Chapter Nineteen





The first thing Spike noticed when he came to consciousness was the comforting feel of warm fingers sliding through his hair—calming him. For a moment he remained still as he extended his senses in hopes of identifying the person caressing him.

He instantly recognized her scent: Joyce Summers.

Blinking his eyes, he looked up to see the slayer's mother; her face drawn and weary—her fear and pain nearly palpable as she desperately tried to deal with the day's events. First she loses her ex-husband, then her daughter... Spike thought to himself as he reached up and grasped her wrist, stilling her.

"Joyce, I'm okay," he whispered, his throat dry.

"Spike—you're awake!" She leaned down and gave him a huge hug. "I was so worried. I don't think Buffy could handle losing you too," she whispered, her eyes losing focus as her thoughts turned inwards. Suddenly, they cleared and looked him in the eye. "Are you all right? How do you feel?"

He shrugged, trying not to wince when he moved his body. Bloody hell, I'm going to have to feed, he thought to himself. "Yeah ducks, I'm all right. Feel like I've been a few rounds with your daughter, but other than that, nothing that a few pints of O negative couldn't cure." He released her hand and sat up, closing his eyes against the dizziness. "Is there any blood here?"

Joyce nodded as she stood up and walked over to the small refrigerator that Giles kept in his office. "Xander ran over to that bar—Willie's?" she asked pausing until he nodded his head. "And grabbed some for you—knowing that you would probably be a bit hungry." She pulled out a bag and stuck it in the microwave. "How long?"

Spike blinked his eyes and shook his head when he realized what she was asking him. "A minute, Joyce." Spike sighed as he stretched his legs, trying to work out the kinks before he attempted to stand. "Can you go get Xander, Giles and Willow for me? We need to get Buffy back."

"You know she's gone? How?"

He sighed, nodding slowly. "Right before I passed out, I figured it out. The bloody Powers—mucked everything up," he said quietly.

Frowning in confusion, Joyce nodded and stepped around him to the door. After opening it, she called out for the three, telling them to come into the office.

By the time the microwave beeped, Spike had four sets of anxious eyes on him, waiting for an explanation. After Joyce handed him the blood bag, he bit into it, ignoring the humans and drained it quickly. Already feeling better, he managed to stand up and walk over to the trashcan to throw the empty plastic bag away before another wave of dizziness hit him. "Bloody hell," he muttered as he stumbled over to the refrigerator and pulled out another bag. This time, he bypassed the niceties of heated blood, and drank the crap cold. He shook his head and finally felt himself relax in relief. No more dizziness. "Thank Satan," he mumbled to himself as he leaned against the wall and pulled out a cigarette to light it.

He sighed as his eyes studied the four other occupants in the room. He knew this wasn't going to be easy. One thing he had learned in the last few days he'd spent with this group was that everything had to be talked over, rehashed and analyzed to death. It was a wonder anything ever got done. Taking another drag, his eyes stopped at the whelp. "How long to sunrise?"

"It's only 10pm, Spike."

Spike nodded, wondering how his night sense could get so messed up. "Good—that'll work. Harris, I need you to gather as many weapons that us two can carry and load the DeSoto. Can you do that, mate?"

Xander nodded, shooting up from the couch. "Are we going to get Buffy?" he asked quietly as his hand grasped the doorknob.

"Yeah Harris, that's what we're doing."

The young vampire closed his eyes in relief and hurriedly left the office.

Spike turned his attention on Willow. "Pet, can you get all the ingredients for a soul-restoration spell and be ready to do it tonight, if necessary?"

Willow's face paled as her eyes shut, but not before a few tears leaked out. After taking a couple of deep breaths, she indicated she could. "All the stuff's at home—but I don't need anything else."

Feeling a bit better, Spike pushed himself off the wall and began to pace with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. "Good. Get the wolf to take you home, pick-up the supplies and then come back here."

Willow glanced over at Giles and Spike noted that despite the Watcher's obvious distress, he still managed to squeeze the young witch's arm and give her a small smile. "Go ahead, Willow," he said softly, closing his eyes.

The redheaded witch pushed herself off the couch and was heading for the door, when she suddenly stopped and turned back to the vampire. Spike stood there in amazement as she ran over to him and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him gently around the waist. "I'm glad you're okay, Spike," she whispered and turned around and left before he could managed to find his voice.

He shook his head, grinning at the sheer craziness of his unlife and dropped his cigarette, stomping it out. He looked up at Giles and Joyce and felt his stomach clench. Now comes the hard part, he thought to himself.

"Close the door, Giles," Spike said softly.

The watcher leaned over the end of the couch and pushed the office door shut. Once done, the older man leaned back against the back of the couch and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"


"No mate, I don't suppose you will."

"Buffy—you think that Buffy's a vampire, don't you?" Joyce asked, her voice shaky and barely restrained.

