Title: Dichotomies (Chapter Thirty-three of The One)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday at yahoogroups.com . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!).

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

Summary: Anya suffers the repercussions of refusing to grant the Vengeance wish. Spike is hot on the trail of the demon-controlled Buffy, but something stops him along the way. The fate of the other men trying to save the children is revealed. Cyrus petitions the Sky Queen for her help. And Buffy finds her way to the kids. What will happen now?</SP! AN

Dichotomies

~~~~~

“I cannot grant your wish.”

Anya closed her eyes as she said it, waiting. Searching. Trying to figure out what the hell else to do. She was between Joyce and the children. Probably stronger that the Pawn but there was no way to know.

But she’d just betrayed her duty. Just betrayed D’Hoffryn. Who had saved her life. More than once.

Some little part inside of her prayed for mercy.

The rest prayed that Rupert would be okay with Randy all alone.

It was silent way too long, and then she felt it like a cold wind brushing against the back of her neck. The feeling of a portal opening and the outside coming in. Of her fate catching up to her.

Slowly, Anya opened her eyes.

D’Hoffryn looked down on her still with such kindness. And such utter disappointment. “Anyanka, this … woman… has a valid Vengeance claim.”

Anya shook like a child being scolded. “I… D’Hoffryn, I can’t.”

The elder demon shook his head. “You know the price, Anyanka.”

Her eyes pleaded with him. “D’Hoffryn, it’s not *her* making the claim. She’s being controlled. They want the babies, D’Hoffryn. I know that Vengeance is the only thing that we concern ourselves with, but those kids… they didn’t do anything.”

“It is not ours to judge, Anyanka,” D’Hoffryn answered, softening at his teary eyed charge. “We do not get to choose the wishes we grant and those we do not. If the voice came from the body, if it is her voice, her claim, we cannot deny it.”

Tears broke in Anya’s eyes. She shook her head. “D’Hoffryn, no. They’re kids.”

“The girl is The Peacemaker, Anyanka, she is no child,” he answered, trying to make it right. Even now, in the face of utter duty, he had a soft spot for Anya. He always would.

“She is here,” Anya answered quietly. “She’s five and she’s Spike and Buffy’s and she didn’t do anything wrong.”

D’Hoffryn stared at his student a moment, watching her melt. Anyanka had been a good Vengeance demon. Before the soul, she had been vicious and efficient and creative. A joy to watch. Since, she had had a softer touch, but she could still do more harm with eternal paper cuts and penis downsizing than any other demon he had under his employ.

But the woman in the white dress had made a request for Vengeance. They were bound.

He took a deep breath, watching Anya’s shoulders tense and wishing for just one moment that he could be to her what the Englishman was to the Slayer. That he could melt and bend to her whims and be a part of her life. But their business was Vengeance. Their family was revenge.

“I’m sorry, Anyanka. She has made a claim. If you do not grant the wish, I will have to and I will have to… punish you. You know that there are prices,” he counseled, his heart not in it, but his mind set.

Anya nodded, silvery tears streaming down her cheeks. “I understand.”

“And you still wish to deny this woman’s claim of Vengeance?”

Anya paused, glancing over her shoulder to the bedroom. She could see Will’s little blonde head peeking around the corner, eyes full of fear and regret. No one that little should feel that much. “I do,” Anya answered, turning back towards her mentor and gesturing behind her back for Will to go back into the room.

She closed her eyes. Waited.

“So be it,” D’Hoffryn said. “I will exact your punishment after the wish. Until that time, you will be prevented from interfering.”

Her eyes blinked open, startled. She wasn’t going to die just yet. Anya’s body tensed to dart for the kids, but before she could move, D’Hoffryn snapped his fingers and she was frozen in place. Silent. Fear splashed across her features, caught helplessly between the Pawn and the kids.

The elder demon looked at her one last time and then turned his attention to the woman in the white dress. “Can you please repeat your wish to me?”

~~~~~

The motorcycle slid around the curves in the road like liquid mercury, its rider leaning fluidly through every turn. He knew he had to be going over a hundred miles an hour. Far too fast for the road. But this was far too important to play captain safe driver.

How the hell had he driven with two car seats in the back of an SUV going thirty two in a thirty?

He loved them. Simple.

