He's Back

Chapter Sixteen

It didn't take long for Buffy to spot Faith's new car—it was the only one in the lot that not only had been parked out of plain sight, but it was all shiny, bright and new. And red. Can't forget that, can we? Faith and a red sports car seem to fit together—like Spike and his damn cigarettes.

In other words, it screamed Faith.

Ignoring the churning in her stomach and her weakening knees, Buffy kept walking.

She had to.

This had to end.

Even though she had stumbled down this road before, it still didn't make her less frightened to know that she was walking into a trap. No stakes or other weapons to protect her—just herself.

Offering herself up for a demon meal. How fucking stupid could she be?

But then Fate did that, didn't it? It was a wonder that Buffy even knew how to think for herself with all the prophecies, slayer dreams and fate-like things that seemed to rule her life.

Well, no matter, she thought to herself. It won't matter much after tonight, will it?

~~~~~~~
Spike wasn't sure what it was that tipped him off that Buffy was no longer at the high school.

One moment he was halfway listening to Giles quietly speak to Joyce—their voices low and worried—and the next, he looked up at the library's double doors and somehow just knew.

Knew in his gut—just like he knew when Dru told him about her visions of Angelus' return, that it was going to happen—that Buffy had no plans in returning to the library.

She had left.

Instead of going to the bathroom, she had walked straight out the building to Faith's waiting car—in other words, to her death.

Slowly, he stood up and walked across the library, avoiding the few remaining sunspots, and stopped at the closed doors.

Only peripherally aware of what was going on behind him, Spike extended his senses as far out as possible—desperately in search of her familiar heartbeat and blood scent. Needing to feel it—to feel her.

She's gone.

He stopped.

What the hell was that? he asked himself.

She's gone, Spikey. Prophecy must be fulfilled. Balance must be maintained...

"Bloody hell," he whispered. It was Whistler's voice that he heard in his head—the bloody, annoying demon that fucking disappeared—

"Spike?" Willow's voice called out. "What's wrong?"

You can't do anything—it's up to them. It's always been up to the Chosen ones. Trust Buffy and Faith...trust your love...

"Spike man, what the hell is wrong with you?" Xander asked.

The whelp was right behind him. Somehow Spike knew that even before he heard Harris' voice.

Somehow Spike knew where everyone was everywhere.

His mind spinned as a flash of blond hair filled his inner vision. A pensive look on her beautiful face. Hazel eyes filled with tears as she stared out the car window—wondering if this was the last landscape she would ever see.

She turned her head and Spike studied the dark-haired young woman driving the car. Faith. Her face, that Spike intuitively knew hid most of her inner emotions, was now open as he saw her pain, apprehension, resentment and finally acceptance...

As a searing pain tore through his head, blinding his vision, he finally understood—everything.

And then Spike collapsed.

~~~~~~~
"Where are we going?" Buffy asked her voice quiet and resigned. "This isn't the way to the mansion."

Faith chuckled as she shook her head. "You didn't expect them to stay there, did you B?" She glanced over at her sister slayer in time to see her shrug nonchalantly.

"I really didn't think about it, I guess."

Faith frowned as her mind processed what Buffy had just said. It was so unlike her—to be both passive and resigned—that Faith decided right then and there that she needed to talk to the other slayer—before they both faced Angelus and Dru.

She pulled the car over to the side of the road and switched off the engine. Turning in her seat, she faced the blond slayer and really studied her.

Whatever had happened to Buffy, it had taken its toll on the other slayer. Her face was drawn and tired. Her eyes were so sad that a part of Faith wanted to reach out to her and hold her.

What the hell is wrong with you, girl? she snapped at herself. This girl is as good as dead and you want to comfort her?

What was wrong with her? A week ago, Faith's path seemed clear as glass. And now, everything inside of her was eschewed. Her loyalties to the Mayor were battling Angelus' loyalties which in turn was fighting in her own Slayer instincts.

She felt as if she was being pulled a dozen different directions and the only clear path open to her led to her own death.

Was this how Buffy felt all the time?

Groaning softly, she cleared her throat—waiting for the other slayer to look over at her. When Buffy's hazel eyes met hers, Faith spoke.

"What are you doing, B?"

The blonde's eyebrows creased as Faith watched a wave of confusion flash across her face. "What do you mean?"

Rolling her eyes, Faith took a deep breath and tried again. "Why did you come out here today—offering yourself like a fucking lamb to the slaughter?" She paused, feeling a stab of anger, her voice rose. "Why do you want to die?"

Buffy snorted as she turned to stare out the windshield. "You know why. Everyone has always known my weaknesses, because they're my strengths—"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Oh come on, Faith, you can't tell me that Angelus didn't plan this? He had to have known what my dad's death would do to me..."

Her dad was dead? That was the first Faith had heard of it. "He died? When? How?"

Buffy shook her head and she leaned back against the headrest, staring out the car window. "I don't want to get into this now, okay? He's dead. Drained in LA. Dead's dead—"

LA. Wesley-the-Wonder-Watcher-turned-vampire. It had to have been him. I wonder if Angelus gave him instructions to do that before I deposited the prick-face at City Hall?

"Wow—I'm sorry, B. I didn't know," Faith whispered as she turned back to the steering wheel. Her fingers clutched the ignition key as her mind tried wrapping itself around this newest piece of information.

It was wrong.

Somehow, in Faith's mind she had drawn a line and Angelus' had just crossed it. The Scooby Gang—they were easy pickings—it was okay to hurt them, turn them or kill them—they had chosen sides in this battle. But to reach out and hurt Buffy's father, who knew nothing of his daughter's calling—who didn't even live in the same city as the slayer—just seemed wrong in Faith's mind.

It wasn't until she had made it across town to another mansion—much like the one on Crawford Street and turned the car off—did she figure out why it had bothered her so much.

It made Faith feel vulnerable.

