¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

My spirit’s sleeping somewhere cold

Until you find it there

And lead it back home

Wake me up inside

Save me

Call my name and save me

From the dark

Bid my blood to run

Before I come undone

Save me

Save me from the

Nothing I’ve become

Now that I know what I’m without

You can’t just leave me

Breathe into me

And make me real

Bring me to life

-Evanescense, Bring Me to Life-

¤

Lesson the Forty-Eighth

¤

In his bed Theodore had iced tears slipping down his cheeks. His being had been filled with the woman he loved for the last few seconds of her time on earth and he had breathed her in and shown her everything he had wanted for them. Her presence still surrounded him, her hand soft and smooth in his, her smile warm and loving... But he knew she was gone forever and the sorrow which now filled him was not of this world.

The tears turned to frozen patterns on his cheeks and he leaned his head back and screamed out his grief. In the next instant he was moving, completely ignoring the pain coursing through him as he ran through the City and out of it, climbing the passage and halting as he reached the cave which had so recently been part in writing history... as well as future. He walked forward slowly, his gaze fastened on the still kneeling Buffy.

She looked up as he approached, her cheeks stained with tears and fresh ones glittering in her eyes. Her hands were still tainted with gray ashes and he felt an inexpressible ache in his chest at the sight of it. Then he knelt down beside her and slid one hand in one of hers, having her gaze rest in his and she smiled a little. He returned it easily in the knowledge that Maeve had meant so much to the both of them that their grief now intermingled.

Their loss was different, and still the same.

He bit back his tears as he realized that the command had now been left over to him. He got to his feet, pulling Buffy with him and then letting her hand go as he turned to those of hers who were still bearing witness to the scene. He suppressed the gnawing need to be alone with his thoughts and concentrated all of himself on the enormous responsibility now on his shoulders.

I’ll carry it with pride, he thought, producing Maeve’s face before his eyes. For you, my love. I shall do your wishes justice, and lead them through respect – not fear...

His thoughts trailed off. The fact that the princess was gone seemed too large to fathom. Yet it was a new reality which he found himself in the middle of. No day would be the same again. This was the first claim of victory and with the rising triumph in his breast he closed his eyes and sought Matthew.

‘She is dead,’ he declared.

Matthew drew his stake into the vampire he had been fighting and then paused as the voice of his friend bore into his mind.

‘I felt it,’ Matthew said. ‘But there is something more...’

‘Maeve,’ Theodore interrupted.

‘Is she...?’

‘She put her stake through the princess’ heart, but the moment saw her unfit to guard off an assault herself and Clara...’

Matthew felt his throat grow tight and then he said:

‘I am sorry.’

‘Sorrow strikes too hard, Matthew – we will have to push away the blow for another fortnight.’

‘Yes.’

‘What is our status?’

‘It is too early to tell. With Clara gone I believe the upper-hand falls entirely on us.’

‘See to it that the streets quiet. I shall go to Sam myself and then...’

The sudden quake of the bedrock beneath his feet silenced him and he opened his eyes to meet Buffy’s surprised expression. Another tremble had them both turn their attention on the others of the party. Cordelia was holding onto Angel, Willow looked worried and Spike sought Buffy’s gaze. She met it, wanting to look calming and doing a very poor job at it.

Theodore hesitated. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but when a large piece of the wall broke loose at the next shake and slid heavily to crash against the cave floor, he didn’t need to turn it over in his mind anymore.

“You need to get out,” he said, turning back to Buffy. “Right now.”

He swirled around and ran up to the opening through which Clara had intended to go. He knew it well. It was a shortcut to the gateway and all its affiliated branching passageways. Clara had been heading to the surface after all. The closest route to take was that which lead to the gateway, but... Another violent tremor rolled through the passage they were all now traveling with extreme speed and he came to the conclusion that whatever old legends surrounded the gateway mattered little at the moment.

Is it Clara’s death which has brought this about? he wondered.

‘Theodore!’ Buffy said in his head and he looked at her. ‘The others. The slayers!’

‘They will be safe,’ he assured.

She nodded. She was growing tired quicker than usual, but she knew that these weren’t very normal circumstances. She had recently been drained, her body as well as her spirit had undergone a tremendous struggle, she had just seen a close friend murdered... She staggered, but Spike’s arm immediately slipped around her waist and steadied her. She raised her eyes to meet his and he smiled gently. She returned it, wrapping one arm around his waist as well and hugging him a little; more than anything grateful that he was there.

They saw an opening before them and just like that they were standing on the wide cliff hosting the wall of the gateway. The latter was black as night, the carvings gleaming in silver. Theodore looked over at the gathered people and said:

“The vampires must go through last and after that you have to move quickly. The passageway to the surface should collapse within no more than a minute. Understand?”

They all nodded.

Another great shake had a sudden noise rise from under their feet. The crackling grew louder as a split began to be seen. Buffy stared at it and then at Theodore with growing urgency in her stance. He nodded and then smiled a slight smile as he stepped up to her, taking both her hands in his and bringing them to his lips.

Buffy observed him, this silent being whom she had never fully gotten the chance to appreciate. Maeve had loved him, and Buffy thought she could see why as she met his gaze. There was a depth there that spoke of many things; a hidden quality acquired over the centuries of his existence, an elegance and grace, a gentleness and willingness to grant the benefit of the doubt. He was a strong warrior and Buffy understood, in that moment, that he would be the next ruler of the Holy City. She bowed her head respectfully, and though there was a flash of humor on his face, he still reciprocated the gesture with as much seriousness as she had directed it at him.

The split widened. The whole Hellmouth seemed to be roaring out its protest now – against what, none were the wiser. A sudden quiver threw them all off their feet, Buffy falling and landing on Spike, Willow being thrown into a nearby wall and going down on the hard rocks beneath it, Cordelia and Angel ending up in a heap a little too close to the edge of the precipice and Theodore landing flat on his back, looking up at the ceiling just as a large piece of it broke loose and he rolled to the side quickly enough to avoid being crushed under the huge block.

As it hit the cliff the split ran from one side to the other and the thinner part, turning into the path which lead to the Holy City, began to tear loose. Ever so slowly it began to crumble. Buffy got to her feet as Spike did the same. Angel helped Cordelia to stand and Theodore sat up before rising as well. The only one not moving was Willow.

“Will!” Buffy exclaimed, about to run up to her when the cave seemed to disagree and delivered a series of heavy quakes.

Theodore crawled over to the Wicca, checked for signs of injury and when there were no mortal wounds he lifted her into his arms. Angel and Cordelia were already on the gateway side of the ever widening split. Buffy turned to Spike and he nodded for her to jump over. She braced herself and then sped up, flying gracefully and landing on both feet. She swirled around just as Theodore handed Willow to Spike. He held her to him and exchanged a nod with Theo, who locked gazes with the Slayer one last time before turning and disappearing down the path to his home.

Spike took a few steps back, getting ready to jump when the rock shook once more and the gap became a threatening gape.

Buffy felt her heart stop in her chest.

No, no, no, no!

Spike stared at her, then at the redhead in his arms. They were too heavy to go over together... but one of them.

“Catch her!” he yelled and Angel stepped forward just as Spike threw Willow to the other side.

She landed easily in the other vampire’s arms and Buffy ran up to them, moving her hands over her friend and noticing a bump on her forehead, concluding that she was only unconscious. Turning around she expected Spike to be there, and when he wasn’t she furrowed her brow. Then her eyes landed on him still on the wrong side and the furrow turned into a deep frown as she stepped forward to the edge.

He was ready to give it one more try, taking a few more steps back just as another large part of the cliff before his feet suddenly slipped off and down into darkness. The cave seemed to have calmed slightly, though the tremors were still duly noted. The air was heavy with the scent of rippled dust flying through it. He barely noticed anything anymore – except for her. So beautiful, so strong. Yet her lip was quivering slightly and her eyes were filling with disbelieving tears.