"They buggered me real good, they did. The Powers or the Council—whatever the hell they call themselves—decided to start my 'conversion' the moment I realized Buffy had left us, so I wouldn't try to stop her..."

"Bloody hell," Giles whispered.

Spike nodded in agreement. "Fucking pricks. You see, it was the prophecy. It needed to be fulfilled," Spike added, snorting in disgust. "Everything in the first two parts of the prophecy except that little bit about the prisoner being set free has already happened. And the 'prisoner' couldn't be taken care of until that last little bit—that stanza that the slayer was bitching about the other night—was fulfilled. Remember it? The nebulous one?"

Giles nodded as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "What was, will no longer be—"

"What will be, has never been," Joyce finished.

Lighting another cigarette, Spike chuckled. "Yep, that's it. The 'what was' bit—is the two-slayer situation. After Buffy and Faith die—there'll only be one called," Spike said feeling that manic laughter that he'd been fighting since he woke up, bubbling up. "Because—now, here's the good part—one of the two slayers now—won't actually be totally dead. She'll be turned. You see, they had it all worked out, even though I was told that this was not the way things were supposed to be. I guess it was a good back-up plan." Spike shook his head in disgust as his pacing took on frantic qualities. "If everything goes as planned, once this night is finished, the Powers will have one immortal, sane and souled, slayer vampire—"

"That's impossible!" Giles exclaimed, shooting up from the couch. "Slayers can't be turned! They go mad!"

Joyce whimpered softly, her head falling into her hands.

Spike grimaced as he watched Joyce and sighed softly. "Normally, I would agree with you, mate. But that's where Faith comes in."

Joyce's tear-stained face lifted up as her eyes widened. "You said both of them were going to die. Oh dear God—"

Spike nodded. "Yeah, that's the plan. A slayer's blood is ambrosia to vampires. Powerful—gives vampires added strength their entire existence and can be passed down to their childer. That explains why our bloodline is so strong. The Master drained nearly two dozen slayers during his reign. The blood has mystical properties as well. The downside of it all, is that it takes a really strong demon to resist the 'human' aspects of slayer's blood. This is why Dru's insanity remained with her once she was turned; the blood enhanced that part of her humanity—forcing it to remain. It's also why Angelus' obsessive nature was amplified when his demon was in control and why my demon—already possessing 'human-like' traits—just flourished. We'll have to see how this affects Xander. With Angel—when he was ensouled—it amplified his humanity. Made his conscience and guilt stronger than it would've been if he had been turned by someone not of the Master's bloodline. That's why there was such a difference between the human Angelus and the ensouled Angel.

"Amazing," Giles whispered as he rose up from the couch and began pacing. "So, what you're saying is that if a vampire drained enough slayers, he would have the equivalent of a soul?"

Spike nodded as he looked out the office door and watched Cordelia as she was unloading various weapons from the cage. "Maybe a bit twisted, but like a soul nonetheless."

"And this has to do with my daughter how?"

Spike shook his head and turned back to the couple on the couch. "First of all, remember that the soul doesn't leave when a person is turned. It's just overpowered and subdued," Spike said as his eyes met the watcher's.

Giles nodded, sighing.

"And like Giles said, slayers aren't turned successfully. The 'slayer' aspect is too strong to be dominated by the demon. And the demon seems to react instinctively against that 'goodness' that won't leave and wages a war inside the person. It's close to what happened to Angelus—but even worse—because an ordinary human soul in itself isn't divine. A slayer's soul is. It's the closest thing to divine that humanity has." Spike paused and lit a cigarette. "The one thing that can settle the battle between the slayer's soul and the demon is the blood of a slayer. And because there's only one slayer at a time—"

"What about potential slayers?" Giles asked interrupting him.

Spike shook his head. "It has to be a slayer at her peak. In my experience, having drained both a newly called slayer and one that's been fighting for a while—there's a difference. The blood is strengthened by time. Faith has been a slayer for nine months. Granted, her blood isn't as strong as Buffy's, but it's strong enough."

Giles collapsed back down on the couch. "Fuck."

"You mean, Buffy—my beautiful daughter—is going to have to drain Faith in order to remain sane?"

Spike nodded as he spotted Xander standing outside the office door. Waving him in, he told him to shut the door behind him.

"Car's loaded. Oz and Willow have left."

Spike reached into his duster pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

"Then why the soul restoration?" Giles asked, apparently finding his voice.

Spike looked up and met the watcher's eyes. "It's the Hellmouth, Watcher. Nothing ever goes according to plan here in this bloody place," he said as he handed the phone to Xander. "You keep this—since you know the number. We may need them." He reached for the doorknob and turned back to Giles. "Tell them whatever you want, but keep them out of the way for a while. It's not going to be pretty."

"Spike!" Giles called out.

Spike stopped. "Yeah?"