And Faith hated it.

~~~~~~~
"Spike!" Xander called out, catching the blond vampire before he hit the floor. Sinking to his knees, he managed to turn his 'defacto' sire's body so that it was facing the ceiling and studied his face.

His human face had long ago disappeared, leaving his true-face in its place—twisted and in pain. His body was stiff—as if all his dead nerves had ignited or someone had zapped him with a thousand bolts of electricity.

"Giles—get over here!" Xander called out right before the seizures began.

How in the hell can vampires have seizures? he asked himself as his eyes quickly scanned the surrounding area—in search of something to put in his mouth.

Vampire or not, Spike still could swallow his tongue.

"I need a stake—a small one but sturdy!" He yelled out.

Seconds later a pale hand held one out in front of him.

Xander grabbed it and opened the vampire's mouth, slipping the stake horizontally under his elongated incisor teeth and as far back as the corner of his mouth would allow.

"What happened?" Willow asked, sitting down next to him as her fingers touched his forehead. "He's hot—that can't be right," Willow mumbled, her other hand touching Xander's face. "But it is—he's at least five degrees warmer than you."

"Oh dear," Giles said as he kneeled down beside them. "We should take him in the office—"

Spike's body suddenly contracted as his arms flailed about—one of them hitting Willow and knocking her across the floor.

"Ah shit, Wills—"

"Willow, are you okay?"

Xander heard Willow moan and cough softly. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just remind me never to get to close to epileptic vampire again."

"Cordelia, go wake up Joyce and then go get Buffy! Oz—get over here and between the three of us—we should be able to get him into my office—"

"On it," Cordelia yelled out and Xander heard the office door open and close.

Spike's body suddenly relaxed—the stake began slipping out of his mouth.

Willow picked it up.

"It's stopped—"

"I see that, Xander. We need to get him in the office now!"

Oz stepped into view and grabbed one of the vampire's legs while Giles took a hold of the other. "On the count of three."

Xander nodded, his hands gripping the older vampire's arms so hard, he knew Spike would have bruises later on to prove it. Fear curled itself in Xander's belly—making his demon scream as his soul cried out. Just the day before, Xander had been inwardly complaining about his own Angel missage, when in reality he had already come to depend on Spike...

"—Two. Three!" The three men stood up and began the quick trek across the library to Giles' office. Just as the reached the door, Joyce opened it—stepping back and allowing them to enter with their burden.

Xander silently thanked Joyce for moving the table back against the wall, so the space in front of the couch was open. He didn't know much about seizures, but he did remember that the patient needed to stay on flat and on the floor—so there was no chance of him falling and causing himself further injury.

"She's gone, Giles! Buffy's gone!" Cordelia's paniced voice yelled out in the other room.

Oh god, Buffy, why? Xander silently asked her—intuitively knowing just where she went.

Spike was once again lying on the floor—his head in Xander's lap—when the young vampire looked up to see his girlfriend skid to a stop at the office's threshold.

Cordelia's face was white as the significance of Buffy's disappearance sunk in. Like Willow, Xander and Giles—Cordelia knew what that meant. Buffy had done the same thing the night of the Spring Fling—when she had been destined to meet her death at the Master's hand.

"Oh dear Lord," Giles whispered as fell back against the desk. "I should've known—"

Xander felt his eyes water as he looked down at Spike's now peaceful, although very dead-like expression. Did he know? Xander asked himself. Was there more of a connection between Buffy and Spike then any of us believed possible?

"Should've known what, Rupert?" Joyce asked, her voice rising with each word. "What did my baby just do?"

Xander felt Willow enter the crowded office and looked up to see her reach for Joyce's hand. "She went to meet Angelus."

"What the hell does that mean?" Joyce yelled out, yanking her hand out of Willow's grasp. "I am not going to lose my daughter too! Do something! Anything!"

"If Xander's willing, I could drive over to the mansion—it'll be dark by the time we get there—and you can use that vampire-sense thing and see if she's there yet."

Xander glanced down at Spike—suddenly reluctant to leave the only being alive that could help through this—his unlife as it was—and looked over at Willow, who was kneeling down beside him.

"I'll keep an eye out on him."

Sighing, he nodded yes. "I'm game."

"Cool, I'll get the van." Oz disappeared out the door.

"I'll come with you," Cordelia said, looking down at Xander.

Giles took a deep breath and nodded. "I might as well too. If she is there—you'll need all the help you can get."

Xander nodded, his hand absently rubbing Spike's ridged forehead and sighed.

When did his life—or unlife—get to be so damn complicated?

~~~~~~~
"Are you sure, B? I can turn around and we can leave now—out of here. Fuck the mayor, Angelus, Dru—our fate—" Faith asked, facing the other slayer. One last chance for both of us to get out of this alive...come on, B, take it...I don't want to die...

"Fate? Did you finally have that slayer-dream, Faith?" Buffy asked as she stared at the house in front of them. "I've had a couple in the last few days," Buffy whispered. She shook her head as tears fell down her cheeks. "Where were they last week? I even had one about you—after Alan."

She turned to face Faith. "Why Faith? Why did you do this?"

Faith sighed as her eyes closed. She finally just shrugged. "Because it seemed like the only thing I could do."

Even as she said it, Faith knew that was bullshit. It wasn't the only thing she could do. If she had trusted Giles and Buffy—none of this would've happened. But something inside of her just couldn't trust the elder watcher and Buffy. They were the Establishment in her mind. The do-gooders that always seemed to make a mockery out of her life and her pain. How could she trust any of them when all they did for most of her life is ignore her misery?

It just wasn't possible.

Buffy chuckled humorlessly and opened the car door. "I really didn't want to die, you know. I always thought that I would somehow beat the early-death curse of being a slayer. I had so much to live for. Ironic, isn't it? The same things that I want to live for are the same things I'm willing to die for."

Buffy's words sent chills down Faith's spine as she recognized the truth in them. Like the other slayer had said earlier, Buffy's weaknesses were her strengths.

What were Faith's weaknesses?

Too many to count.

But her strengths?

Maybe Faith would be lucky enough to discover those before she too went the way of slayers and met death.

Buffy stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind her. Glancing over through the window, Faith's eyes remained glued to the other slayer's back as she popped open the glove department and pulled out a stake—her lucky stake.

Once she slipped it in her boot, she took a deep breath, calming her racing heart and stepped out of the car.

Maybe I'll find out I'm not so bad after all, she thought to herself as she walked around the car and grabbed Buffy's arm.

Together, the two slayer's headed for the house—ready to meet their fates.

Chapter 17:

The first thing he did was rape her.

There was no fake seduction or feeble attempts to force her to enjoy it. No, it was definitely of the wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am category—minus her readiness.

Buffy silently wondered if she would ever be able to enjoy sex again.

God, if she hadn't talked to Xander and Spike or had those dreams, that act alone might've broken something inside of her.

Luckily for her, it didn't.

But when she saw those cold, demon eyes of his—piercing hers—filled with lust, hatred, anger and a desperate need to control and dominate—Buffy finally 'got it.' She now knew why Xander hated Angel so much after last spring.

Before, when she saw Angel, she saw goodness, love, safety, security—and when she saw Angelus, it was his cruelty—sheer evil-ness that haunted her.

But she could always separate them. Unfortunately, she wouldn't ever be able to say that again.

And how could she?

The same cock that had broken through her hymen with infinite tenderness and love was the same one that was driving her so hard into the concrete floor, it was a wonder her bones hadn't broken under his abuse.

Those same lips that had kissed away her tears and her fears for over two years were the same ones that bit, sucked and nibbled her entire body until she was covered with bruises and bite marks.

The same voice that had whispered loving tidbits in her ear was the same one that continually berated her and cut into her soul with his words.