He tried a small smile and she returned it.

She felt the rock beneath her feet begin to break away as well. If she didn’t step back she would go with it. She swallowed, turned to Angel and Cordelia, gave them a smile and then she ran forward, jumping off the edge of the cliff just as a large part of it tore free and fell to join its predecessors. Buffy sailed forth and landed on one bended knee on the other side. She straightened her posture to face Spike.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” he exclaimed and she smiled.

“I have no idea,” she replied with a laugh, then reached out and entwined her fingers with his.

He had to return her smile at that and then she looked over at the gaping Angel and Cordelia.

“Go!” she yelled. “Now! Run!”

They seemed frozen for another moment, then listened and did as she desired.

“Splendid,” Spike nodded. “Now what?”

Buffy gave him a look.

“Skip the skepticism and trust me, why don’t you?” she asked and he cocked an eyebrow as she began to drag him down the path.

“Trust is such an overrated word. Besides, wasn’t it you who just said you had no sodding idea what the bleeding hell you’re doing?” he snapped and she smiled again.

“I might have a vague idea,” she admitted.

“Well, this may be me being silly, but now that I have you here I don’t exactly feel like dying.”

“Do you think I’m leading you to your death?” she wondered, insulted.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he smirked, beginning to run as she did.

¤¤¤

Angel stopped before the gateway, Cordelia at his side. They tilted their heads back simultaneously, gazing up at the looming thing, and then looked at each other. They were both puzzled as to how exactly they were supposed to open it.

“Think there’s a button somewhere we need to push?” Cordelia inquired and Angel gave her a glance, then had a smile on his lips; which disappeared as the cave grinded with shakes once again.

“Let’s try and find one,” he replied.

Cordelia moved forward, reaching out her hands and about to place them against the dark stone when it began to move. The gateway was sliding open. She turned an astonished gaze in Angel’s.

“Well done,” he commended.

Willow groaned and moved her head a little.

“Let’s go,” Cordelia said. Angel hesitated and she glanced back to where Buffy and Spike had disappeared. “They’ll make it,” Cordelia added and Angel held her gaze for another moment before he nodded.

“Go first,” he said.

She did what he asked then turned her head to him as he stepped through. They both let their eyes wander around the new cave, which was opening up before them. All seemed at ease, everything growing still. Cordelia swallowed, she liked the calm less than the storm. The gateway began to close behind them and then a rock the size of a car crashed to their left. They both jumped at the sound of it.

They looked at each other for a short moment, then moved as one and started running through the passage leading into the cave which would take them further into the crater of the town formally known as Sunnydale. The ground underneath their feet trembled and quivered for every step. As they reached the place of the dragon’s dwelling there was no sign of the creature.

¤¤¤

The passageway that the Slayer and the Vamp were making their way through was so narrow that they had to walk in line, Buffy leading the way and Spike following. He kept his head bent as the ceiling was low. After another hundred yards or so he asked:

“And where are we?”

“Dorian’s pass,” Buffy merely replied.

“What an exact picture you paint, love,” he muttered and she smirked, though she didn’t look at him. He was silent for another few seconds, then said: “Slayer, why is it that we always find ourselves in the Hellmouth as it comes crashing down around us?”

She stopped at that and turned, catching his mouth with hers and kissing him so deeply it made his knees grow weak as she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. She let him go saying:

“Sorry, I’ve been dying to do that for so long now, and do me a favor: stop asking good questions ‘til we’re outta here, okay?”

He smiled rather sheepishly before giving a nod. She returned his smile warmly, then began to move again and he easily followed. The passageway quivered, pebbles breaking loose every so often, finding their way down the walls and scattering over the floor at their feet.

“Are we bloody there yet?” he asked and she smirked again. “How do you even know about this place?”

“It’s where I took you,” she replied, “when we went back to the surface.”

Just as she said that they could see a small opening in the cave wall up ahead. The sight was accompanied by a loud roar and when Buffy turned her head to look back she could only see a rapidly approaching cloud of thick dust.

“Oh, darn,” she murmured and in the next instant they were running for all what their paranormal strength could provide them with.

They burst through the opening running straight into Angel and Cordelia, the latter letting out a squeak with fright, though her eyes were already larger than usual. Buffy grabbed her hand and pulled her with the rest of them as they raced unceremoniously toward the cave mouth. At one point Buffy was certain they would all lose their balance and that the approaching avalanche would claim them. She even saw a plaque with their names screwed to the stone wall outside the filled-up opening.

“In memory” it would say “of five brave souls who boldly went where no man had gone before.”

How tacky.

They reached the cave mouth and all threw themselves through it just as the whole gape of it came tumbling down in falling rocks and rising dirt and grind. Safety. Earth. Air. Life. They had cleared it. How strange that no matter how many times they managed to flee from the very grasp of certain death, it never seemed to stop being short of amazing a feat.

After what seemed as a much too short span of time everything grew perfectly still. The stuff which filled the air slowly settled and the five forms on the ground coughed, turning over from their stomachs to their backs and looking up at the high pile of rocks starting just at their feet.

“Well... is it just me, or are we getting too old for this?” Cordelia said.

Buffy smiled.

“Yeah,” she agreed sitting up and the others did the same. “Saving the world is getting a bit dated. We should let generation Next take over.”

“We would’ve liked to have helped, at least,” Camelia said and the ones on the ground turned their heads to look behind them, “but we didn’t really get a chance,” the slayer finished.

She was indeed behind them, and behind HER stood the primal force which would have tried to stop the Ancients, had they for some reason come streaming out of the cave. Among the over one-hundred slayers were Gin and Deliah. Supported against half of them were the battered and beaten and bled slayers, Jessie being one of the ones Buffy spotted first. They exchanged tired, but exalted smiles before the Slayer stared at the rest of them. Her kin, in every sense of the word. Slayers to the very tips of their fingers. They had waited here... had probably listened to the rumble coming from before them and thinking it was the prominent sound of battle... They had readied themselves for it and for the possible demise of them that it brought with it... Buffy felt a pride she had scarcely experienced fill her. To be linked to them and they to her. It was something extraordinary indeed.

Camelia moved forward and soon a few more followed, helping the ones on the ground to their feet.

Buffy looked at Willow, who just touched her forehead and winced in pain.

“You okay?” the blonde asked and the redhead met her gaze, then shrugged.

“I’ve had worse, I’ll heal,” she nodded.

“Head ache?”

“Getting one.”

“Concussion?”

“Buffy, I’m all right. Really.”

The Slayer looked her over once more, then gave a nod and smiled. Willow returned it without hesitation, though it did grow stale the next moment and she thankfully let one of the slayers help support her.

Buffy watched them and then she drew a sharp breath before sneezing from the dry earth covering her. Spike smiled as she turned to him. She smiled back, feeling how her love for him began to blossom in her heart and she had to step up to him, putting her arms around him and he buried his face in the cranny of her neck as he pressed her to him. They couldn’t bring themselves to let go, even though Camelia said they should head back to the camp. The sun was just about to rise. Finally the Slayer and the Vamp had to listen and they reluctantly pulled back and looked at each other.

“Hey,” Spike said and Buffy smiled widely.

“Hey,” she replied, then she started to chuckle, and he did as well, though neither knew what was so funny.

It didn’t take long before they were laughing out loud, leaning against each other without being able to stop. They received odd and quizzical glances from all around, but soon broad smiles began to show. At long last the two got hold of themselves, drying their tears and shaking their heads. Buffy reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, making him tilt his head into the touch and a soft smile placed itself on his mouth.

She looked at him for another moment, then there was no way to hold the ever-residing need back and she stepped into him again, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He returned it, feeling a warmth rise like butterflies within him as he held her body to his and felt her tongue gently play its well-known game with his own.

She relaxed into his embrace, giving herself to him completely and feeling every ounce of anxiety leave her.