"Where is she?"

Spike chuckled softly as he shook his head. "Angelus managed to move into a nice, beautiful home just three doors down from where the cheerleader lives. I think the address is 243. We'll call. Come on, Harris. Let's get the slayer and kill the prick."

Together, Spike and Xander left the office and headed out into the night.

~~~~~~~
She still hadn't screamed; Faith was so proud of herself.

She would've laughed at her own foolishness if she had the energy to do so. But unfortunately, she couldn't risk wasting her energy on such superfluous emotions. No, all her reserves were being kept on hold for the other slayer. It was almost like a silent mantra that she had begun chanting in her mind once Angelus began having his fun with her.

I will not die...I will not die.

So far, Faith had been lucky.

But then, she'd only been under his control for maybe half an hour. And he hadn't been idle. She'd already been raped in all three holes. Bastard, she thought to herself as she watched him roll off the bed and saunter over to his toy-box. She had taken a peek in the thing earlier in the week and was surprised to find that her stomach could still clench in fear. All sorts of painful gadgets resided in there—things that even Faith, with her worldly experience, couldn't name.

She felt herself shudder as she watched him pick up the nipple clamps, silently wondering if her promise not to scream would soon be broken. If they had been normal clamps, she would've been fine for the most part. But no, never would she be that lucky; these were made especially for those who loved blood. Instead of just pinching the nipple, the clamps sported two sharp points that actually impaled the breast—meeting underneath the nipple in the flesh.

God, she hoped he wasn't planning on using that pussy clamp she saw in there—or she just might end up going mad just like Dru.

Just let her survive until Buffy revived—that's all she asked.

~~~~~~~
Spike turned off the ignition and pulled out the keys. "So, any more questions?" he asked the young vampire as he opened the car door.

Xander opened his mouth to say something and suddenly shook his head, closing it again. "Nope," he muttered quietly. "I just hope we can pull this off."

"Harris, if we're lucky—Angelus and Dru are still out of it and Faith's just sitting next to the slayer waiting for her to revive."

The dark-haired young man looked at Spike pointedly. "And when have any of us been that lucky?"

Spike chuckled softly as he nodded in agreement. "Around here, never."

"Let's go," Xander whispered as he opened his door and slid out of the car.

Spike met him at the trunk and opened it. Within minutes, both of them had not only enough stakes to dust a good two dozen vampires, but Spike was wielding a staff, Xander had swung the tranq gun around his arm and was carrying a crossbow in his hand.

"Ready?" Spike asked Xander as he watched him slip the last stake in the back of his pants.

Xander nodded once. "Ready."

~~~~~~~
Faith managed to keep silent until he began flicking the clamps with his fingers.

That's what did her in.

Pain seared through her body, causing her adrenaline to soar as her nerves became sensitized to his ministrations. Then his cold tongue lapped at the blood, cooling her flesh and she began to whimper in response.

Laughing, he leaned back and stared at her. "Tighter Faith? Or looser?"

Closing her eyes, she turned her head away from him.

His slap across her face nearly broke her nose. "Don't you ever look away from me, my dear bitch."

She faced him—her eyes blazing.

"There's that fire," he said softly as his head dipped down and nipped at her neck. "So," he whispered in her ear. "You wanted to be a vampire. Why would I ever turn you, Faith? You're trash—white trailer trash. You're nothing special," he said and ran his tongue down the edge of her ear. "Not even as a slayer."

She felt herself flinch at his words as tears flooded her eyes. Bastard, she thought to herself.

"See—you know it yourself." His mouth moved up her neck to her chin, nibbling and biting her skin. She could feel nearly a dozen or so small cuts ooze blood as he made his way to her mouth. "Poor, insignificant little Faith who had to be bad in order to be noticed," he whispered against her lips, smearing her blood across them and then flickering his tongue out to capture it.

He sat up and straddled her, his erect cock lying on her stomach. His hand clasped her throat, tightly enough to make her uncomfortable, but not tight enough to choke her. "Now, if I was going to turn either of you—it would be Buff. She's unique. She's always surprising me." He snorted, shaking his head. "The bitch even managed to send Soul-Boy to Hell. Gotta give her points for that. It's just a shame she'll be mad when she wakes up," he said as he shook his head in mock dismay. Suddenly, his face lit up—his brown eyes lighting up with a devilish glint.

Faith managed to stop her shudder.

"So Faith, want to stick around and see what a crazy slayer-vampire does when she's in the throes of her first hunger?" He smirked as he jiggled one of the clamps—his eyes closing in pleasure when he heard her screams. "Maybe that's how you should die—it would be pretty appropriate, wouldn't it? Then I'll stake her—after she's served her purpose."

~~~~~~~
Spike pushed open the door—surprised to find that it wasn't even closed properly and slowly slid inside as his eyes scanned his surroundings.