The smell of burned rubber and the acrid aroma of something more primal made him slow a bit as he rounded a particularly nasty turn in the road. Spike’s eyes scanned the tracks as he rode, watching the black marks go from straight to right to disappearing over the edge. Fresh tracks.

Something clicked in his head. The Witches two had sent the boys on the trail.

As soon as the thought occurred to him, he slowed more and glanced down the cliff. Perched precariously against the trunk of the only large tree growing miraculously from the rocks, was a van. An ugly, old van that Spike had seen just before they left on patrol. Parked in front of their house.

The part of him that was still Spike and that remembered the selfish bits of the demon that had inhabited him for so long tried to speed off, ignoring the tangle of metal and wood and the permeating smell of blood.

The part of him that was the One, that was the lover and best friend to his ideal woman and the father of her two kids, and the light burning inside of him that was Buffy, made him pull the bike to a halt.

He didn’t have time for a full blown rescue. Had to get to Buffy. Had to get to the tots. But he could at least see what he could do. Grab the phone. Call for help. See if there was anything left to help.

Spike leaned the bike against an outcropping of rock and began to pick his way quickly down the hill. Lucky for him, being both Slayer and Vampire at the moment, he had the ability to navigate like a mountain goat with stellar night vision. It took less than a minute to get forty feet down to the remains of the overturned van.

He crouched by the passenger side window, looking in and poking his arm through the broken glass. “Anyone in there? You still with us, Mates?”

“Spike?” A dazed voice answered. Something very basic in Spike suddenly relaxed.

“That you, wolf?”

A groan followed. “Yeah,” the voice finally answered.

“You all right?”

“Um,” Oz began, trying to move. “Think I’m in one piece. Kind of… ow.”

Spike smiled despite himself, until the thought of that annoying git began to gnaw away at his conscious. “Harris okay?”

The Vampire heard Oz move around a moment, and then wiggle out the broken side window. Covered in blood, but seemingly in tact, the Wolf moved next to Spike and then lay down, inching his way back into the vehicle. Spike scooted back to let Oz work.

“He has a pulse,” Oz began, pulling back out. “But he’s covered in blood.” The Werewolf’s usually laid back voice was tinged with panic. Fear.

Spike nodded. “You have the phone?”

Oz stuck his head back in the window, reaching around until he felt the phone against the roof of the van, which was now the part closest to the ground. He opened the flip and it thankfully glowed. “Works.”

“Can you call for help?” Spike asked, looking nervously back up to the road. “I…”

“She stopped here.” Oz nodded solemnly, watching Spike’s face. “About ten minutes back. Sniffed around and took off.”

Something welled in Spike. Terror? Anger? All of the above? “I need to get to her, mate.”

Oz nodded again. “Go, man. I’ll get an ambulance.”

The Vampire nodded, sticking his head in the window. He could see Harris clearly, still belted in his seat, but out cold, his head covered in glass and blood. Still, his breaths came in slow, even draws. Might make it through another year after all. “You stay alive, you stupid git,” Spike hissed, slapping Xander gently on the shoulder. “Buffy’d kill me if I let you die.”

Oz pulled Spike from the window, watching the fear and sorrow play across the Vampire’s features. He liked Xander. More than he would admit. They were friends. Oz knew that he would never just leave them like this, even before he got all Slayered up. But now was not the time to wax sentimental about your buddies. “You need to get her, man,” Oz encouraged. “She’s… man, she’s gone in there. Kids aren’t safe.”

Spike shook his head to clear the haze and nodded quickly. “Get the whelp an ambulance right quick and make sure you’re in working order.”

Oz smiled. “We’re cool. Go get Buffy back.”