The chapter entailing the Ancients was closed. It was over.

And both of them lived to tell the tale.

She smiled in the midst of the kiss.

“I love you,” she whispered.

“And I’ll never doubt it again,” he whispered back, his forehead to hers. “I promise.”

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

I hate you

I love you

Leave

Don’t go away

A scrape against silence

A knife against a plate

Makes the sound of

Need on hate

Heads I win and

Tails I’m lost and

Love equals pain

I am drifting

Without an anchor

Through your ambiguous region

A strange continent

Immune to all reason

And I’m flattered

By your

Grey matter

-Jewel, Grey Matter-

¤

Lesson the Fiftieth

¤

“It sucks that you guys have to leave so soon,” Cordelia grumbled unhappily.

“Aw, come on, you guys are like honey-mooners anyway, we’re totally cramping your style,” Buffy smirked.

“Oh, Freudian slip there, my dear?” the brunette quipped before giving the blonde a kiss on the cheek.

“We’ll be back,” Spike promised and Angel raised his eyebrows.

“Right, in six months or so, after what I gather,” he remarked.

“Hong Kong is quite the trip,” Buffy said. “But we’ll make it short and sweet. I figure if we don’t overstay our welcome we’ll have a chance to come back and visit again.”

“YOU figure?” Spike asked with a meaningful look and Buffy smiled sweetly.

“WE figure,” she corrected.

They were gathered in the hallway of his apartment. Their suitcases had been brought down to the awaiting cabs and Xander, Willow, Dawn and Giles had already stuffed themselves into one.

“Is Jessie fully restored?” Cordelia inquired as she and Buffy headed for the elevators, Spike locking up and Angel waiting for him.

“Not yet,” Buffy replied, pushing the button for the contraption and then sighing. “I can’t even imagine what it would be like to be kept prisoner like that,” she said. “I’m surprised they didn’t all go crazy from it.”

“Nah, slayers are a tough breed,” Cordelia stated with a smile and Buffy returned it just as the elevator arrived.

The doors slid open and as Angel and Spike joined them they stepped inside.

“Before I forget, have you heard from Fred?” Buffy asked and Angel nodded.

“She called me late last night. There’s little progress, but she sounded hopeful. I think the Arderia were mostly governed by Clara anyways, and now when there’s no one to pull the strings the puppets can’t dance as well anymore.”

“Oh, well put, sweetie,” Cordelia said.

“I thought you might like that,” he smirked, meeting her gaze and as she was standing close he bent down and stole a kiss.

She stole it back and they shared a smile, one that spread to the others as they watched them. Spike’s hand slid to Buffy’s waist and pulled her to him, having her look up at him in a foolish glow of affection. Was it legal to be this content? She was growing scared that someone above would spot them and deem it a crime against nature!

It won’t matter, she thought. They wouldn’t dare even try!

“When’s the last of the furniture coming?” Spike asked and Buffy focused back on the current.

“Two days tops, which in Los Anglish should be in about a week-and-a-half.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually moving,” Buffy stated. “I thought you loved your old place.”

“I did... but it’s time for a fresh start. And there were a few holes in the walls that can’t really be filled with plaster, if you know what I mean. Besides, who knows... might make the friendly neighbors out of us yet,” he said with a smirk to Spike, who gave him a not so heartfelt glare, then smiled a little as well. The doors of the elevator opened and all of them stepped out into the lobby of the building. “Well, I never thought I’d say it, but the major plus side of this arrangement IS that I’m one floor down from this nut,” he added with a shove into Spike’s side, “in case you guys ever share dreams again – all he has to do is stomp.”

“Hey, if we share dreams they’ll be nice ones with flowers and butterflies and birds,” Buffy declared. “And if there’s the occasional dark cloud, I’ll be there,” she added, receiving a kiss for that from Spike.

“Good, ‘cause I can honestly do without the stomping,” Cordelia confessed, Angel ruffling her hair and her amazingly enough not giving him a hard time about it.

They reached the curb and Buffy embraced Angel in a hard hug.

“Take care,” he said and she nodded.

“You too. We’ll talk soon,” she replied, getting into the cab with another kiss from Cordelia on her cheek.

“We’ll talk soon,” Spike repeated, shaking Angel’s hand and also getting a kiss from Cordelia before slipping into the seat next to Buffy.

They had four weeks of relaxation ahead of them in England before they boarded a plane for Hong Kong. Jessie had invited them to come and meet her branch – the Jades. They would spend no less than three months, and no more than five there; or so the agreement was between Slayer and Vamp. Buffy would have loved to stay longer, arguing that they weren’t rich and that they couldn’t make that trip very many times without wiping out their bank accounts. Spike had firmly stated that he had been in Asia a few more times than she, he dared to venture, and that no matter what they couldn’t become live-ins with the Jades. It wasn’t good for either party. Besides, they had to find their own home sooner or later – be it in Los Angeles or London or Lapland, it didn’t matter. She had bent then, and agreed that he was right. But she had done so with a sudden female glint in her eyes that told him more than anything how ready she was to do just that – create a home for them.

He smiled at the memory and glanced over at her. His eyes met hers, which unabashed were studying him. His smile broadened and then she moved a little closer, linking one arm with one of his.

They were on their way.

¤¤¤

“Home sweet home,” Dawn breathed as she stepped into Giles’ house. “What... is that stench?” she added and Giles, following her, halted.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, walking passed her and into the study.

“I hope not,” she jeered, proceeding after him with as much determination as his stance held.

He stopped at his desk and brought out a large flat tray hosting three small eggs. All were smashed into smithereens. Dawn blinked, then crossed her arms over her chest.

“HOW many times have you told me No Food In The Study? I thought for sure you were gonna slap me around the room that one time that I – totally innocently – slinked through with a sandwich in my hand, and...”

“Alright, when you are quite done might you do me the favor of asking your sister to come in here?”

Dawn closed her mouth, differing from saying anything more and leaving the room for the hallway.

“What’s with the foulness?” Buffy asked, waving a hand around, indicating the stale smell hanging in the air.

“Giles wants to tell you; he’s in the study,” Dawn answered with a bored look. “And maybe you should bring a skillet,” she added as Buffy headed in there, the latter giving her a wondering look and Dawn not elaborating as her sister disappeared from view.

Spike and Xander brought the luggage in and Spike threw the suitcases on the floor with a mutter.

“I agree,” Xander nodded, though Dawn hadn’t heard anything intelligible come from the vamp’s mouth. “And then they complain about us when we have the need to spend an hour in front of a football game.”

“Yeah, like it’s the end of the world that we wanna be bloody self-centered for a while,” Spike nodded.

Dawn looked at them with raised eyebrows and when they noticed her they returned the look.

“Men,” she said, turning and walking into the living room.

Xander and Spike exchanged a glance and then said in affirmative unison:

“Women.”

¤¤¤

Spike couldn’t help it, he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Giles was running his hands through his short hair for the thirtieth time, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I don’t understand it! They weren’t supposed to hatch for another two months, at the least! I never would have been so irresponsible as to leave them here if I wasn’t absolutely sure... Oh, what difference does it make now?”

“None,” Spike stated, biting his tongue at the glare Buffy shot him.

He had gotten a few in the past ten minutes.

“It’s not irreparable damage,” she then said, gaze on her Watcher. “We’ll find them and... What do we do with them, kill them? They sound pretty harmless.”

Spike huffed and she turned to him, hands on hips.

“Got anything to say?” she wondered and he put on an innocent expression.

“No! No, it’s only that this whole think-before-you-kill might be good in some instances, but that these little critters aren’t exactly prone to lie on the soft side of the bed. And judging by the stench in here I’d say they’ve been on the loose for at least three days. That’s a helluva head start, love,” he said, looking at Giles as he added with ill-hidden sarcasm: “They weren’t a pet project, were they?”