God damnit, she hated him.

She hated him with every fiber of her being and just kept praying that he would slip up and kill her accidentally—forgetting about his promises to hand her over to Dru once he was finished.

Unfortunately, God wasn't listening.

He let her live.

And then the fun really began.

Angelus had just lifted himself off her when Dru danced across the room and stood above Buffy, giggling softly.

"My Angel gave the naughty slayer lots of pretty colors, didn't he Faith?"

Buffy's eyes shut as she heard the other slayer snort deprecatively. "Yeah, Dru, he sure did."

Then Dru flittered across the room and Buffy heard the sound of chains rattling and falling. Here it comes, she thought to herself, remembering her dream of being chained and whipped. At least this means the end is near.

"Faith, bring her over here," Dru commanded.

Buffy opened her eyes to see Druscilla, the once-consort of Spike—Buffy's Spike—standing there, waiting impatiently by a handful of chains that were dangling from the ceiling.

That is where I'm going to die, Buffy thought to herself as she felt a warm pair of hands grab her arms and lift her easily off the ground. She looked up at Faith and frowned, suddenly unsure of her earlier hatred for the other slayer. It wasn't anything Faith had said or done—it was more like a feeling that Buffy was getting from her and had gotten from her since she had walked over to the slayer's car earlier that day; Faith did not want to be there anymore than Buffy did. And if Buffy could believe what Faith had said earlier—her sister-in-arms had also been experiencing the wonders of slayer's dreams as well.

Maybe, for what it was worth, those damn Powers That Be, set all this up in motion for something greater to happen. Something more important than Buffy or Faith's lives. More important than Xander's mortal life or Angel's existence. More important than Hank Summers' life...

God, wouldn't that be nice, she thought to herself as Faith began snapping the shackles around her wrists and ankles. As Buffy heard each latch click, she imagined hearing the sound of a gun cocking and shuddered, unable to ignore the similarities.

Because, in a lot of ways, that's what these chains were to her—a loaded pistol fated to go off...

It wasn't until she felt the first slash of agonizing pain crash across her body, centering on her back, that she realized Faith had stepped back and Druscilla was starting the second part of the plan to destroy Buffy Summers: her torture.

As the pain washed through her body, Buffy swore to herself she would not succumb to its helplessness.

She would not allow him to beat her in that way.

She couldn't, because if she did, than he won so much more than just her hope—he won it all.

~~~~~~~
Willow sighed softly as she once again ran the cold cloth over Spike's fevered skin.

For nearly two hours, she and Joyce had continually stood watch over the vampire—hoping beyond hope that he would awake in time to save Buffy from Angelus.

But as the minutes wore on, Willow's faith began to falter, knowing that the longer Buffy remained in Angelus' hands, the less chance she had of surviving.

If the vampire was pissed off at Buffy a year ago for having Angel's memories of their love, Willow could imagine the rage he felt against the slayer for sending him to hell under the soul's tutelage.

It would be endless.

Which meant, in turn, that Buffy's death would be as painful as her dreams showed it would be.

It just wasn't right, Willow thought. Wasn't it written somewhere that the good guys always prevail and evil always gets put in its place? Although the last three years hadn't always proven that theory true to the letter, it did seem to be the overall theme of their lives. Buffy always seemed to win—when push came to shove. She succeeded against this same vampire that Willow was tending to now numerous times in the past—pushing him far enough back that the good would equal out the bad.

And with Angelus? In the end, Buffy came up on top against him as well—sending him and his soul straight to Hell when the demon tried opening the portal through Acathla.

Biting her bottom lip, Willow closed her eyes against her tears.

"Why?" she whispered. "Why did she do it?"

"She loves us, that's why Willow," Mrs. Summers whispered as she caressed the vampire's blond locks. "And my baby has always followed her heart."

Willow dropped the rag into the water bowl and reached over Spike to squeeze the woman's arm. "She must've had a good teacher."

The older woman's eyes—clouded with tears—met Willow's as a small smile curled her lips. "Thank you, Willow. I just hope I have more time to teach her other things as well."

Withdrawing her hand, Willow nodded and stood up—suddenly feeling the need to move. She looked out over the empty library and felt something inside her crack.

It wasn't until much later did Willow realize that it had been her heart that had been broken that night.

The young hacker-witch grew up.

~~~~~~~
"So, did my Spike make you come, Slayer?" Dru asked, whispering in her ear.

Buffy bit her bottom lip and forced herself not to respond.

"I see his mark on you—right above my Angel's," the vampire paused for a moment and Buffy felt her cool tongue lap at both pairs of holes. Buffy shuddered, feeling her stomach turn in response. "I like my Daddy's better. It's brighter and has much more color. Would you like another set? Then you'll be marked by all three of us. Um?"

Fuck you, Buffy silently chanted at Dru. Angelus and you may 'mark' my skin, but Spike's got my heart...

"Slayer blood—so potent and full of life—isn't it, my Angel?"

A soft chuckle echoed through the room. "Aye, it sure is, Dru. Especially Buff's. It's so noble and heart wrenching, don't you think?" Buffy lifted her head to see him growl playfully in Faith's ear.

The other slayer was sitting in his lap while Angelus had his hand up her shirt, tweaking her nipples.

Buffy watched as Faith whimpered lustily, pushing her breast into his hand while leaning her head down on his shoulder, crooked over to the side to give the vampire easy access to her neck.

Buffy wasn't the only slayer who was marked—as if the collar wasn't enough to show the world who actually owned Faith—the bite marks were.

Angelus' cold eyes met hers as his hand slid down Faith's stomach to the vee in between her legs. Buffy heard the rustling of clothes falling to the floor behind her and mentally prepared herself for the second leg of Dru's torture. Not even a minute later, a pale, feminine hand slipped around Buffy's body and cupped her breast, cool fingers pinching her nipple in time with Angelus' hand.

Faith moaned loudly as she watched Dru's hand, pressing herself into Angelus' hand while the vampire began nibbling on the dark-haired slayer's neck—careful not to draw blood.

"Naughty slayer has pretty breasts," Dru whispered right before sucking on her earlobe.

Buffy bit her bottom lip as she concentrated on the painful throbbing of the wounds on her back—desperate not to respond to Dru's ministrations.

The blond slayer's number one erogenous zone was her ears and Buffy just knew that Angelus had imparted that little bit of knowledge to the vampiress.

Tears ran freely down her face as she began shaking her head in denial. Of all the things to happen to her now, this had to be the worst. Not only was she being beaten, but treated as a sexual toy by a female vampire...

Buffy had never been with a female before.