Before the Werewolf could even register movement, Spike was halfway back up the hill to the motorcycle.

~~~~~

“That is *very* serious,” The Queen agreed, watching Cyrus pace in front of the roses in her garden. It was rare that her emissary ever showed this much fear or impatience. He’d always been the epitome of calm.

“Quite,” he agreed, nodding quickly. “In order to save Emma, we must deactivate the Pawn and regain the balance of the One. If we do not, then Draconius will have wrested control of the Peacemaker and…”

“Calm,” the Sky Queen commanded, her voice firm, but her features soft and smiling. “Cyrus, you do not have to be so unnerved when requesting our aide.”

Cyrus stopped mid stride and looked at his Queen. She had always been pleasant and fair to him, but never had she treated him with so much… respect? Equality? Usually, the whims of the Court were duty. Formality a necessity. Politics a must. Involuntarily, he quirked an eyebrow at his Queen, causing her beautiful laughter to spread through the air like wind.

“My Queen?”

“Cyrus,” she sighed, regaining control of her laughter. She took his arm and led him to a white granite bench, polished to a gleaming, perfect white, and lowered herself to the stone. He sat next to her, letting her rest her hand upon his knee. “You have been a gallant warrior and a faithful emissary. You know that?”

Cyrus nodded, not sure if he felt that strongly about his service to the Queen of the Sky, but he had tried.

“You have,” she confirmed, her sweet voice so soothing against his frightened soul.

“Thank you,” he answered, bowing his head.

The Queen smiled her radiant smile. “It is because of your exceptional service that I have entrusted you with our most valued asset. The Peacemaker is our future and our past and every moment in between. She is our child and our mother. Without her, the One cannot withstand the forces of darkness eternally.”

Again, Cyrus nodded. “I understand her importance to the mission.”

The Queen shook her head, correcting her servant. “It is not her importance to the mission that you need to protect. She *is* the mission. She is the omega, Cyrus and she will right the World all on her own. “

The Watcher looked at the Queen, confusion passing over his handsome, understated features. “I am not sure I...”

“You have been charged to teach her. To guide her in her growth as a human. Something that we could never do as we have never been mortal. The One has been charged to protect her. To love her. To grant her the respite of support and personal peace and familial love. Her mission will take care of itself. You must guide her and they must protect her and you all must love her as she does not understand fully what and who she is. She is older than time and five human years. There is no great! er dichot

Cyrus chuckled. “You’ve never seen her father make breakfast while wearing a leather coat, carrying a child on his back and polishing a sword simultaneously.”

Again, the Queen laughed. “We do have a sense of humour, you know.”

A smile broke on the Watcher’s face. “But you did so well for her, if I may comment.” The Queen nodded. Cyrus continued. “The concept of Vampire and Slayer being reunited… there was no one who believed that the Union of the One was real, much less magical, much less so incredibly… natural. They’re so… normal, in human terms.”

“Dichotomies,” the Queen replied, smiling again. “It is a feat to face one’s darkness and one’s light and still be able to reconcile them in your heart. Even more of an accomplishment to reconcile your heart with another. The Vampire’s love for his Slayer, his heart, her soul. That is the balance.”

Cyrus nodded. “Will you help them? Help us?”

The Queen looked up towards the sky. It had never occurred to Cyrus that even the Sky dimension had a sky. Was that normal? Her perfect blue eyes fluttered down to his, enrapturing them. Making him calm and sure. “It is the least I can do for those I entrust with my most precious of children.”

~~~~~

Buffy could see the trail fade down a little incline into the woods. The smell of the children, her flesh and blood, was stronger than ever. A wicked smile crossed Buffy’s face as the demon finally found its treasure chest in a small, pretty cottage in the tree line just above the sand of the coast.

She slowed her run to a walk and savoured the smells of the ocean and the trees and the cool wind against her skin. The wind that brought the scent of those little brats that the real Buffy cherished so much. Stupid little humans. Angelus had it right. The babies made for a tasty treat.

Even better, the demon knew that Buffy would never come back from this. She was just below the surface now. Pushing. Trying to figure out how to fight the bloodlust and drive the demon into hiding like her traitorous lover had done for so many long years. He’d done it from the start. It wouldn’t take her much longer either. She’d either figure it out on her own or that sentimental sap of a mate would draw her out until the demon had to recede or return to Spike.

Bugger that.

If the demon could kill Buffy’s children with her hands and her mouth, she would never come back. And the Vampire would never look at her again with those smitten, pansy, hopeless eyes. He’d see her for the demon. His demon. And it would kill them both.

The smile on Buffy’s face widened as she crept around the side of the house, hearing low voices inside the walls of the cottage. Shadows danced in the light spilling from the front door of the house, so she worked her way silently to the rear, listening to the voices. Smelling the scents. Reveling in the torment. Pushing down the girl inside that was struggling desperately to take her body back and save what was hers.