“As a matter of fact, no,” Giles replied, overlooking the tone. “I was keeping them here for a friend who is researching the...”

“Bleeding shame then,” Spike interrupted, not able to hide the glee, “that we’ll have to hunt them down.”

“Amiable of you to offer a hand, since you know so much of them,” Giles bit back with a stale smile, the irony evident in every word as he continued: “Be careful that they don’t chop off any valuable parts.”

“Can they do that?” Buffy wondered, keeping her eyes by force from going to Spike’s groin. He noticed it, however, and a smirk unfolded on his mouth that was too contagious not to transfer onto hers. Then she looked away from him and said: “These eggs look tiny...”

“Don’t let size fool you,” Spike chimed in.

“It is only the place of their birth, once out and away from it they feed and...”

“Grow,” Spike offered helpfully and Giles took off his glasses with an irate movement, beginning to polish them.

“How much is ‘grow’?”

“The question should be how much do they need to feed off of until they’re fully grow,” Spike replied. “Grown,” he then corrected.

“What do they eat?”

“At first, small things... rats,” Giles said, looking from one to the other before he added: “When they’re larger their favorite dish happens to be babies.”

“Babies?” Buffy asked. “Of what?”

“Of man,” Spike answered in Giles’ stead and Buffy’s eyes grew wide.

“Babies?!” she exclaimed, her gaze now hard in her Watcher’s and he seemed to shrink a little under it.

“Unfortunately...”

“I’m not discussing this anymore. Spike – draw a rough sketch of the ‘critters’. I’ll have them slain before nightfall.”

With that she turned and left the room. Giles sighed, returning his glasses to the bridge of his nose and then looking over at the Vamp.

“Happy now?” the Watcher grumbled and the bleached blonde raised his eyebrows.

“You can’t blame any of this on me!”

“I suppose those comments were my own doing?”

“You bloody well deserve them after harassing me for being careless for three years – on TOP of which you almost had me buggering assassinated over it!”

“I didn’t almost have you buggering assassinated over your laziness and inability to take anything seriously, you stupid vampire! I was trying to protect...I thought we had closed this discussion.”

“So we did,” Spike murmured after a moment’s silence.

Giles leaned back against the desk behind him and observed the being for a while. Finally he turned around and walked up to a rounded table hosting his finest brandy. Pouring two small glasses of the liquid he then grabbed a notepad and a pen from the desk, walking up to Spike and gesturing for the latter to sit. He also took a seat and handed the notepad and pen to the vamp, as well as placing one of the glasses before him.

Spike looked at it, and when he fastened his eyes on the Watcher he had raised his glass. Spike lifted his in a salute and as they drank their silent toast it seemed as though they reached some form of understanding.

Spike looked at the blank sheet of paper on his lap and then began to sketch the Grimora.

¤¤¤

Dawn stretched on the couch, the TV blaring a loud VH1 show and Dawn relishing in the normalcy of an evening in front of the machine. She looked up as Xander entered the room.

“Hi,” she smiled and he returned it before coming around to take the place at her feet. She observed him for a short moment before she asked: “What’s with the gloom?”

He shrugged.

“Nothing much, just got a call from my boss... He said I need to be back this week so I won’t be able to stay as long as I wanted,” he replied and Dawn pouted slightly.

He still wouldn’t look at her. He had been in this stage of being in the closer vicinity of her, and still feeling miles away, for days now. It annoyed her beyond reason, and it also dulled her a little with the sharp prickles of longing... The wanting to make him talk to her and see her and joke around with her again. She still wasn’t sure what had changed between them. She just needed it all to go back to the way it used to be.

“That’s not good,” she then said as a comment to what news he had just disclosed and he shook his head. “I was thinking about going into the town tomorrow... Do some shopping. See if I can whip us up a nicer New Years Eve... Wanna come?”

He leaned back, then turned his eyes in hers and for a moment she was utterly lost in their hazel depths, thinking how they seemed to host so many feelings at once. She was drowning.

A new sensation.

Not completely unpleasant, though the slight shock it left behind was something of a kind. She began to understand.

Oh, she thought to herself.

“Not sure the shopping bit is my favorite,” he now said casually and at first she didn’t know how to place the comment, then she remembered her entreaty for him to come with her and her face split into a smile.

“And here I thought I was one of them... Guess if you only see the shopping of the equation I’ve been seriously deluding myself.”

He paused for just an instant, reading her expression, and when he only saw friendly banter he returned her smile.

“I swear, you weren’t!” he assured. “But... I have to pack.”

“You’re not leaving for a couple of days, right?”

“I have some stuff I need to get ready for work... They can’t wait.”

“And you’ll have plenty of time on the plane to sit leaned over paperwork! You’ll be gone soon – to a place where I’M not! Spend a little attention on me, okay? I promise it’ll be worth while.”

He eyed her for the longest moment, then had a slightly melancholy look in his gaze before he shook his head.

“I can’t,” he said, rising and she stared at him.

She wanted to say something witty to make him think otherwise, but then he said goodnight and left the room. She mumbled a distracted goodnight as well, watching him go.

¤¤¤

Buffy walked at Spike’s side, silent as a statue. He glanced at her every few steps, but she kept her gaze locked on something down the road. She kept her sword in a tight grip in her right hand and when twenty minutes had elapsed he finally couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Did you HAVE to ride him like that?” she snapped. “Was it absolutely necessary? Am I so dumb to actually WANT the two of you to get along?”

“Buffy, we’re fine.”

“You know, I was so glad when you told me about your little tête-à-tête in L.A, but I suppose that’s so long ago now it’s bound to be forgotten by the two of you, huh? I’m sorry if you don’t feel like showing even an ounce of respect for the man that right now is our HOST and who’s like a father to me, but...”

“Buffy!” Spike stopped her, halting her step as he made her look at him. “We’re fine! We had a nice chat and a spot of brandy after you left. And as for the respect part – it’s not in me to sit idly by while so many perfect opportunities to mock pass me by, you know that! HE knows that. He may not approve of it, but... And I DO respect him. I think he senses that. I didn’t mean to make you so agitated, pet. ...Or is there something else?”

She looked at him, at once feeling foolish and feeble and not knowing on which foot to stand. Then she smiled a little.

“Spot of brandy, huh?” she wondered and he smirked.

“He poured it himself,” he stated.

“What was the chat about?”

“Hatchets being buried.”

“Thought you took care of that already.”

“It needed underlining... A big heap of stones on top.”

Her smile broadened at that and they commenced walking.

“I guess I’m a bit edgy, is all,” she confessed. “Didn’t think I’d be doing this quite so soon. And all that talk about losing limbs...”

He smirked again, receiving a push from her.

“So that’s where the loyalty lies. Dismember me and you’ll run for the woods,” he muttered.

She laughed.

“Never,” she stated.

A rustle from a nearby shrubbery made them exchange a look and the conversation was ended as they carefully headed over there.

¤¤¤

Buffy slipped the ruined jacket off her shoulders. It was covered in bluish guck, the blood of the Grimoras they had finally been able to track down and do away with. They were cunning, she had to give them that. Now she was exhausted to the brink of wanting to sleep until the end of days. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, registering with dislike the hollowness of her cheeks and the dark circles under her eyes. When did she start to look like this?

She turned on the water in the faucet to splash her face and then reconsidered, turning it off and moving over to the shower. Soon a steady stream of warmth was lashing at the tiles floor below.

She removed her sweater, grateful that it – at least – had been saved by the jacket. Then her boots, mourning them gravely. Then her pants, which brought forth a wave of irritation. This was nothing new, she went through this ritual every time she had to throw away clothes on account of her vocation. Which, naturally, had been more often than she could afford replacing them with new ones.

She sighed, collecting her long blonde locks in one hand and letting them fall over one shoulder as she did away with bra and panties. She glanced at herself in the mirror again and ran a hand over her flat stomach, over her breasts and up to her throat. It stopped there, her fingertips barely touching the markings of Clara, still fiercely red and at times tender if touched.