Three things he noticed right off the bat: one, Dru was still chained and out cold. Two, Angelus and Faith were missing and three, although Buffy was dead, blood lined her lips and Spike knew that she had been turned.

Cocking his head to the side, he sensed an erratic heartbeat and the fear-filled aroma of a slayer and surmised that Angelus had managed to get free.

Turning to Xander, he nodded towards the door and quickly slipped outside.

Xander followed the vampire.

"Mate, I can't do it. I can't stake Dru. I wish we could just let her go," Spike whispered as he began pacing in front of the car. "I don't want her dead. I just want her gone—as far away from me as possible. A hundred and forty years—"

"Spike—"

"—I can't just stake her and say, 'easy come, easy go.' I've been in love with her more than half of my life—"

"Spike—stop it! Listen, how 'bout we just shoot her up with tranqs...dump the whole gun in her and take her somewhere. You know anyone that may want to take care of her after all this is done?"

Spike's eyes widened in disbelief. "You'd do that?" He asked the younger vampire, leaving off the 'for me', but knowing Xander understood what he was saying.

Xander shrugged as he rolled his eyes. "You say that's she's my sire as well as Deadboy. Well, Dru's evil—but it's not personal. Not like Angel. I have to trust you with this—and if we stake her, your judgement may get skewed. So..."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Spike nodded. "Thanks," he whispered as his mind was already working out a plan. "Okay, here's what we'll do. You go in there and secure Dru and Buffy. And I'll go and get Faith and kill the prick. Sound good?"

Pursing his lips, Xander nodded once. "One condition."

"What?" Spike asked scowling.

"If you can, stake him with me in the room. I want to see it."

Spike chuckled as he shook his head. "Deal."

He then turned around and headed back to the house all the while wondering if Harris wasn't his childe after all.

He sure as hell acted like it.

~~~~~~~

Knowing that he wasn't quite ready to real with Buffy's presence, he ignored her pale, dead body. Instead, Xander picked up Dru's unconscious body and quickly left the mansion.

It wasn't until he had her in the trunk did he unload the tranquilizer gun into her already dead-like body.

As each dart hit her, he silently questioned his actions. Not because he was having second thoughts, but because he wasn't having any.

He didn't want her dead either.

And what unnerved him the most about that was it wasn't because Xander had any personal feelings about Dru; on the contrary, he could care less if she lived or died. It was that he didn't want Spike to hurt.

He saw the vampire's love for the insane childe of Angelus' and Xander couldn't help but want to ease the other vampire's burden. If that meant that Dru should live, than so be it. Xander had a feeling that without Spike or Angelus, Dru's impact on the balance of things was going to be minimal, if not undetectable. Her deadliness always seemed to be in consort with her love of the two male vampires. Without them in her life, Xander doubted that Dru had the emotional or mental strength to stir up any trouble.

As he closed and locked the trunk, Xander shook his head and hoped he was right. Because if he wasn't, he knew without a doubt that Dru would be a force to be reckoned with in the future.

~~~~~~~
Spike should've known that he wouldn't be able to sneak up on Angelus.

The bloody prick was nothing, if not aware of Spike's presence. As his favorite childe, Spike had had the pleasure of sharing blood with his sire for so long, that before Angelus was cursed, they could sense each other's emotions as well as pinpoint one another's whereabouts.

Dru might have been an obsession for his sire, but Spike knew that he was the closest thing to being a true mate and companion for Angelus.

That's why everything the year before had hurt so much.

For over a hundred years, he was everything to Angelus—a childe, a lover, a friend, a companion, a confidant.

And in five months, Angelus destroyed it all.

Tore Spike's heart out and spit on it with contempt.

All because the demon hated the thought it could have any 'human' feelings at all—whether it be towards a cute but deadly blond slayer or his favorite childe—a crippled and broken vampire.

The reason Dru was now perfect for Angelus was because the demon had no emotional bindings to the vampiress other than maybe wry.

"Spikey...glad to see you could join the party," Angelus said, tossing a wooden stake in his hand.

Spike chuckled sardonically as his hold tightened on the staff, silently thanking the watcher for having access to the slayer's weapons. Only a slayer would have a staff that wielded a point as sharp as any stake.

He quickly glanced over to the body on the bed and quickly took inventory of her injuries. Faith had been beaten and tortured, obviously raped—but she was still alive.

Maybe things weren't as bad as they seemed.

"Angelus, I see that you've been enjoying yourself," he said, leaning against the door frame.

His sire snorted contemptuously. "The bitch tastes nasty for a slayer. Now Buff, on the other hand...delicious," he said, kissing his fingertips.

Spike nearly flinched, but caught himself. Instead, he just nodded, silently acknowledging the point in his sire's favor. "So, now what, mate? Are we going to stand here for an eternity or what?"

Angelus grinned. "You always were the impatient one, my boy. Why are you in such a hurry to die?"