Nu unh unh, the demon thought. Bad little Slayer. A surge of power pushed her back.

The back door swung open in the breeze, waving at her. Welcoming her.

A purr of an engine far in the distance made her ponder her time frame a moment. What the hell? An audience might be fun.

Slowly, silently, Buffy crept into the house.

To be contd.

Title: Heart-Shaped Lock (Chapter Thirty-four of The One)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday at yahoogroups.com. Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!).

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

Summary: Spike arrives at the beach-side cottage just in time to see Buffy enter the house. Buffy finds the children and has to make a decision. D'Hoffryn grants the pawn's wish, but she is stopped by an unlikely hero. Spike gets to Buffy just in time to save his daughter and his love.
Heart-Shaped Lock
Spike pulled the motorcycle to the halt at the head of the driveway, cutting off the engine and coasting down the small inclined driveway to the cottage. His heart was pounding in his chest as he watched the shadows moving inside the brightly lit cabin and the sounds of voices lift into the chill night air.

As he rested the bike against a tree in the shadows near the house, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. A slight form, almost just a shadow of a person, creeping along the rear of the house and up through the open back door. The light from the inside of the house poured out and as the form reached the top step, the light filtered over, lighting golden hair and predatory grace in an almost ethereal glow.

Buffy.

Spike jogged down the last bit of the drive, not sure of what he had planned. Stop her. Save her. Make it right. Get my girl back. Get my tots. No real rhyme or reason but it was something. He'd always been pretty good at sorting out the battle while in the middle of fighting it.

He got to the back door in time to watch Buffy disappear around the corner of a small corridor to his right. There were voices coming from the front of the house. Where was Anya? Pony? The kids?

Best way to find out. Follow Buffy.
Buffy slid silently down the short corridor in the back of the house and turned the corner, following the scent of the children and the sounds of the voices. As she reached the bedroom area, she could see three forms up ahead of her in the front of the house, engrossed in some very serious conversation.

In front of her, a small blonde head peeked around the corner. One of the forms at the head of the hallway waved the little creature back into the room on her right, but instead, he had ducked across the hall into what seemed to be a closet.

Must be her son, the demon thought. Looks just like that traitorous Vampire.

Well, he wasn't the prize anyway. Pick him up on the way out. First things first. That tasty treat of a little girl with more power than anything else on the planet. The demon had long thought that there was nothing more potent than Slayer blood. It had a feeling it was about to find out differently.

Inside, Buffy, the real one, caught a glimpse of Will out of the corner of her eye and her soul screamed in agony, trying to push the demon away. It wasn't enough. She couldn't make it stop.

Make it stop.

"I wish that Buffy, that no one, can stop me from taking Emma," Joyce repeated to D'Hoffryn. Anya winced and mumbled in her frozen state, her eyes so large and pained, staring, pleading at her boss.

D'Hoffryn looked at Anya for a second, sadness in his eyes. He knew how much this life and these people had come to mean to her. But still, their job was their job. "Wish granted."

The Pawn didn't celebrate or do the Happy Snoopy Dance or even utter a 'Yay!', but rather dropped her head and turned around, sighing deeply. Not her wish, Anya thought. Not what she wants. How can we get her back before it's too late?
Spike slid down the corridor, staying close to the wall and hidden in the shadows from the bright lights in the front of the house. He followed Buffy's path down the hallway until he could see the figures speaking at the front end of the hall.

Willow had warned him, but nothing could prepare him for her. For Joyce standing there, breathing. Talking. Gesturing. Her kind face backlit by the living room lamps. Part of him broke, wanting to run, to help her, to make her all right too. To give her back to Buffy. The one thing he couldn't ever give her. Her mum.

He shook his head, trying to break the hold of his thoughts. Need to sort out Buffy first. Then we'll figure out what to do about Joyce. Spike dropped to a crouch near the door to a bedroom when movement to his left caught his attention.

Spike swiveled his head towards the motion and caught sight of Will across the hall, huddled on the floor of the closet, his broken arm around his knees, pulling them closer to his chest. The sight broke Spike's heart. The boy was terrified, shaking in the dark and staring directly at his father. Wanting help. Comfort.