She ground her teeth and looked away, her gaze on the shower.

Oh, Heaven, she thought just as the bathroom door opened.

She smiled at Spike and he returned it before letting his eyes roam her form. She enjoyed it in silent mutiny of the aversion she had felt for herself just moments before. The desire kindled in his gaze made her heart beat elevate and she turned to him fully before she asked:

“Wanna join me?”

He tilted his head to one side, eyeing her, and then he nodded. She smiled again, this time brightly, and walked up to the shower; opening the door and proceeding straight into its steaming center. He looked at the outline of her visible through the tainted glass. In fact, his gaze didn’t leave it for one second as he with controlled movements removed his clothes. The longing made everything so much sweeter, the sense of foreplay residing in the mere act of getting undressed and watching the woman he loved as if through a mirror of another world... one that was only shadow and smoke... it was a different level of lust.

He had a smile on his lips as he opened the door as well, moving through it and into the beams of water already gliding over her skin. He wrapped his arms around her, and she around him, and they melted easily into one being.

¤¤¤

The next morning Buffy chewed her sandwich with a thoughtful expression on her face. Her eyes were occupied with taking in the view outside the dining room window. The sun filing through the branches, carried on crisp winds. Not a cloud in sight. Everything so peaceful it made her ache to be a part of it. And it also brought out a need in her to keep it this way, to get back into the still heated battle... She was torn, and wondered if she’d ever get out of the state.

Spike’s right, she thought. I’ll wait a few years and then we’ll see...

Speak of the devil. Spike entered the room, looking drowsy. She loved seeing him just awoken; he was so adorable she wanted to kiss him all over. He gave her a warm look and then went over to the table hosting coffee and tea. Making himself a cup of the latter he walked passed her, endowing her with a kiss on top of her head before he continued into the kitchen to prepare his breakfast.

The doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” Dawn’s voice sang from the second floor, her feet already eagerly thumping down the steps.

Buffy’s curiosity woke immediately and she rose, bringing her sandwich with her as she walked up to the doorway of the dining room, leaning against the frame and looking into the hall, where Dawn had just answered the front door. Outside stood a nicely groomed young man. He wore a dark blue blazer and a white shirt with blue jeans. He moved his sunglasses to the top of his head as his face split in a smile, directed solely on the younger Summers sister.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she replied.

“Ready?” he wondered and she nodded, reaching for her handbag.

“Oh,” she said, spotting Buffy, “good morning,” she added to the older before saying: “This is Chris. We’re just going into town for a while, okay?”

Buffy remembered the name. It was the boy Dawn had claimed to have fallen for, and hard at that. But... Buffy thought she was pretty down with the vibe reading – at least on other people – and there seemed to be no real emotional investment there now, at least not on her sister’s part. Interesting.

“Okay,” the Slayer simply replied to the others question and Dawn smiled her goodbye before closing the door.

“Who was that?” Xander asked and Buffy turned her head to him where he was coming down the stairs.

“Chris,” Buffy replied. “Dawn’s prospected boyfriend, if all goes well. Gallivanting around town might be just the ticket.”

She was about to turn and walk back into the dining room when the whitening countenance on one of her best friends halted her step. She did a double take and then she couldn’t help but stare. His jaw set and he blinked at least twice before he snapped out of it. Then he met her gaze and almost blushed before marching passed her and to the breakfast table.

Spike was already there, flipping through the morning newspaper with little commitment. Buffy sat down on the chair next to him, her sandwich in a slightly firmer grip than before and her gaze now studying the face of Xander, who plopped himself down on the space before her.

He grabbed a piece of toast and the jam, beginning to spread it in seeming oblivion to the scrutiny he was under. When he continued to ignore her, either by determination or by chance, she finally backed off. But now there was a puzzle that needed to be solved. Had she judged his reaction fairly? Was he just acting as the protective older brother? Or did he, actually, host some other form of feeling?

“Very peculiar,” she murmured to herself, trying her best to incorporate herself into the role of young Nancy Drew, in search of answers.

“What?” Spike asked and she smiled at him.

“That Giles forgot to put the sugar out... He can’t drink tea without it.”

Spike gave her narrowed look, and then he returned her smile, going back to the task of turning pages.

¤¤¤

Willow looked out of the window of the car. She felt her nerves tangle up and sedate the flurry of images rushing through her mind. For the passed few days she had dealt with a dilemma, and a grand one at that. It resided in her heart, but also – unfortunately – in her head, because that was where the indecision came from. Her heart already knew the truth, but her mind couldn’t decide how to read it properly. And she was unsure of herself. But she couldn’t deny it any longer. Being in Los Angeles had changed a lot of things for her, had open her eyes in some ways.

She had thought the past was long since forgotten, and that what she was doing was looking ahead, but sometimes...

The countryside glided passed, the moonlight stretching its shadows into strange patterns. Soon they turned into the gravel of the yard before a large house, which was currently the home of fifty young slayers. Spike turned off the ignition and Buffy and he got out, slamming their doors shut just as the front door of the house opened. Kennedy came through it, followed by Mary and Gabby.

Willow swallowed, her hands feeling clammy and her neck cold.

She really hated this, but knew there was nothing else she could do. She drew a breath and opened the

door, stepping out and closing it behind her. She leaned against it, not really willing to move away from it, as though it was what kept her in check. Then her eyes met Kennedy’s and she felt remorse as she could see the happiness spread in them.

Buffy and Spike walked into the house, accompanied by the other two slayers, as Kennedy approached her girlfriend.

Willow tried a smile, but it felt phony. She stripped it and Kennedy’s began to fade as well. The latter stopped a few feet away, wrapping her arms around herself and watching the other with sudden guard.

“It’s good to see you,” Willow said.

“Yeah, you too,” Kennedy confirmed, the questioning look on her face not making it any better. “Is something wrong?”

Willow chewed the inside of her cheek.

“A little,” she said. “But it’s me... that’s wrong. Or right... or... I dunno. I’ve been thinking over a lot of things and... and...”

“You’re breaking up with me, aren’t you?” Kennedy asked, tears quickly rising, their layer glittering in her eyes and Willow felt a part of her heart breaking at the sight.

“Kennedy...”

“No, no, it’s... alright. It’s... If that’s what you want then what can I say to...?” she trailed off, swiping at her tears. “I just... it’s sorta outta the blue, isn’t it?”

“Totally out of the blue! Out of the black, even... Space, and all that! But... It’s just this feeling I have that we’d be happier apart. I love you, Kyn, I really do! But...”

“I get it,” Kennedy said with a weak smile. “And maybe you’re right. It doesn’t feel like it just yet... but I guess it will.”

She moved forward and placed a soft kiss on Willow’s cheek and then she turned, in the matter of moments she was gone and Willow was alone. Well, more or less. She leaned heavily against her metal companion, but the sense of having done something right was so strong she couldn’t feel as sad as she should have, ending a relationship that had lasted more than a year.

She wondered what she should do now.

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Thank you

Thank God for you

The wind beneath my wings

-Bette Midler, Wind Beneath My Wings-

¤

Lesson the Fifty-First

¤

Dawn stepped through the door at six o’clock. Thirty minutes after Buffy, Spike and Willow left for what was to be known as the Revello-branch. She walked with her finds to the kitchen, as a lot of them were of the digestive kind. Putting them away she mused over what she had spent the day doing. Being with Chris was fun, and still she hadn’t stopped thinking about someone else for the whole time they were together.

So, this means I’m in love, she concluded to herself, feeling frightfully mature.

She wished she could somber up to the situation – since it was hopeless – but she knew that wasn’t how it worked. If anything, Spike had proved THAT to her.

Maybe I’m not in LOVE-love, she ventured. Maybe it’s just a crush...

“Have fun?”