"If I make you come, pet, will you cry all those pretty tears for me?" Dru asked in between sucking her neck. Buffy felt her nipples harden as a rush of heat flooded her system. "Will that break you, um? It did me—when Daddy made me come at the convent...all those nice nuns in pretty little pieces and beautiful bright colors all around us as he hurt me and pleasured me..." Growling softly, Buffy heard the vampiress face change and wasn't surprised to feel the prick of a fang as she scratched her shoulder. "All that pain—in my heart and my body and all that pleasure..." Dru's free hand slipped down Buffy's stomach, gently caressing her as her chilled tongue lapped at the small wounds on the slayer's shoulders. "Daddy taught me well, didn't he?" she asked as her fingers slipped down to Buffy's sex and teased her outer lips.

Moaning, Buffy shook her head in denial as she felt herself getting wet. None of her dreams ever warned her of this. She was prepared to die, even painfully so, but this? Never.

Opening her eyes, she looked across the room and met Faith's lust-filled gaze. In the short amount of time that Buffy had closed her eyes, Angelus had stripped the other slayer of her leather pants and now had Faith sitting on his lap with his prick buried deep inside of her. As the vampire lifted the slayer up and down on him, Faith played with her clit, moaning loudly as her body became flushed signaling that she was close to coming.

"Oh God—just kill me all ready," Buffy whispered as she tried wiggling out of the vampiress' grasp.

A loud growl filled Buffy's hearing as Dru pinched her clit, causing Buffy to cry out in pain. "Death is too easy for you, nasty slayer," Dru said softly as her tongue teased her neck. "I want you to suffer like I did when you took my daddy and my Spike away." The vampiress fangs pressed against Buffy's throat, teasing her as her tormentor began to softly tug on the slayer's nipple. Minutes passed as Dru lazily tickled Buffy's sore and throbbing sex—causing the slayer to whimper as her arousal grew.

Buffy knew the moment she had lost the battle that Dru had been waging, when she found herself pressing her neck into Dru's waiting mouth. She wanted the vampiress to drink from her, despite the danger to herself, to her soul and to everything that Buffy had ever stood for.

But then Buffy had walked into the battle already on the losing side; she knew how pleasurable a vampire bite could be having been the recipient of one from both Angel and Spike. Unfortunately, that's what Dru had been counting on.

"Not yet, my sweets. My Angel wants to taste you first."

Seconds from causing Buffy to climax, Dru stepped back from the slayer, leaving her wanting. Needing that little death and all those little and big deaths that came with it.

A loud groan quickly followed by Faith's scream as the other slayer reached her fufillment echoed damningly throughout the room. Buffy's eyes shot open, suddenly knowing deep inside of her that she was already damned when Dru stepped into her line of sight propping the whip on her shoulder, with her other hand behind her back.

Breathing heavily, Buffy lifted her head and met the vampiress' cold demon eyes—forcing herself not to flinch at the hate she saw there. Growling, the vampire lifted her arm holding the whip back and grinned as she brought the thin, leather material down with supernatural strength—slicing the same breast that the vampire had teased only minutes before.

Buffy didn't even notice that she had bitten through her lip as she forced herself not to scream.

As Buffy hung in chains, Dru grabbed her hair and lifted her head. "Now, now, now—no hiding, nasty slayer—at least not until I show you my surprise," she said, giggling. "Do you want to see it now?"

Buffy said nothing; knowing that any answer she gave Druscilla would be wrong.

Dru grinned as she brought her hand out from her back and held it out in front of Buffy—waving the achingly familiar weapon in front of her face.

The blond slayer felt something die inside.

Of all the things for the vampire to choose to bring on Buffy's death—why did it have to be this one? As her eyes studied the rustic, black metal stained with dry, flaky old blood—tears ran down her cheeks. The bitch—how dare she bring him in here in this room with them. He had made his choice—left his toys of torture and pain home and joined Buffy...

How dare she bring Spike into this.

"You bitch," Buffy whispered as her eyes blinked the tears away. "Is that for me? Or are you trying to give him some sort of message when he finds my dead body?"

Dru just smiled coyly as she ran the metal across Buffy's stomach, marking her with the rust and other sediments that flaked off the spike. "I remember when my Spike first used this—so much rage—his demon loved to scare all those poor, weak humans—he was so beautiful...covered in all that blood...causing all that pain."

Buffy felt her chest constrict as she sobbed—unable to stop herself from crying out loud as Dru's intent became clear. How many nights did Buffy lay awake after hearing about Spike's love of this weapon, did she wonder if this was how she would die? Something so instinctual—that seemed to permeate everything that Buffy was—recoiled at the thought. It was one thing to die in battle—or by a set of fangs or broken neck, but another thing to be used as a pin cushion for a railroad spike.

And now that she let that same vampire into her heart—the idea that his former consort would use his favorite weapon on Buffy—darkened everything Buffy and Spike had shared.

Buffy didn't even realize she was screaming his name as Dru impaled her foot with it.

But then, by that time, Buffy wasn't too aware of anything—except the pain.

The pain in her heart and in her body was always there.

~~~~~~~
As soon as Spike felt the world darken around him, he intuitively knew what was happening to him. He was 'evolving' as Whistler put it.

Although the short demon hadn't elaborated on the specific powers that went with Spike's spoken allegiance with the Gray Council, he had heard things—seen things in his 200 years that gave him some inkling as to what was going to happen.

He just didn't think it was going to happen so soon and right in the middle of a crisis. Every fiber in his being screamed that he had to wake up and find Buffy—to stop her from turning herself over to Angelus—no matter what prophecy or the Council or anyone said. Wasn't it his feelings—his ability to love that made him so desirable to the Gray Council in the first place? If that were true, why would they risk Spike's loyalty by taking away the one person that guaranteed his allegence?

< But is that so? > a strange, melodic voice whispered in his mind. < Even if you lose her or even your existence now—you'd still be here—in front of us—eventually. >

< It is written. So shall it be, > another voice boomed. This being had a definite male quality to it.

< She must do this, my child, > yet another voice whispered in his mind. < Balance demands it. >

< Demands what? That she die? > Spike yelled, spinning crazily around in the mists of his mind. < Bloody hell, people—she's seventeen fucking years old— >

< She's the slayer. > The booming voice stated.

< Well, fuck me, do fucking tell! >

< He's angry, > the first voice sang—her voice so sad, it nearly hurt Spike to hear it.

< He's a demon. >

The booming voice again.

The bloody prick's getting on me last nerve, Spike thought to himself as he glared through the mist. < Yeah, I'm angry—you would be too if your unlife had been turned upside down like mine has in the last few— >

< William, these things are not always in our hands...just like you, we have to wait and hope. The Slayers know what they must do. We must trust them...you must trust her... > the third voice said quietly and calmly.

Growling, Spike clenched his jaw as his eyes shut in frustration. Always talking in riddles and never giving a bloke a straight answer—is this where Peaches' got his cryptic act from?

< Just ask, William and we will tell you. >

Reading my mind now—fucking wankers, he thought to himself as a dozen questions flooded his mind. Like what exactly was the slayer's plan? What were they supposed to do? Why did Buffy have to depend on the other slayer—when she was the one that had brought this all on herself? Everything seemed so turned around as if he was a player in a hastily written play—almost as if no one knew how the events led them to where they were now. Like him leaving Druscilla. Only one thing in the world would pull him away from his Dark Princess—and that was Angelus. And by him leaving Dru, a whole other world of possibilities all beginning and ending with Buffy had opened. Spike would've never pursued the slayer in any other circumstances except those that had happened.

Groaning, Spike mentally took a deep breath and asked his questions—fearing the answers almost as much as the unknown. But he had to know—and this was his chance.

And as the entities answered each one—a hot, searing pain sliced into his whole body—branding him—

It wasn't until he awoke, that he realized how high the price had been for those answers, as his body sang in pain.

Spike hadn't felt this bad since the organ had fallen on top of him.

"Bloody pricks," he whispered, his eyes meeting Joyce's frantic ones. He forced his hand up—reaching for hers. Grasping her hot and sweaty palm in his, Spike gave it a small squeeze. "We have to trust them, Joyce," he managed to whisper before passing out again.