Spike snorted as he pushed himself off the doorframe. "Bloody git, you were always too arrogant for your own good. Where are all the fledglings? Left your perimeter unguarded. Getting sloppy, old man."

Angelus looked up underneath his eyelashes. "Who said I didn't want you here, oh childe of mine? Maybe I did it on purpose."

"Yeah right. Admit it, you just fucked up and lost. You want to know what I think, oh sire of mine?"

"What?" his voice was cold and emotionless.

"I think you want to die. I think somewhere inside of you, you fear that you're turning into another Dru, and your pride being what is, you detest that you're losing it. You see what your future is every time you look at her and you hate it. And what better way to go then at your favorite childe's hand?"

That's all it took for Angelus to lose it.

Stake up, he leaped at Spike.

And just as quickly, Spike lifted the staff and held it out as Angelus' momentum impaled his body upon the wood.

Within seconds, Spike's sire and first love disappeared into a cloud of dust.

Spike's knees buckled as his hold on the staff loosened. Falling down on his knees, he stayed there and stared at the dust...all that was left of his sire.

Angelus, the Scourge of Europe was no more.

 

Chapter Twenty





"Spike! She's awake!" Xander's panicked voice shook the blond vampire out of his painful stupor.

Wiping his face, Spike stood up and glanced over at the other slayer.

She was a mess.

Thank the gods for slayer's accelerated healing abilities, he thought to himself as he walked over to the bed.

Sitting down next to her, Spike couldn't help but feel his teeth itch in hunger at the smell of her freshly spilt blood. Like heroin slayer's blood was. Growling softly, he reached over her and quickly undid the nipple clamps, ignoring her hiss of pain and the aroma of fresh, slayer's blood.

"Should've chained him to something," Spike said softly as he tossed the clamps over the side of the bed.

"I realize that now," she spat out in between her clenched teeth.

Chuckling, he broke the chains. "What is it they say about hindsight?"

She rolled her eyes as her head fell back onto the bed. "Can you get this collar off? I don't want to die with it on," she added softly, oblivious of the fresh tears staining her cheeks.

Sighing, Spike slipped his fingers underneath it and ran them across the soft worn leather of its underbelly stopping at the lock. He slipped his hand underneath the cloth, posed to pull the sections apart. "Take a deep breath, love and remember that I'm not trying to choke you, okay?"

Nodding, she filled her lungs and then met his eyes.

Spike broke the lock and handed the collar to her.

He stood up and just as he was about to pick her up, she stopped him by squeezing his arm. "Is there anything I can put on around here?"

Biting back the urge to growl, Spike stood up and walked over to the closet and spotted a discarded robe laying on the chair. He picked it up and thought of his Buffy out there, being oogled by a hormonally challenged newly-turned vampire and growled again. Flinging the door open, he instantly spotted one of his sire's shirts and pulled it off the hanger. He then turned back to the slayer and tossed the shirt in her direction.

"Thanks," she whispered before wincing sharply as she sat up. Grinding her teeth, she slipped her arms through the sleeves and closed two of the buttons. "Ready whenever you are."

Tossing the robe across his shoulder, he strode over to the bed and slipped his hands underneath her legs and lifted her into his arms.

Together, they left the bedroom and made their way back to the front of the house.

~~~~~~~
Hunger.

Deep, body-wrenching hunger filled her.

Rage.

Fear.

Hatred.

Sorrow.

Buffy's eyes snapped open to stare at Xander who was leaning over her. Growling, she tried grabbing him, not even sure why she needed to, but sure that he would somehow help the conflict inside her. Unfortunately for her demon, he fell backwards and out of her reach.

She tugged on the chains.

"Buffy, hold on. Just a few minutes," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "Spike! She's awake!"

She tipped her head.

Spike...Spike...

Suddenly flashes of her dream came to her. She, lying in the darkness, crying. Spike coming for her and taking her into his arms...calming her fears...whispering his love for her.

The plan...Faith...Angelus...she was a vampire.

Buffy growled and jumped at the sound of her own voice.

A vampire. She was a vampire and she had to drink from Faith. Only Faith. Not Xander. Not pig's blood. Not some poor kid that was walking down the streets of Sunnydale alone. But Faith...because Faith was important...important because Faith was a slayer...like Buffy.

Never before had there been a successful turning of a slayer...'slayer's go mad if they're turned, love,' he'd said. Buffy'd go crazy...but not if she drank from Faith.

"Faith," she whispered through her clenched fangs.

"She's coming, Buff. Spike's bringing her down now. Spike!"

"Geez Xander, are you sure you're a vampire?" Faith's weak voice echoed through the room.

Buffy's head shot up and instantly she felt herself calm down at the sight of her lover.

"Spike..."

"I'm here, baby," he whispered as he walked across the room and stopped in front of Xander. He slowly placed Faith down in front of him.

Every cell in Buffy's body was screaming to break the chains and just drink from Faith. She was human. Buffy could feel Faith's erratic heartbeat and smell the richness of her blood as it seeped into the air.

But she didn't. The slayer part of her stopped the demon cold and she could feel the two parts warring in her body, grappling for control...for domination over the other.

She shut her eyes, whimpering softly.

A hand pressed against her cheek.

Her eyes shot open to see Spike squatting in front of her. Blood tears filled her eyes as she took in his ragged appearance and suddenly she realized she hadn't felt her sire. "Angelus?"

His eyes shut briefly, but not before Buffy saw his pain in them. "Dust, love."

Biting her lip, she nodded once. "I'm sorry, Spike."