Before the Vampire could creep closer to the boy, William shook his head. Spike stopped, staring at the big blue eyes for a moment. Again, Will shook his head and then pointed across the hall to the bedroom. "Mummy's got Emma," he whispered, barely loud enough for even the Vampire to hear. Spike nodded as the little boy waggled his finger towards the room again. "Save de giwls."

Spike had to smile, even for a moment. Poor sot, in for a lifetime of romantic ideals and certain heartbreak. But it had turned out all right for his dear old dad. Spike nodded again. "Stay put, Will. All right? "

Will nodded and watched as his father crept back across to the bedroom door.
Emma sat on the edge of the bed, her wide eyes staring down in the relative darkness at the slight, shadowy form that stood against the wall. She knew it wasn't her mother. Looked like mum. Smelled like mum. Wasn't.

"Come on, honey. I've come to take you home," the voice said. It was mum's voice, but empty.

Emma shook her head, not moving towards the figure, but not running away. "You're not my mum."

Buffy stepped into the moonlight so that the girl could see her more clearly. "Of course, I am dear."

The little girl shook her head. "You're not. You're wrong. I'm staying here with Aunt Anya until daddy comes to get me."

The demon chuckled. The tot had that much faith in her intuition and in her Vampire father that she wasn't even scared. Have to change that. "All right then. We'll just take care of this right here."

Buffy walked towards the bed with amazing quickness, pulling the little girl to the floor on her knees and dropping down behind her. "I'm not afraid of you," Emma whispered, as the thing behind her pulled her hair to the side to expose an expanse of soft neck.

"You should be," the feral voice replied.

Emma sighed, slumping. "My mummy won't let you. She's inside you. I can feel her. She will beat you."

The demon chuckled again. "Not doing a very good job so far."

The child paused, thinking. A thought came to her as she heard the sound of footsteps rounding the corner into the bedroom. "She loves me. Love wins."

The demon was quiet, struggling with the woman surging inside. Fighting pushing. Had to do this fast. "Not this time," it hissed, tightening the hold on the child.
Joyce began to walk solemnly down the hall towards the bedrooms. It was the end of the mission. All she had to do was walk in there, take the little girl and she could go home. Home free.

Why wasn't she glad?

Something in her head told her that she should be sad. Unhappy. That the mission was wrong and bad and .. A fog was lifting in her head as she walked.

Right as she came even with the little corridor to the bedrooms, movement to her right caught her eyes. Slowly, painfully, she swiveled her head and a little boy appeared in front of her. Standing in the middle of the corridor, blocking the way, one hand on his hip, the other dangling in a giant yellow cast to his side.

Joyce stared at the boy a moment. Blinked.

William stared back. Blinked.

Neither of them moved.
The Queen passed a hand in the air in front of herself and the Watcher. A sparkling tableau lay before them. A woman kneeling behind a child. A man running through a doorway, his mouth opening to speak. A little boy standing bravely in the center of a hallway staring. A confused, lost soul staring back.

"I believe it is time," the Queen stated calmly in stark contrast to the dry mouth and terrified heartbeat of her companion.

"Oh God," Cyrus muttered, watching the events play out.

She turned to look at him, an amused smile on her face. "Oh Goddess might be more appropriate here," she chided, passing her hand through the air once more.

"That of the Heavens, I reclaim to the Heavens. That of the Earth will remain on the Earth. Allow our soul to return to us." The Queen muttered something at the end that Cyrus could not make out. And then the pictures disappeared.
"Buffy, no!" Spike screamed, running through the doorway and sliding across the floor to a halt on his knees. Emma was facing him, eyes calm but with a tinge of fear. Buffy was behind her, just out of his reach. The little girl was sandwiched between her parents. Her father's eyes were wide and terrified, but something else was in there as well. Resolution?

Emma reached out her hand and touched her father's forearm. He calmed almost instantly, catching her blue eyes in his own. They were in this together. Together they could win.

"Buffy?" Spike whispered, trying to find her inside of those yellow, flashing eyes. "Love?"

"She's not home," Buffy's voice hissed, her eyes glimmering in the moonlight. Her mouth moved to her daughter's neck, barely touching. Spike's heart began to race again.