~~~~~~~
As Buffy hung in her chains—her body long ago surrending to the pain—she wondered how much longer Angelus would let Dru play before they both finally gave in to their demons and drained her.

She was actually looking forward to it.

Inwardly chuckling, she allowed herself to float away—and idly wondered when she'd learned the art of astral projection. Maybe it was a slayer thing, she thought to herself as she looked down at her battered, broken and bloodied body. Or maybe it was just her imagination—taking her some place where Dru wasn't standing in front of her—licking Buffy's body as if it were an ice cream cone—cleaning the blood off of Buffy with a type of glee that only a vampire would possess. Angelus had come and gone periodically—tweaking a nipple here—bringing Buffy to the verge of an orgasm there—but he always returned to Faith—almost as if he feared she would run away.

Buffy looked across the room at Faith and suddenly found herself flying across the room and hovering beside the napping slayer. Even as she reached out her hand—not nearly as surprised at its ghostly appearance as she should be—Buffy wondered why she kept finding herself drawn to the other slayer.

All night—even while Faith was screaming in pleasure—there had beensomething in the dark-haired slayer's eyes that called to Buffy—begging her to trust Faith. It was almost as if they were saying, 'I have a plan, B—it might not be much—and neither of us may make it out alive—but they will die.'

Buffy took more comfort in that look than she had ever thought possible—considering how horrid the last couple of months had been with the other slayer.

A plan, she thought to herself as her hand squeezed the other slayer's arm. Come on, Faith. If I can astral project—you can wake up, she silently chanted as her hand slipped through the slayer's body.

Faith shuddered, her eyes flickering as Buffy heard her whisper, "B."

< Yep, its me, > Buffy thought to herself as she looked around—suddenly realizing she wasn't in the main room but somewhere else—somewhere familiar.

Buffy found herself chuckling when she recognized the setting. She was standing in Renfield cemetery. < Faith? >

< Right behind you, girlfriend. >

Buffy turned around and met the other girl's sad eyes. < We're in your dream, aren't we? >

Faith nodded as she grinned. < I've always liked this place...quiet and peaceful. I used to come here after patrolling and just sit. >

< So did I, > Buffy said, leaning against a headstone as she studied the other slayer. The clothes were the same, but here, in Faith's mind, she seemed much more relaxed and less angry. This was the Faith that Buffy had come to love. The girl that Faith hid underneath all the pain and distrust. Buffy instantly felt herself relax, intuitively trusting this girl—knowing on an instinctual level that here—in Faith's mind and heart, they were on the same side. Sighing softly, Buffy gave the other slayer a small smile. < So, Faith—what's the plan? >

Faith's face darkened as she turned and looked away. < They're going to drain you—and probably soon. You may not remember—but I had to step out earlier. The Mayor called, > Faith paused, shrugging, as she pursed her lips. 

< What are you talking about? >

< Didn't your dreams tell you? >

Buffy frowned, shaking her head. < No, they didn't tell me how—just what needed to happen. That if I turned myself over to Angelus, that my soul as well as everyone else's would be safe. At least for now. >

Faith nodded as she took in everything that Buffy had said. She began to pace in front of Buffy—almost as if she was reluctant to tell her the rest of the plan. She stopped and took a deep breath and faced Buffy. < They probably didn't tell you the how because they knew you wouldn't follow through with the plan if you knew it, > Faith admitted as she nibbled on her bottom lip. < While Angelus and Dru are busy with you—I'll shoot them with the gun—slice one of them open and force you to drink from them— >

< Faith! I don't want to be a vampire! >

 she whispered. Suddenly Faith walked up to her and clasped Buffy's shoulder's, forcing her to look Faith in the eyes. < And I don't want to die, B—but that's what's going to happen, > she said as she shrugged. < It's what was destined to happen the moment the Mayor and I stole Angel's soul from him. I realize that now. All week I've been trying to figure out how to get out of this—but it's impossible—because there's no other way. Hell in Sunnydale is one thing—Hell on Earth is a whole different story and that's what's going to happen if we don't do this exactly the way I say— >

Buffy opened her mouth to protest when she felt a cool metal slice into her leg. Gasping, she fell over and saw the ethereal red liquid slip out of her leg.

Faith kneeled down beside her, her hand caressing Buffy's hair. < Looks like you need to go back, B. Your soul needs to be in your body for this thing to work. >

Groaning, Buffy nodded as her other leg jerked in pain. Gritting her teeth, she straightened it and saw a long, deep knife wound on her thigh. She looked up at Faith and gave her a small smile. < See ya in the afterlife, Faith. >

Faith cupped Buffy's face with both of her hands. < You won't be there if I have any say about it, > she said as Buffy felt her mind being tugged back to her body.

Not even a minute later, Buffy was back in her body as the two vampires began their last round in playing with 'the naughty slayer.'

This time, there would be no reprieves. Buffy could feel her death in her soul.

Chapter Eighteen

They didn't even hear her leave.

Faith ignored the stab of jealously that snuck its way into her heart as she quietly stepped outside and ran to her car. It was like a little chant in her head, reminding herself that was how she got everyone in this position in the first place—allowing her envy of the other slayer to darken everything else—and she opened the car door. Reaching over the front side seat, she tugged on the blanket that covered the gun. Tossing it over to the side, she grabbed the gun, slid open the dart chamber and popped open the glove department. A minute later the gun was loaded, cocked and she had a handful of darts in her coat pocket.