She turned her head as Xander entered and she swallowed, her fingers feeling awfully clumsy. She put the jar of peanut butter down and then shrugged.

“It was okay.”

“Just okay?” he asked, not stopping until he was standing at her side and she shrugged again.

“The usual. Nothing much happened.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Looks like you’ve bought food in case of a nuclear disaster,” he remarked and she smiled tryingly, wanting to see how it fit before turning it at him.

As it seemed to slide on perfectly she finally met his gaze. She looked at his face and it hit her that she didn’t even think about the glass eye as made of glass anymore... She had the first few times she saw him after he had gotten it, and she supposed there was nothing remarkably weird with that, but she hadn’t even realized that the impression hadn’t lasted.

“With this crew you never know,” she now shot as reply to his comment and he smirked.

“Sorry I didn’t go,” he murmured.

“It’s fine,” she assured. “I mean, you were busy and...”

“I’m never too busy to spend time with a friend,” he interrupted gently and she stared at him, ignoring the sinking feeling in her chest and turning back to the peanut butter. “I just...”

He trailed off, and as her eyes fastened in his again he realized he didn’t have a good reason not to have spent time with her.

“I just...” he tried again, but no tolerably stupid lie would form on his lips and finally he just shook his head at himself. “I just wanted you to know that I wanted to go, but...” Whoa, not making it any better there, buddy. “But...”

She was having a tentative smile form on her mouth at his staccato sentences.

“I think you should’ve practiced this,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” he smirked, sighing. “It’s just that there’s a lot going on all the time, it feels like; and it’s like I don’t even have time...”

“To breathe?” she filled in before he had a chance to and he nodded. “I know the feeling. But, if you really are sorry, then you can help me set the table and then cook all the delicious food I’ve got planned.”

“Oh, great. This is what I get?” he asked and she shoved the peanut butter jar in his chest before walking passed him and up to the fridge.

“It’s what I deserve,” she stated over one shoulder and he gave her a look before smiling his agreement.

¤¤¤

The dining room was lit with candles, the table set with Giles’ nicest china and tallest glasses. The walls were decorated with garlands in festive colors and there was glittering sparkles strewn on the floor as well as between the placement settings on the table. It was a calm festivity which Dawn thought was precisely what the Gang needed. She was right.

Buffy’s eyes grew round at the sight of it, and she grabbed Spike’s arm, literally jumping up and down giving out small noises of clear eagerness. He merely smiled widely at her reaction, looking down at the dress she had chosen to wear. The green one that she had worn in the Holy City. He had commented on it, not able to hold his tongue, and she had said that first and foremost it was a Christmas present from Willow.

Buffy had washed it and actually, something which had caused his unused eyes to pop, sat down to try and fix the rips she had procured to it. She had given up, though, and had handed it over to Dawn, who had managed to salvage the fabric and even the slits running up on either side of the dress almost up the whole of the Slayer’s muscular thighs.

Spike had backed off with his questionings the moment she slipped into it – it looked much too good on her to be left in the closet. She looked healthier than she had in a while, and he was happy to notice that the stress was finally lifting. The damage that had been done to her would linger without healing for a longer while than he was willing to acknowledge, he was sure – but that was to be expected.

Now he put his arm around her shoulders.

“I love you like this,” he murmured in her ear and she smiled at him, kissing his cheek before they selected their spots.

Willow entered with Xander, the former looking a little distracted and Buffy knew why, having been told. As her friend sat down she mimed a ‘You okay?’. Willow nodded, though she didn’t smile and Buffy didn’t feel calmed. She decided to have a chat with the redhead later.

Dawn entered, wearing a sleek, light-blue satin gown which was out of this world and Buffy’s jaw dropped. She hadn’t realized how grown her sister had become.

She’s like me, she thought to herself, ahead of her years.

Giles was escorting the younger Summers and he let her take her seat before he took his. Dawn didn’t look at Xander, but her heart was racing and Spike picked up on it immediately. He couldn’t interpret it, though. He only succeeded in concluding that it didn’t have anything to do with anticipation for how her efforts with the party would be received.

Xander could barely keep himself from staring at this vision that just stepped away from the young girl he had told himself she still was, and straight into the young woman she had become. He directed his eyes on one of the candles before him and kept it there. They had had so much fun getting this evening prepared, and it had seemed as though they were slipping into their old habits. He had figured he had been able to wrestle down whatever sudden wants had arisen and now she was back to being... Dawnie.

Thank God I’m leaving soon, he thought.

The conversation was picking up. The food was on the table and everyone began to serve themselves. Buffy rose and got a bottle of wine, pouring it to those who wanted some. Laughter soon filled the room, scattered out the door and spread through the remaining and abandoned rooms of the house. The hours flowed easily. The food disappeared, as well as a few more bottles of some of the better years that Giles had kept on stock.

“I, for one, wouldn’t mind the Powers endowing us with a well-earned vacation until next fall,” he said, raising his glass.

“Hear, hear,” Spike agreed, mirroring the movement.

“Yeah, isn’t that odd... Wonder if May’s been abandoned as the Big Clash month... Perhaps we’ll never celebrate a proper New Years again!” Buffy said, though the drama in her tone was so fake it only made them all laugh. Once it died away she leaned against Spike’s shoulder, adding: “’Course I wouldn’t mind the Big Bads just standing down from now until...”

“...they don’t feel the tickle to come back?” Xander tried and she smiled.

“Something like that,” she agreed.

“Well, IF we ever have to bloody face a threat like this one – or even a minor one, a me-proportions one – can I, PLEASE, not be sodding hung up somewhere and tortured?” Spike asked and Buffy’s smile broadened before she patted his chest comfortingly.

“So, here we are,” Willow said. “I guess life actually does go on.”

“Isn’t that the strangest thought?” Dawn put in.

“I guess the whole shablam of it all hasn’t sunk in yet,” Buffy stated.

“Life won’t let it,” Xander said. “That’s the neat thing... The shock blends with all the impressions you’re forced to keep taking in afterwards, and then it disappears.”

“I hope so,” Buffy mumbled, not convinced.

“Well, I don’t think so,” Spike stated.

“I’m shocked,” Xander muttered under his breath, though both Slayer and Vamp heard it perfectly and he immediately tried to play innocent.

“The REASON for my not agreeing,” Spike continued, “is that nothing ever disappears that bleeding easily. If you don’t deal with it it’ll continue bruising ‘til it’s too late for you to do anything about it and you’ll have to live with the residue of it for the rest of your life.”

There was a long pause following this statement, where everybody’s eyes went around to those surrounding them, and then they all suddenly burst out laughing. They kept on laughing until none could breathe anymore – those who needed it – and then they made themselves calm down.

“Well,” Buffy smiled.

“Yes,” Dawn mumbled, still grinning as well, sinking back against her chair.

“To the future,” Xander said, raising his glass. “May it be... long and unlimited.”

They all raised their glasses to that, and a sudden feeling of somberness came over them as they drank the toast in silence.

“Unlimited,” Spike then agreed and his gaze met Buffy’s as she had a trace of a smile on her mouth.

¤¤¤

Willow picked up the phone the following day and dialed a number. She waited patiently and when the voice on the other end growled a sleepy ‘What?’ she drew a slight breath before she said:

“I need to talk with you.”

“Well, this is rich...” Tilla grumbled.

“Look... it’s important. I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t.”

“Fine.”

Willow sat down on her bed, hesitating.

“I want this just as little as you do...”

“What exactly is that? I don’t have all afternoon here, witch!”

“I need your help.”

“MY help?”

“Yeah... I need someone who knows the underworld of Paris... and that’s let in where not so many can go. After what you told Camelia...”

“Ratting little whisker of a human – I should teach her...”

“There’ll be NO teaching of any kind if you expect me to pay you for your troubles. Now that the glorious coming of your race isn’t as prominent as it was a few days ago I’m sure you don’t have anything better to do.”