Emma took her father's hands in hers, calming him again, and pulled them behind her, onto Buffy's hips. The creature winced as if touched by fire. Emma nodded. Spike found his footing. "Buffy," he sighed calmly, finding her eyes again and searching. Finally, he closed his own and let his mind reach for her.

The little girl clung to him as he clung to Buffy, his mind bashing into every barrier behind those wicked eyes. Crushing the anger and the bloodlust and rage, hearing her crying, screaming out from underneath, pushing with all of her might to reach him before it was too late.

Corridors swung open, banged shut, imagined demons cracking under the weight of their souls. He was racing through darkness, pushing through the demon, holding on to his girls as he Slayed his way through her mind trying to find his lost girl. Heart breaking at every scream for mercy in her tired soul.

A flash of light illuminated the space inside of them and he saw her, trapped. Buffy. His golden goddess. Gagged and tied and beaten and tossed in a glass box that she couldn't shatter. On the door was a padlock, thick and heavy and made of gold. The lock was in the shape of a heart.

Spike blinked, watching the terrified, raging girl inside of the box. His girl. Not the Slayer. Buffy. Struggling. Fighting. Screaming. Pounding the walls and seeing images of what her body was doing in three sixty Technicolor around her. He could feel his heart break just seeing her torture. Demon had done this to him once. Tried to lock him away. But love had set him free.

Love wins.

Buffy caught sight of him walking on illuminated foot stones towards her prison. She stopped, falling to her knees, tears streaming down her face. Her green eyes begged. Pleaded. God, don't hate me. Goddess. Anyone. Please love me. Please love me. Please.

"I love you always, Pet," his voice sounded through the cold, dark air.

She got the strength to look up at him, see that unending adoration in his eyes. That beautiful, endless blue holding his heart in hers in just their colour. Buffy pressed her hand to the glass wall over the padlock. He tilted his head, falling to his knees on the other side of the glass and staring at her. Holding her in his mind. "Always, Pet. Everyday. There has never been a moment I haven't loved you. Never will be. This world and every after, I am yours."

The gag disappeared from her mouth and her bindings fell to the floor behind her. He pressed his hand to the glass opposite hers, fingers mirroring fingers, eyes boring into eyes. Melting, mixing, in a kaleidoscope of green and blue. "Spike," she whispered, watching the love, the forgiveness pour out of him and into her through the glass. "I love you."

Glass shattered, raining to the floor in harmless dull raindrops.
Will broke the standoff. "Gramma?"

The woman shook her head, the fog dissipating in her mind. She fell to her knees on the carpet, putting a hand to the floor to steady herself.

The little boy padded quietly to her, now eye level with the woman. "Gramma?" He repeated. She rocked back, looking at the boy for a moment. A tingle in her wrist distracted her as she watched the amulet on her arm glow red, and then a brilliant, blinding white. She glowed, the light forming a halo around her. Protecting her. Protecting them.

"William?" Joyce asked, still confused.

The little boy smiled, wrapping his arms around her neck and kissing her cheek. Suddenly, memories poured back into her. Memories from her life here. Memories of the quiet, sweet man in the In Between. The man that was now again the boy in front of her. Memories of love and kindness and family. Her arms wrapped around the child, pulling her against him, tears streaming down her face.

D'Hoffryn appeared in front of the woman, a slight smile appearing on his face. "Shall I assume that you rescind your wish?"

Joyce nodded vehemently, the boy's head buried in her shoulder. D'Hoffryn smiled again, walking to Anya and snapping his fingers.

She stood, staring at her boss, nervous and shaking. "Guess I'd better be off then. Got other jobs."

Anya shot him a weary glance. "But I didn't grant."

"She rescinded the wish. Doesn't exist. Don't do it again." He slid a hand over Anya's hair, smiling slightly.

With that, the elder demon was gone.

Emma had just enough time to wiggle from between her parents before Buffy collapsed forward onto Spike, sobbing, clutching around his neck. Spike held her tight against him with one arm, stroking her hair and hanging on to Emma's hand with the other.

The little girl sat quietly by her parents side, rubbing her mother's back, imitating her father. Buffy cried into her lover's chest, shuddering and shaking and still fighting the demon determined to rise above.

"S'alright, Love. I got you," Spike whispered over and over. "Won't let it take you away from us, all right? No one's going to take you away."