Turning off the overhead light, she left the car door open and ran back into the house, slipping through the still-open front door. Quietly placing the gun behind the door, she shrugged off her coat and dropped it on top of the weapon then peeked inside the room.

The two vampires were still raping the other slayer; Buffy's whimpers of pain-induced pleasure sent chills down Faith's spine. Tugging on her leather collar, Faith promised herself she would get the key to unlock the damn thing before she dusted Angelus.

She would not die with a slave collar on her neck.

A loud growl broke her thoughts as Faith heard Angelus sink his fangs into Buffy's neck. Dru's own purr of satisfaction soon followed. Stepping back, Faith reached behind her and grabbed her coat and the gun.

Picking the weapon up, she aimed for Angelus'—knowing that if she didn't take him out first, she would never have the courage to follow through with the plan. The vampire's hold on Faith was nearly unbreakable; only Faith's desire to see the world continue gave her strength to fight against him.

That, and knowing that she too would die soon.

Buffy's eyes fluttered open, meeting Faith's from between the two dark-haired creatures that were feeding from her, and blinked her hazel eyes once at the slayer. Faith nodded, aimed once again and fired three shots at Angelus. Before he even fell, Faith took out Dru as well.

Now comes the fun part, she thought to herself as she reloaded the gun and pulled out two stakes, sticking them in the back of her pants. She went over to the table where Dru and Angelus had laid out all their 'toys' and grabbed two more sets of chains and slung them over her shoulder.

"How you doing, B?" she asked as she walked over to the other slayer.

"Peachy," Buffy whispered, her voice so soft that Faith knew if she hadn't been the slayer, she wouldn't have heard her. "Hurry Faith—th—they took—so—so much."

Seeing the blonde's near-death like complexion, Faith couldn't help but agree. "Watch Dru, will you? Tell me if she even blinks. I need to chain them up before we do this."

"'Kay."

Still keeping the gun pointed at the vampire, she knelt down beside him and turned him over onto his back. After nudging a few times, Faith took a deep breath and placed the gun behind her. Inwardly praying he wasn't playing possum, she tugged on one chain set and pulled it off her shoulder, letting it drop to the floor. With each snap of the shackles, Faith felt a bit of her self-respect return. By the time he was somewhat immobilized, Faith felt a wave of relief sweep through her body.

Free, she thought to herself. At least, I'll die free.

Grabbing the gun, she scooted over to Druscilla and repeated the same action with her as she did with Angelus. She knew she should just stake the vampiress, but as she stared at the beautiful, but deranged vampiress, Faith couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her and found that she didn't have it in her to kill Dru. Nearly a hundred and forty years before, this young woman had found herself the object of Angelus' affections. Her innocence and gentle nature had been snatched away and replaced with a darkness that Faith had only tasted.

But Faith could've been Dru.

Never again would she judge those who fell under someone else's control.

Hopefully, Buffy would do what Faith found that she couldn't and kill the mad vampiress.

Shaking her head, she looked up at Buffy and sighed softly. Although not dead, the other slayer was approaching her end much more quickly than Faith would have liked. Standing up, she undid the shackles that held the slayer and gently laid her down beside Angelus.

Reaching into her boot, she pulled out her dagger—taken from a demon nearly a year before—and before she could even begin to doubt her sanity, sliced Angelus' neck open.

"Come on, B," Faith whispered as she lifted the other slayer and positioned her mouth over the vampire's wound. "Suck B—you gotta do it!"

Nothing.

Groaning, Faith picked up Buffy and laid her head down on Faith's lap, noting the other slayer's red-stained lips. Once again, Faith took her dagger and this time sliced Angelus' arm and lifted it over Buffy's mouth—making sure the wound was covering her mouth.

"B—Buffy, you have to do this. Remember—this is what needs to be done. Drink, damnit! Drink!" She yelled at the other slayer, massaging her throat and pressing her lips around the wound.

Faith's eyes filled with tears as the hopelessness of the situation filled her. Buffy was minutes away from dying and if she didn't drink from Angelus, everything that Faith and B had suffered through was for naught.

"Drink," she whispered, bringing her lips down to Buffy's ear. "Girlfriend, listen to me—you have to do this. This is no time for one of your rebellions—just drink, please..."

Faith nearly jumped when she felt the other slayer's throat move.

"Thank you!"

Another swallow nearly thirty seconds later.

And another—maybe twenty seconds later.

Within a minute, Buffy was drinking on her own.

Groaning, Faith moved out from under Buffy and squatted down in front of the pair. Taking a deep breath, preparing herself for a battle, she clasped Angelus' arm and pulled it away from the slayer's mouth.

Buffy's head fell as her eyes opened, focusing on Faith.

Faith's breath stopped as she watched the only person she could truly call a friend die.

~~~~~~~
"How is he?" Giles called out the moment he stepped into the library.

Willow ran out of the office and met the watcher, hope apparent in her eyes as she stared at the double doors waiting for everyone to enter.

Giles reached over and squeezed the young woman's shoulder and shook his head. "No, Willow, we didn't find them."

Shutting her eyes against her tears, she nodded and took a deep breath. Once she appeared calm, she looked up and met his questioning glance.

"He's better. He's still hot, but not as hot as he was. I need Xander to make a guestimate as to what a vampire's normal temperature is. He did wake up once for a couple of minutes, and mumbled something about trusting her. We think he was talking about Buffy, and he passed out again."

Giles nodded as he stepped into the office and knelt down beside Joyce and ran his hand over the vampire's forehead. "Xander, could you come here please?"

Xander appeared in the doorway, his eyes falling on Spike's prone body. "I'm here. What do you need, G-Man?"

Giles watched as Willow opened the file cabinet and pulled out the first aid kit. She took out the thermometer and shook it. "Willow's going to take your temperature. It appears that Spike's fever went down, but we aren't actually sure what's normal for a vampire."

Sighing, Xander fell back onto the couch and opened his mouth. Willow slipped the thermometer into his mouth and stepped back.

"I'm going to talk to Oz," she said softly, and disappeared into the other room.

Giles looked over at Joyce and suddenly felt a whole new wave of guilt fill him. "I'm sorry, Joyce. We think Druscilla did a spell to mask their presence. Neither Xander nor Oz could detect their presence anywhere in Sunnydale and yet, we all know they're here—somewhere."

"What about that mansion?"

"It was cleared out. Not even a vampire in sight," said the Watcher.

She caressed Spike's face, ignoring her tears as a small sigh escaped her lips. "Did you know that he and I kept in touch since his last visit?"

Giles shook his head, grateful once again for his 'English' reserve or he might have been sitting there with his mouth gaping open like Xander was.

"Xander—you need to keep your mouth closed for the proper temperature reading," he told the young vampire before he turned his attention back to Joyce. "No, Buffy never said anything."

Joyce chuckled softly. "Buffy didn't know. I kept his phone number at work. I would leave messages on his voicemail and he would call back. We usually talked once a week. I knew that things weren't going very well with him and Druscilla. He tried—the demon way—as he put it—but I knew back then, his heart wasn't it," she said, smiling. "I could tell by the way he reacted everytime Buffy's name would come up—that he was already in love with her. He just didn't know it."

Giles shook his head. "In all my years of studying and researching demons and vampires, no one ever told me that they could go against their very nature. I believed it was impossible. Sure, I knew there were exceptions, but I thought that those exceptions had more to do with the type of demon than their own hearts. When I met Angel two years ago, I didn't even think it was possible for a demon to have a soul. And now I find that not only is it possible, but that a demon's very nature can change with time—just as a human's soul can."

Willow slipped into the office and took the thermometer out of Xander's mouth. After holding it up to the light and squinting, she sighed softly. "It's too low to read on this." She shook her head. "I guess what we can do is take Spike's temperature, and if he gets a reading, we'll know he has a fever."

Giles nodded. "It's the best we can do, Willow."

She handed it to Giles and turned to walk out the door. Suddenly, she stopped. "You know, what he said earlier—about Angelus from before—he loved the old Angelus. The one before he got cursed."

Giles sighed, nodding slowly. "Yes, he did. And why not, he's a demon. Whatever happens tonight, I'm sure that Spike's future is not going to be an easy road. Without a soul, all he's going to have is himself to keep himself in check."

"And me," Xander whispered and suddenly laughed outloud. "Like I could do much, right? But, he's all I've got since the one person that could help me with this is gone forever."

Feeling his knees scream in protest, Giles finally sat back and leaned against the wall. "You'll do fine, Xander. I just hope the same can be said for everyone else."