~~~~~~~
"Xander?"

His eyes dropped down to the scantily covered slayer on the floor and he found himself at a loss. He didn't know what or how he felt about this young woman—the only woman he had slept with as both a human and a vampire—a woman that he had admired at one time and hated other times.

"Yeah Faith?"

She swallowed hard, blinking her eyes. "At my apartment—there's a letter to the Mayor. Can you mail it for me?" She turned her head, ashamed at her tears. "Maybe he'll listen to me and stop the Ascension himself." She looked up at him and tugged on his hand. "Also, I need to tell you something...you guys need to know this..."

"Know what?"

She grimaced and her face paled. "Wesley. Angelus turned him. Mayor arranged a safehouse. I don't know where. Just in LA...Xander, I'm not sure, but he may've been the one that killed Buffy's dad."

"Fuck."

Faith nodded, her jaw clenched. "I—I didn't—I wouldn't—wouldn't have let him go, if I'd known that was his plan...it was wrong."

Xander pursed his lips as he forced himself not to respond. She was right—it was wrong. And he understood her moral code, if he didn't agree with it himself. He lifted a hand and brushed her hair off her face. "I know, Faith."

She met his eyes and gave him a small smile. "I like you better this way, with a soul. Take care of B, will ya? Help her. Make sure Blondie doesn't leave her." She gave him a small smile as she leaned into his hand and closed her eyes.

"I will, Faith," Xander said softly as he watched her chest go up and down with each breath. He looked over at Spike and Buffy to see Spike watching them.

"Is she ready, mate?"

Xander nodded as he slipped his hands under Faith's prone body and picked her up. "Damnit!"

Faith's eyes snapped open as an ironic grin curled her lips. "Such a softy, Xan. It's okay. I'm okay with this—" she stopped, biting her bottom lip as her eyes filled with tears. "My fault, okay? And B knows this—we're five-by-five."

Groaning at her use of her favorite phrase, he nodded and scooted over to sit in front of Buffy. He looked over and met his best friend's now-demon eyes and wasn't surprised to feel an earth-shattering ache quake his undead body. God, he missed Buffy already. The human Buffy. "Buff?"

Her face changed as she gave him a gentle smile and looked down at Faith. Her chained hand reached down and tucked a dark strand of the other slayer's hair behind her ear. "Faith—thank you," she whispered and kissed the slayer's forehead. Suddenly, the blonde's faced morphed into that of a demon's as her hands lifted Faith's unprotesting body onto her lap. She gathered the other slayer's hair in one hand and held it as a sob racked Buffy's body. "I can't—"

"Love, you have to," Spike said, his eyes sad, as he gently caressed her face. "She wants this. You know you have to—"

"It's wrong. God help me, it's wrong!" Buffy's yellow eye's filled with blood tears as she shook her head frantically. Suddenly, she roared as her head shot down and her fangs latched onto Faith's neck.

Xander had to give Faith credit. She didn't even flinch.

~~~~~~~
It was almost as if a part of her was standing back watching the whole thing—her, Buffy Anne Summers, slayer extraordinaire drinking the blood of her sister-in-arms. She could feel her demon scream in victory as it savored Faith's rich, magical blood. And even though a part of her felt disgusted and hated herself with every fiber of her being, there was another part of her that understood almost on a molecular level that this was the right thing to do.

With every swallow her body took, she felt stronger, more aware of her body, almost as if she was taking over, instead of the demon.

Ironically, the demon seemed too drugged out to even care. All it wanted was the blood. The sweet, taste of blood made it happy.

As it faded back, allowing her soul to surface, Buffy found the white noise and confusion she has been feeling earlier had faded. Now, everything seemed just more there...more real, if that were possible. She could hear everything, from Faith's slowing heartbeat to Xander's fingers nervously tapping the floor. She could feel Spike's presence—more so than she ever had as just the slayer.

What was happening to her?

She lifted her head, pulling her fangs out of Faith's neck and sighed as she heard the other slayer's final heartbeat. Not even aware of her face changing back to its human countenance, she looked down at the woman that had given her life in order that Buffy could live and felt her face crunch up in pain. Her eyes filled as her body shook.

Without much thought, Buffy yanked on her arms in order for her to hold Faith's cooling body closer to her, pulling the chains from their holdings in the wall, breaking them. As she held the limp body in her arms, ignoring the stench of death that was already emanating from the body, Buffy mourned.

For her human life. For Faith's life...Angel's...Xander's...and her father's.

Buffy cried as only a slayer-vampire could, red blood tears of a demon's, and the heart and innocence of the Chosen One.