“And the ‘pay’ will once again be me hanging on to my life for a few more months till you need my ‘help’ again?”

“No,” Willow replied, annoyed. “Cash. I won’t go above five-hundred for the whole gig, no matter what happens or what we come across down there.”

There was a short stretch of quiet, but Willow could sense that the other was about to agree. She merely smiled when her premonition proved true.

“Good,” she said. “I’ll expect you on the next flight out of the States for Paris and I’ll meet you by the southern leg of the Eiffel tower right after sunset in two days.”

“And exactly what are we...?”

“I’ll fill you in there. Have a safe trip.”

And she hung up, feeling a rising eagerness within as she got up and brought out her suitcase. She knew this was something she had to do. She had known it for longer than she would have liked to admit. Ever since the hardest layer of sorrow after Tara’s death was slowly peeled off by Kennedy, Willow had felt the loss of something else as well. Someone else. And now...

“What are you doing?” Buffy’s voice broke her thoughts and the Wicca looked up from the pile of clothes she was arranging on the bed. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going back to France,” Willow replied.

Buffy raised her eyebrows, quizzical.

“Now?”

“Seems as good a time as any, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” Buffy smiled a little. “I’m not even sure why I asked that. I meant to say ‘why?’”

Willow put the sweater in her hands down and paused as she thought over exactly how to explain it to her friend. Finally she chose the simple version, because she knew Buffy didn’t need a complicated one to understand.

“They have a large community of werewolves there,” she said.

Buffy blinked, frowned, and then her appearance brightened.

“What?” she asked slowly, not able to hide her surprise. “You think he’ll be there?” she then added.

“Chances are he has been, or that someone there knows him.”

“Willow, do you realize how dangerous that is?”

“Yes. I’m not going alone.”

“But... Wills, do you really want to drag all that up...?”

“It’s never been dragged down,” Willow snapped and Buffy closed her mouth to keep from saying anything else equally stupid.

“I’m sorry,” she finally got out. “I realize that. I just mean...”

“I know,” Willow interrupted again, this time softer as she threw her last pair of pants in the suitcase and closed it. “It’s just something I need to do. I don’t know what’ll come of it! As far as I know he’s married with a little flock of his own,” she added with a wry smile and Buffy laughed, hooking her arm in her friend’s before they headed downstairs. “I just have to see for myself. I feel like I’ve put myself on pause for such a long time. I need someone to hit the right button and get me going again.”

Buffy smirked at that.

“You do realize he’s a guy, right?” she then wondered and now Willow laughed.

“God, sometimes you’re so narrow-minded,” she teased and Buffy pouted as they reached the hallway.

“When are you leaving?” she asked and Willow sighed.

“Tomorrow,” she answered and Buffy nodded thoughtfully.

“I’ll miss you,” she said. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“Depends on how well he’s covered his tracks,” Willow replied. “But what are you complaining about. In three weeks you’re off to Hong Kong.”

“I’m not complaining. It’s just weird that we’ll all be split up so soon. Xander has to head back and you’re leaving...”

“Yeah,” Willow mumbled as they came into the living room, where the rest of the Gang was assembled.

They sat down on the couch next to Dawn and spent the afternoon playing cards and talking as if nothing was going to disrupt the quiet ever again.

“Well?” Buffy said after loosing yet another round of poker to her younger sister.

“Well, what?”

“Well, am I going to get my Christmas present or not?”

Dawn smiled brightly.

“So sorry, but losers don’t get presents they haven’t deserved...”

“Haven’t deserved?!” Buffy burst out, but Dawn simply continued:

“... I think I’ll sit on it for a year.”

“Oh, come on!” Buffy whined, but Dawn just threw her hand of cards at her and that was that.

¤¤¤

“Honey?”

“Hmm?” Spike replied as Buffy emerged from the bathroom.

“Did you pack my moisturizer?”

“Why would I pack your moisturizer?”

“Because I might’ve asked you to...?” she tried and he gave her a look before smiling crookedly, putting the paper he’d been reading down and observing her where she was standing. “What?” she finally asked.

“Just... trying to believe that I’ll get to look at you tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, too.”

She smiled at him, bringing her hair over one shoulder as she walked up to where he was sitting on the bed and sinking down beside him, having him enfold her in his arms.

“I’m not so sure it’ll work if I can’t trust you to pack such a tiny thing as my moisturizer, though,” she warned with faked seriousness and he smirked.

“And I’m not sure it’ll work if you actually expect me to pack your tiny things for you,” he retorted and she giggled, moving her head to meet his gaze.

“Deal,” she said.

“What is?” he wondered.

“You know... the... what you said.”

He cocked his scarred eyebrow and she rolled her eyes.

“The...”

“The me-not-packing-for-you-you-not-expecting-me-to?” he offered and she nodded. “But that isn’t a deal. That’s just me saying ‘Don’t expect me to pack for you’ and you saying ‘Okay, I won’t’.”

“You are the most picky vampire in the entire world!” she exclaimed.

“What?” he asked as she sat up.

“Couldn’t you’ve just said ‘Deal’ back and been done with it?”

“What?” he repeated and she stood up on the bed, leaning over him.

“If you don’t fess up and try to be a little bit more HUMAN – you know, make mistakes as the rest of us MORTALS – I guess I’ll have to go find someone who WILL, ‘cause I can’t live with someone flawless who always has to point everything out whenever it’s not as perfect as him, just so you KNOW, mister...”

He grabbed her legs and tripped her to fall before fitting himself between her legs and kissing her deeply. She returned it, wrapping her arms around his neck. When he pulled back they were both smiling.

“I didn’t buy it for a second. And I who thought you were a pretty good actress,” he shook his head in disappointment.

“Careful what you say, darling,” she murmured and he met her gaze before joining their lips again, this time tenderly.

They made love until it was too late to tell what time it was and fell into such a deep sleep they might not have woken up again.

Only...

¤¤¤

“How precious you look,” Drusilla said softly in his ear.

He stared down at his and Buffy’s bodies entwined before him on the bed. He knew that he was dreaming, but the knowledge floated somewhere just out of his reach and he couldn’t get a good grasp on it. It was like a dream within the dream.

“What are you doing here?” he asked his sire and she smiled at him as she broke his line of sight, coming to stand in front of him.

Her dark hair flowed down to her waist, she was wearing a white dress of light material, insanity rested in her gaze as she looked him over. Then there was a glimmer of utter lucidity and for a second she reminded him of Clara. He swallowed and mustered a glare.

“Get out,” he grumbled.

She laughed one of her deranged laughs and then tsk-ed him, clicking her tongue.

“I am come for you,” she whispered. “My William... My darling Spike.”

“Get away,” he said, taking a step back as her hands had moved towards his face.

She pouted, a high-pitched whine in her throat before she moved toward the window of the room. She stopped before it, her hands clasped behind her back, and then she turned to him again.

“I know you never loved me,” she mumbled. “But you treated me like a princess...” She trailed off, suddenly snarling and showing her teeth. “Fool,” she hissed. “The stars have sung me a lullaby,” she added, her countenance calm again as her fingers touched the glass of the window. “Its words were jumbled, but the music was clear and I knew it by heart... It was a love story. I listened to it many times before the night died and the music disappeared into the dew. Only the fairies can hear it now. Imagine... being that small.”

“Dru,” he murmured, losing his patience and she rested her eyes in his.

“There is no end to it, my beloved. It will always come back. She knows it. Deep down. It scares her, she who you think is invincible... she who you think cannot be destroyed. If you do not take care, she will be gone forever. You know it. You need each other, I understand. I understand that now. But... I need you too. Spike... I never ask for anything, but now I am asking you... Please.”

He stared at her and then she was gone and he woke up with a slight start, feeling Buffy still in his arms. He fastened his gaze on the darkness of the room and couldn’t go back to sleep regardless of how he tried.