~~~~~~~
Faith didn't even see him coming. She should've known that he wouldn't stay put. One moment she was watching Buffy take her last breath and the next, she was down on the floor, the back of her head bleeding as Angelus draped himself over her—pulling the chain holding his wrists together taut against her throat.

"So Faith, talk to Daddy. Tell him why you betrayed him—"

Faith swallowed hard, despite the chains as her mind began to spin. Shit, shit, shit...what in the hell were you thinking girl, not chaining him up to the wall, girl? God damnit it to hell—a little laziness and cockiness and look what happens. Shit...what to tell him...what to tell him...think quick, girl...or B's gonna be fucked...he'll either stake her or leave her like she is...or...

She blinked her eyes, praying that she still had enough moxy in her to even attempt to manipulate the bastard, and prepared to speak.

"Angelus—let me explain!"

He tightened the chain. "Don't fuck with me, slay-girl. I can easily get another pet," he said, as his fangs nicked her lip.

Her heart scampered out of control as she felt the hot dribble of her blood trickle down her face until he leaned over and licked it slowly. "Faaith," he said in a sing-song voice.

"I—I didn't want it to be—be just me," she whispered, praying that her lie showed, but not the depth of the lie...

What a dangerous game, your playing, Faith, her little voice taunted her.

Angelus tipped his head as he stared at her. "You have a thing for Buffy?" he asked, chuckling softly. "I always had a feeling you went both ways, but Faith! Buffy?" He laughed, his deep voice full of mirth and sarcasm. Shaking his head, his fingers caressed her face until they reached her chin. Suddenly they tightened, causing her to cry out. "Won't work, Faith. The truth."

Tears flooded her eyes as she glanced over at the dead body of her friend. She had to do this—she had to. Her death was imminent—it was the moment they stole Angel's soul away from him...

She shook her head and met his yellow, angry eyes. "You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me. Not that I won't kill you for such a betrayal anyway, but if I like your answer, you may get it easier than her."

Nodding, she forced herself not to flinch as his fingers dug into her skin and continued to stare at his eyes. "I wanted to see what would happen if a slayer was turned. If it worked with her, I thought maybe..." she drifted off, leaving the rest unsaid.

Angelus smiled as his grip on her chin lessened. "Now, that makes sense. Too bad, little girl, you won't get your wish. Slayer's don't turn very well. It's that awful soul of yours. It's very strong and no matter how strong the demon is, they constantly battle one another, leaving the host crazier than a mad-hatter. Makes Dru look like a poster-child for the Level Head Society." He shook his head, dipping it down to her neck and nuzzling her bite marks.

She forced herself not to flinch when his teeth sunk into her neck. All she could do is pray to those fucking Powers that something stopped him before he took too much. She inwardly sighed when he withdrew after only a couple of mouthfuls. Good, she thought to herself, ignoring the fact that she was actually happy that he planned to torture her for a bit longer. Just keep me alive long enough until she rises...

Her eyes shut as exhaustion hit her. She didn't even bother fighting him when he stood up. Instead, she just waited for whatever was going to happen next.

It wasn't until she felt his hand grab her hair and pull her to her feet that she realized she had finally surrendered to her fate—much like Buffy had earlier that day.