~~~~~~~
Spike scooted over and sat next to his lover as his eyes sought out Xander. "Call the Watcher. She needs them," he said softly as he wrapped his arm around her shaking shoulders.

Xander nodded, wiping his face and pulled out the phone from his coat pocket. He stopped before dialing and looked over at Spike. "Is it done? Any more surprises for us?"

Spike felt his body tense at the question. Was it done? He asked himself as he searched his mind for any errant facts that he could've forgotten with all the stress and pain of the past few hours.

He found nothing.

"It's done."

The boy nodded and quickly dialed the number as he scrambled to his feet. Backing away from Spike, Buffy and Faith's body, he turned his back and spoke quietly into the phone.

Even though Spike could hear what the younger vampire was saying, he wasn't very interested in it. He was more concerned with Buffy.

Leaning his head against the wall, his mind went over everything that had happened in the past four days and suddenly he let out a loud, sardonic cackle. All this had happened in four fucking days?

Four days and everyone's life had been irrevocably changed—and not necessarily for the better.

And once he started laughing, he couldn't stop. It was too fucking crazy! What did Council say to him? That this was all big, huge mistake? A mistake—a bloody fucking mistake and he lost his sire, his princess and fell in love with the slayer.

A fucking mistake and now for the first time in history there was a successful turning of a slayer-vampire.

A mistake.

Soft fingers touched his face and he looked over to see Buffy watching him carefully. She had let go of Faith's body and had turned to face him. The wanker's red robe hanging loosely about her—was that a touch of breast Spike saw? Shaking his head, he met her swollen eyes.

"Are you okay?"

He let out a slow, chuckle and shook his head. "Did I tell you this was all a mistake?"

He felt her body tense. "A mistake? What do you mean?"

He snorted as he watched the whelp walk over to the front door. He couldn't even look at her when he told her this or he just might lose it and began crying like the sod he had become. "They told me that the Balance—the bloody, fucking balance got out of whack somewhere else and they had to scramble to right things. My sire was never supposed to lose his soul. Matter-of-fact he was going to be a bloody Batman in LA—fighting the good fight," Spike grinned to himself, picturing his sire with a black cape. "The kid over there wasn't so supposed to live the rest of his life as a souled-vampire. Me, I was supposed to stay in Brazil. At least for awhile. To be honest, I'm the only one that appeared to benefit from the craziness," he added as he thought about his near-miss at the hands of human demon-hunters and a fucking implant. "You," he paused and looked over at her, suddenly compelled to take her out of this house and into his arms and never let her go. "Were supposed to go to college, fall for some human git and be the bloody bane of my existence." He shook his head and pulled her into his arms. Wrapping them around her body, he buried his head in her neck and felt himself shudder. "And we would never know that we loved each other...each too stubborn and angry to admit it. Wasting our time beating the shit out of one another instead of shagging."

"Why? How did things get so messed up?"

He lifted his head and peered over her shoulder to see her face. She looked as confused as he felt. He kissed her cheek. "The Hellmouth, love. The situation was ready and waiting for things to be righted, and it spun out of control. The only way to fix it was for you to become a sane, slayer-vampire, the whelp to be a souled-vampire and me to finally commit to the Council."

"And now look at us."

"Three undead fools tied for the rest of our bleeding unlives to the Gray Council and fighting their fight."

"Any regrets?" She asked softly, leaning her head back so their lips were just millimeters from touching.

"A thousand, love, but they all seem to pale when I feel you in my arms."

She pressed her soft lips on his and sighed. "Me too."


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Epilogue





Buffy stared into the sunlight and for the thousandth time wished that the sun's rays felt natural on her skin like they had when she had been human.

Unfortunately, with her new state of being, they didn't.

The sunlight, an enemy of the undead and most of the demon world, didn't scorch her or burn her into a flame of ashes as it did the rest of the vampire population.

But it didn't like her too much either.

Although her skin didn't blacken like that of normal vampires when exposed, it just made her uneasy, almost like when her spider sense had acted up when she had been human.

"Spider sense and the sun—who'd have thunk it?" She asked herself softly.

She leaned against the brick wall and stared out into the slowly awakening city below her and wondered what those stupid powers had planned for her next.

It had been six months since she had awakened to find Spike pinning her down in her bed, making smart-ass comments about her sex-life and how he wouldn't mind 'a shag or hundred' with her.

