Well he does have a point. Clearly you were no longer holding the line or your death would have triggered another slayer. Faith was the last slayer in the classic sense.”

“I’m a classics.” Faith said. “Great – why’s he after me? I thought he wanted to get rid of all the slayerettes.”

“Clearly he knows something we don’t,” Giles said.

“So maybe he could do it, undo the scythe spell - if he had Faith,” Buffy said.

“Or he just thinks he can,” Willow offered, trying to be cheerful.

“Ok, we’re doubling up patrols and initiating a twenty-four hour watch on the house,” Buffy said. “Willow, we need to know more about the spell – and Faith you are not to go out alone.”

“Hey. What happened to co-chairs?” Faith said. “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“Well I don’t need it.”

“And this isn’t about just you.”

“I know that,” Faith said. “But you’re overreacting.”

“We can hope,” Buffy replied.

“You failed. The girl got away.”

“For now,” Cemtaur said.

“We’re losing time.”

“Don’t worry. I know exactly how to hit them where it hurts.”

“We don’t want them hurt, we want them ended.”

“But the pain is so much fun,” Cemtaur replied.