He didn’t tell Buffy about the dream the next morning. He didn’t see any real significance in it, no matter how it had unsettled him.

¤¤¤

Dawn didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want it to be another day. Because that meant that Xander was leaving. She had fought her emotions as bravely as she could. The twitches near her heart whenever she acknowledged the fact of his departure, the sadness behind every thought that graced the topic of him.

She threw off her covers with a low mutter and got out of bed.

Had he looked at her twice last night? No, he’d barely glanced at her ONCE.

She brushed her hair absentmindedly, keeping her pajamas on as she headed down into the kitchen. Giles was making tea and she greeted him with a smile before she grabbed one of his prepared pieces of toast, slipping out of the room before he could protest. She rounded the corner, about to go into the living room when she ran right into Xander, who placed his hands on her arms to steady her as they both drew in a breath. Then they shared a laugh.

“Sorry,” he apologized and she shook her head.

“Morning,” she replied and his smile broadened as he let her go and stepped back.

“Morning,” he said.

“You all packed?”

He looked at her in a sort of strange way that sent an unexpected thrill into the pit of her stomach, and then he replied:

“Yes.”

She gave him another smile, hoping it covered up everything else, and then she walked around him and into the living room.

Xander hesitated, about to follow her when he drove himself forward and further into the hall instead. Willow just put her suitcase down on the floor and he looked from it to her and then they both smiled.

“Too bad you’re not going my way,” he said.

She nodded, then wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.

Buffy came down the stairs and Spike soon followed, Giles entering from the kitchen and Dawn hovering in the doorway of the living room.

They wouldn’t be gathered for quite some time, and they all felt it.

¤¤¤

That evening the house lay quiet.

Dawn had closed herself in her room, Giles sat reading in his study and the living room had been left deserted save for the Slayer and the Vamp. They were seated opposite each other on the same couch, their legs intertwined. There was a fire slowly burning through the logs in the fireplace. It crackled with soft homeliness. Spike was sketching, the strokes from the pen sometimes drifting through the words Buffy was reading and it always made her glance up to take in the concentrated expression on her lover’s face.

Many more nights like this to come, she promised herself. Just like this.

“Tell me a story,” she entreated, not entirely sure where the impulse came from.

He looked up at her, his eyes glittering in the repose of light and she let the book she had been reading place itself in her lap. He granted her a small smile and then looked back at the drawing he was creating.

“Once upon a time there was... a woman.”

“Was this a young woman?”

His smile widened at her participation and then he nodded.

“She was... very beautiful. Very strong. Very brave. You couldn’t tell just by looking at her, what she had been through.”

“Had she been through a lot?”

“To say the least... But she carried her burdens without a frown.”

“I think you give her too much credit.”

“No, she was always her strongest when it truly counted. She was a fighter.”

“A fighter?”

“A real one, too. She’d bloody kick the air outta the lungs of the toughest warrior.”

“And she met a lot of those?”

“She was in love with one of those.”

“In love? So she had a heart too?”

“Of course! What sort of heroine would she be if she didn’t have a heart?” Spike asked and Buffy smiled slightly. “And she had the warmest, most loving heart. Whenever she dared show it. There was a time when she didn’t, and she was as hard as rock.”

“Hmh. Must’ve taken a lot to break through to her.”

“It did.”

“Was it him – the one she came to love – who did it?”

“In some ways, yes. In others... no.”

“Well, how did he do it?”

“He refused to let her scare him off. He stayed by her.”

“Sounds like he was the strong one.”

“No,” Spike smiled, meeting her gaze again. “No, he just couldn’t see himself anywhere but at her side. Or in her shadow. Or on her heel, however you wanna look at it.”

“He never left?”

“He did,” Spike nodded. “He had to... thrice.”

“But he returned?”

“He returned.”

“And now?”

“Now he is with her.”

“With her?”

“In every sense...”

Again she smiled a little.

“So, is this a happy story then?”

“Depends on what you mean by ‘happy’.”

“Well, does it have a happy ending?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

She eyed him, then smiled once more.

“I’m sure it does,” she said.

“How come?”

“Otherwise you wouldn’t have started telling it.”

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

¤

Here It Endeth

¤

An orchard that once had been heaved in snow was now thawed out, its flowers blooming in triumph, their blue seemingly enhanced by their joy as though they were blushing. Through this peaceful place walked Theodore. He touched the roses with dreamy melancholy and soon reached an old tree, standing in the middle of a small and circular clearing, its dead branches twisted awkwardly toward the ceiling of the cave.

The vampire sat down on one of the benches standing at even intervals around the tree, and closed his eyes.

“Maeve,” he sighed, “what am I doing? And what should I do?”

He opened his eyes when there were steps down the path and as he turned his head Matthew came into view.

“Sire,” he said, bowing his head and Theodore grumbled something before getting to his feet.

“How many times will I have to ask you not to...?”

“It is done,” Matthew interrupted. “The workers wish to show it to you and hear if you’re pleased or no.”

Theodore rolled his eyes at the other’s formality, then nodded and they walked back the way he had come.

“Any other news?” he asked and Matthew shook his head. “Do you believe it is true?” Theodore wondered, walking through the great hall, which had been scrubbed clean of the bloodstains left on the walls by the slayers.

The crests had been taken down, but not destroyed. They were, after all, part of the vampiric heritage. Theodore had put them up in the chambers Clara had occupied, which had been repainted. Her furniture had all been burned. He had cleared out every other trace of her from the castle. Three weeks had passed since her demise, and though there was still a lot to be done, it seemed the Holy City was easing itself into its regular pattern.

“I do,” Matthew answered the other’s question as they continued through the entrance hall and straight toward the high doors taking them into the courtyard. “Mathias always was a born leader. If the New Resistance would choose anyone to follow, it would be he.”

Theodore sighed.

“Do we have any idea how many they are?”

“Not yet,” Matthew replied. “Sam and Thomas are both working on it... but it is no easy task. We don’t know who were killed in battle and who have joined against us.”

“I know, I know,” Theodore muttered, then got a hold on himself and shed the grimness with a smile to his friend. “Thank you, Matthew.”

Matthew gave another small bow and then they stopped and turned around to look up at the high castle wall. A new piece of rock had been fitted into it and it had taken over seven days for the hardworking vampires to make it look the way it now did – which was nothing less than perfect. It seemed to have been there ever since the castle was first built, and Theodore smiled to himself.

It was the only bit which had been recovered from the destroyed gateway, and he had seen to it that it was incorporated into the castle simply because he wanted the reminder for anyone who ever doubted that what had happened had been long overdue. Clara would always be part of their existence. The princess had been more than a ruler, she had been a creator. She was their truest ancestor, and there was no way any of them could overlook this. But she had also been a tyrant, a one-sided coin, and she had never looked to anyone but herself.

They had to remember the true way of life – and why good always conquered over evil.

Theodore looked up at the wall and knew that in the words now written there lay one of the secrets to Clara’s own madness, as well as the strength of the entire vampiric race.

And so there were lessons to be learned from it. Lessons it would take a few more millennia to grind into the minds of his subjects, as well as the thoughts of himself.

He remembered the Slayer and bowed his head in sudden reverence. Her victory had taught him more than anything else. He wondered if he would ever walk the same road as her again, and if he did – if she would notice him. Perhaps they lived in two separate worlds.

He closed his eyes.

Already he knew the poem on the wall before him by heart. He would carry it with him always, and recite it to those who had not heard it.

Its sprawling letters were colored so dark purple they were almost black and against the lighter color of the rock it made a stark contrast. A legacy; and it read...

I was born out of shadow and cold

Out of valley mist and mountain snow

Out of eagle’s eye and blackest crow

Out of howling wolf and midnight glow

Out of silent night and sparkling show

Out of highest peak and steepest low

Out of ocean tide and dwindling flow

Out of what you feel and think you know

I am the reaper

Keeping what you sow

I am forever

And you may never let me go