Six months since Angel had lost his soul and Angelus had returned with a vengeance.

Six months since Xander had been turned and then re-souled.

Six months since Harmony, her father, Faith and at least a dozen or so humans had died at

the end of her sire's cruel teeth.

Six months since Angelus had been dusted and Angel's soul had been freed.

Six months since she and Spike had fallen in love.

And six months since Buffy had evolved from being a freak among humans to a freak among vampires.

"And what a long, strange trip it's been," Buffy quoted softly as her head fell and her eyes closed in memory.

How they had managed to stop the Mayor from Ascending was still nothing short of a miracle. From Buffy and Spike's planning and the Scooby Gang's recruitment, the graduating class of Sunnydale High had fought back and Giles, Buffy and the new slayer, Stephanie, had blown up the school to stop it.

If Wilkins had ever received Faith's letter, he didn't let it stop him. Instead, it had enraged him. Buffy nearly lost the remainder of her mortal friends to his machinations. Giles was almost killed in, of all things, a drive-by shooting. Only Xander's newly appropriated undead reflexes and quick thinking had saved her watcher from a painful death. Willow was stalked by a magic-stealing demon that wanted to suck the life out of her. Oz had a spell placed on him that forced him to remain in wolf-state for three extra days until Spike found the counter-spell. And Cordelia was nearly drained.

But they made it. And blew the mayor back into Hell itself.

And Buffy even graduated.

Wonders never ceased.

So, here she was in LA, waiting. For what, none of them knew. While Willow and Oz stayed in Sunnydale with Giles, her mother and Stephanie—Xander, Cordelia, Spike and she were in LA, living in an old building that Angel had bought a month before he had died.

Apparently, he had been thinking of leaving Sunnydale.

Buffy blinked the tears away and sighed. She could almost hear him explain to her why he was leaving her—it was too hard—he loved Buffy too much. No one had accepted his return. Giles. Xander. Her mother.

Each excuse felt like a silent betrayal, even though he had never had the chance to say them.

Angel was gone before he had even left.

But then, Buffy thought, hadn't she been as guilty of that as he had been? Scrambling to hold onto something that would lead her down the road to nowhere, desperately in love with a soul that was constantly battling a demon to remain in control?

Hadn't that fight at the Bronze his last night alive been a bit too real for comfort? Wasn't she the one bemoaning how apart, yet tied to Angel she was? Wishing and wanting for more, but knowing where it would lead?

Isn't that why she had fallen so hopelessly and deeply in love with Spike? Because in reality, Angel was already gone and had been since they had made love in his bed the year before?

A million regrets...

...and yet, things weren't that bad. Yes, she missed Angel but somehow the pain wasn't nearly as bad now that she knew his soul was finally free from the pain of unliving. His fate would've been far worse if Angelus had remained among the undead. She could stand outside in the sunlight—thank God for her slayerness—and her need for blood was minimal. And yet her strength as a vampire was double the norm.

It could've been a lot worse—a lot worse.

And she wasn't alone. She had Spike, Xander and Cordelia were there—ready to jump into the fray when things got out of hand.

She had their friendship and love. She had a soul.

There were still some unfinished matters that came from the great debacle of last spring. There were rumblings in the undead community of a new master who was smart as a whip and as cruel as Angelus. Buffy knew it had to be Wesley, but she had yet to find him.

He would die...for her father and the countless others that suffered his abuse and cruelty.


And of course, there was Dru. Still alive and talking to the stars according to Spike. He had found someone to care for her—one of his childer's, Jonathan, who lived in Russia. Neither Buffy nor Spike knew how long that arrangement would last, but everyone hoped that it would be for as long as possible.

Spike. Buffy smiled to herself as she thought of her lover, his taut body wrapped around her, introducing Buffy to the joys of vampiric sex as well as teaching her what he had learned in his 200 years of unliving. God, did she love him. So thoroughly and completely that sometimes she wondered how she could've managed to survive without him. He brought life and laughter into every facet of their lives. He continually kept her on her toes and at the same time treasured her.

She knew, without a doubt, that he was the best person to live her unlife with. Angel, if he had lived, had too much pain and regret clouding his life, to ever give fully of himself. Or accept her as she was now.

She took one last look at the sky and whispered a soft thanks into the air. One thing she knew for sure, none of this would've been possible if it hadn't been for Faith.

God, she missed her. She had been the brave one in the end. Not Buffy or Spike or Xander. But Faith. She had faced her duties and done them without complaint. She had bared her neck for Buffy and given the slayer a chance at a new life. One that Buffy would never have had as just the slayer.

Sometimes, Buffy would swear she felt the other slayer's presence—a sardonic laugh filling the air. A whispered affirmation that everything was all right. 'It's five-by-five, B.'

"Yeah Faith," she said, smiling. "It sure is."



The End