See B? We aren't too much different after all? she thought to herself seconds before his fist slammed into her face, knocking her out cold.

~~~~~~~
It was her soft sobs that drew him. So many times in the last few days, Spike had heard them and had felt drawn to their source. After two hundred years of walking the earth, causing pain, destruction and death in his wake, it was ironic that one young woman's pain would call to him—touch a part of himself that he had sworn died long before his mortal life had ended.

And even though there had been times in her life, that he had been the cause of that pain, somehow, something had changed. Whether it was her or him, he didn't know.

All he knew was that he needed to be there for her.

Walking through the darkness, allowing his instinct to draw him to her, he suddenly found her—her essence—curled up around itself as deep shudders of pain racked her body. He needed to hold her—tell her all was okay—just to hang on there for a little bit longer and that the darkness would go away.

That it would never be this dark while he was by her side.

Dropping to his knees, he wrapped his ethereal arms around her and drew her to him, whispering soft words into her ear. Almost immediately, he felt her uncurl her body and fling herself towards him—seeking his comfort and love—needing it beyond anything else.

< Baby, talk to me—tell me what's wrong? >

< Sp—Spike? >

< I'm scared and it hurts and it's dif-differnt! >

Kissing her temple, he rocked her shaking body as his hold tightened. < Different? What do you mean? >

She sniffled, pulling back away from his chest. < It's not like the last time. Where's the light? The tunnel? My grandma? I was all alone this time. >

< The last time? > he asked, suddenly confused. And then he remembered. Two slayers. Two slayers meant that Buffy had already died once, but was brought back. < You mean the last time you died? >

She nodded as she snuggled closer to him.

< It's different this time, because your soul's in limbo, waiting to see if the prophecy will be fulfilled. >

< Prophecy? >

< Remember, pet? 'What was once of light is now of dark. That of the dark, has been lightened. The prisoner shall finally be free,' > he paused, pulling back to look into her eyes. < And here's your part—the part that no one understood until now—'What was, will no longer be. What will be, has never been.' Remember it? >

She wiped her face, sniffling as she nodded. 

He smiled down at her, caressing her face. < You know what it means, pet. Quit being so bloody obtuse. Why did you leave the library? >

She stilled as her eyes took on a distant feel. < Because of the dream. The dream showed me what would happen if I didn't let him and Dru hurt me and kill me. Everything would be gone—the Balance would be forever changed. >

Spike snorted in disgust. < But they didn't tell you how the Balance was going to be maintained? >

She shook her head.

< Bloody fucking pricks! > he muttered to himself. < Figures that they would leave out the most important parts. > He took a deep breath and faced her—holding her tightly by her arms. < So, what happened—right before you died? >

Spike watched as once again her eyes closed in thought. Her features suddenly twisted as new tears slipped through her eyes. She opened them, biting her bottom lip as looked up at Spike. < Faith. She knocked out Dru and Angelus while they were draining me. She tied them up and undid my chains. And then...and then she got her knife out and—and she cut Angelus' neck and tried making me drink. >

< Did you? >

She shook her head again. < No, even though I knew I should or at least knew that Faith thought I should. But I couldn't—I don't—didn't want to be—a—a vampire. It was my worst fear for so long—until Angelus came. I used to lay in bed at night and see myself become a shell of what I was and kill all the people I loved and I can't do that, Spike. I can't. I don't want it! >

He pulled her into his arms and rocked her back and forth as the tears once again fell freely as he waited for her to make the needed connections.

< But it doesn't matter what I want, does it? > she asked softly as she looked up at him. < Because Faith begged me to drink and she—she cut Angelus' arm and pushed the cut to my mouth and begged me. She said that her death—her death had to mean something. But what the hell is she talking about? She didn't die! I died. I was turned! I was the one that drank his blood. I was the one that died. >

< Listen to me, Buffy. You know why we don't turn slayers? I mean, ideally, a slayer vampire would be so powerful and so strong that you would be a fool just to waste all that potential. But the problem is, slayer's souls are stronger than a normal human's soul. They don't relinquish control very easily and the demon becomes enraged. >

< So what you're saying is that somehow the Balance is going to maintained by a crazy slayer vampire—>

Spike chuckled to himself as he shook his head. < I won't let that happen, love. I promise you that. Just let me finish. But you are right—without intervention—a slayer-vampire does become insane. But now, with two slayers, the impossible has happened. A slayer's blood has mystical properties that when consumed by a vampire, gives them even more strength and power. That's why the Master's childer are so strong and powerful. The Master killed more than two dozen slayers in his reign. He passed that strength to his childer and those childer passed it on their own childer. Angelus managed to bag at least three slayers in his 150 years plus reign of terror. So, now you know why we all have been so hard to kill. >

< So, what's this have to do with me? >

Spike took a deep breath and looked down at her liquid eyes. < The only way your soul can be anchored and remain anchored is if your first meal is a slayer. >

He felt Buffy's whole body stiffen as his words sunk in.





She began shaking her head as she pulled out of his embrace. < No way! That's wrong! It's wrong on so many levels that I can't even begin to tell you. That's cannibalism—how do you guys do this? How did Angel survive? How's Xander doing this—I can't—I can't— >

Buffy stood and began pacing as she waved her hands in the air. < How can you expect me to do this? It's bad enough that—that I drank from him—God, I hate him. Have I told you how much I hate him? He hurt me. He laughed at me as he raped me. He knew exactly how to hurt me. It's funny—I don't hate Dru. She's just being Dru and a demon. But him—that's Angel in there—and Faith, she just watched! >

< Because she knew, baby. She knew what had to be done. >

Buffy stopped. < She accepts this? >

Spike nodded, ignoring the sick turning of his stomach as his mind imagined all the horrible things that Angelus and Dru had done to her...his Buffy. < Love, if she's following through with it, then she accepts it. What did she say to you? >

Pursing her lips, Buffy stared down at her feet, shuffling one of them back and forth. < She said that it had been her fate the moment she and the Mayor took Angel's soul away. She also said that she'd been trying to find alternative solutions—but there were none. This was our fate—hers and mine, > she looked up at Spike. < So, what is—is the two slayers? >

Frowning in confusion, his mind scrambled to figure out where she was at as he mentally repeated her words to himself until it finally sunk in. < Oh, you mean the prophecy? >

She nodded. < Yeah, the prophecy. >

< Yeah—what is, is the two slayers. What will be—is a sane, souled, slayer-vampire. >

Nibbling on her bottom lip, she nodded as she processed the last of her duties as a mortal slayer and sighed. She snorted as she shook her head at the thought. Her legs folded and she gracefully sat back down and wrapped her arms around her legs. < The good thing about it, is that I won't be alone. I'll have you and Xan. >

He sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. < I'll be there, baby. Right by your side. We can discover all our new powers together while Harris sits on the sidelines and grumbles about being just a normal, average vampire... >

Buffy giggled. < As if being a descendant from the Master is anything but normal, right? > She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed softly. < How many more of us are out there? >

He shrugged and kissed her temple. < I don't know. Darla was pretty picky. I heard rumblings a while back about her turning someone after Angelus was cursed. Never met him—because she went over here, while Dru and I stayed over in Europe. Dru's childer never made it. Somehow her insanity was passed on—it corrupted the demon as well as the base personality. And me? I've got a couple running around. Last I heard Nathan—who I turned in the middle of the 19th century—was in Australia stirring up trouble. And Jonathan's in Russia somewhere. I turned him right after Angelus was cursed—to help me out with Dru. He was with us in Prague. We split up right after that. >

< What about Angel? >

Spike snorted. < He's got a few more out there, love. He was always turning someone. Delusions of grandeur, you know. A real family man. Always wanted a huge coven filled with his childer and fledglings. I know he's got one bloke out there that's older than me—name's Penn—or something. He's like a serial killer with fangs. Last I heard, he was in LA in the thirties. I'm sure we'll be bumping into them in the future—all of them. Especially if we manage to kill Peaches. They'll be coming out of the woodwork to stake our asses. >

< Nice to know that I have— > She gasped, bending at the waist. < Spike, what's happening? >

< You're being called back, love. Remember first meal has to be Faith! >

< And if she's not available? >

< Wait and we'll do the soul restoration spell. >

< Spike, can you find us? >

He grasped her hands and tugged her to him. < Love, I know where you are. I'll be there as soon as possible with Harris, deal? > She nodded, tears filling her eyes. Giving her a small smile, he bent and kissed her softly on the lips. 

< And I love you too, Spike >

Spike held on to her until she disappeared, leaving him alone in the darkness. Sighing to himself, he knew it was time to wake up and find Buffy.

Everything was in its place.