Buffy looked up, eyes full of tears. She looked at Emma first, making sure she hadn't hurt her. Slowly, she lifted her hand and grazed her daughter's cheek with her fingers. Emma smiled and sidled closer to her mum. Then Buffy turned her eyes to Spike.

The same eyes. Always the same. Bursting with devotion and love and unconditional respect. She could drown in his eyes. She wanted to. He could take away the pain and replace everything with this sweet, soothing calmness. Rightness. Wholeness. Love.

"Did I.," she muttered.

Spike shook his head. "Tots are fine."

"You?" Buffy asked, steeling herself for the answer.

He smiled. "Nice to know you worry," he joked, causing her to grin just enough that he knew she was still in there. "Fine, Pet."

A soft knock rapped against the doorframe. Spike spun on his knees as if the apocalypse had arrived and he wasn't prepared. Buffy rocked back up on her knees, pulling Emma behind her.

What lay before them was nothing either of them could bear.

Joyce stood in the doorway; William balanced on her hip, looking at them with a soft, gentle smile on her face. Anya was to the right of them, a sad, sweetness in her expression. "Spell's been reversed," the demon said softly.

Spike raised an eyebrow. "So that's."

Anya nodded. "Buffy's mum."

Buffy stood, slowly, eyes wide and brimming with tears. Emma rose with her, hand still caught inside her mother's. "Mom?" Buffy asked.

Joyce nodded, unable to speak, clutching the little boy against her as he nuzzled her cheek. Spike stood behind his girls to face the first human woman who had shown him kindness since he'd been turned. Love. Respect.

Part of him felt like weeping as well. But the Summers women seemed to have cornered the market at the moment.

"Hey, baby," Joyce whispered, her voice choked with tears.

Buffy ran at her mother, Emma at her side, throwing her arms around the woman and bursting into sobs of joy and relief. Joyce looked over her daughter's shoulder and nodded at Spike. Spike smiled sadly and she motioned him to her. Gently, she pulled him into the embrace with her daughter until all of them were a jumble of arms and tears.

"Mommy," Buffy muttered again and again, clutching her mother and her daughter, feeling her lover's arms around them both. Feeling another set of adult arms in the mix. Buffy glanced around to see Anya snaked behind William as well. It made her smile.

"It's all right, baby," Joyce whispered, raining kisses on her daughter's forehead. "It'll be okay soon."

The words registered with Spike and reality crashed down. His turned his face towards Joyce, his chin resting on the top of Buffy's head. They exchanged a glance that said it all.

It would only be right again when the amulet was broken. When the amulet disintegrated, Joyce would be gone.

Spike swallowed. Joyce kissed his forehead and hugged her daughter tight, closing her eyes. Smelling her hair. Feeling her warm, small arms around her waist like when Buffy was a child. When her eyes opened again she disentangled herself from the brood and spoke.

"Buffy," Joyce whispered, brushing her daughter's golden hair back. "I can't stay."

Buffy looked confused for a moment, tears streaming in silent rivers down her face. Spike put his hand on her back to steady her. "You just got here." The voice was that of a little girl. It broke Spike's heart.

Joyce smiled softly. "I did," she said calmly. "But I don't belong here anymore."

Buffy shook her head, but knew the truth in her heart. "Mom, please."

"You've got family," Joyce said quietly. "Someone who loves you as much as I do. You've done well, Buffy."

"Mom," she gasped, her sobs choking off her words.

"I love you," she whispered, kissing the top of Will's head and handing him to his mother. Buffy took the little boy and watched Joyce lean down and plant a soft kiss on Emma's head. 'They're beautiful."

Buffy smiled sadly, pulling the two kids closer to her. "Mom, please don't."

Joyce leaned forward, pulling Buffy towards her and kissing her forehead. "I have to, baby. But I won't be far."

"Cyrus sorted it then?" Spike questioned his voice gravelly with emotion. "So you'll go. home?"

Joyce smiled at the Vampire and nodded. "I'll be back where I belong."

Slowly, she held her arm out between them, the amulet dangling from her wrist. "You know what to do," she said, smiling at her daughter and the Vampire that became her son.

Spike nodded. Buffy swallowed hard, trying to fight back the tears. Slowly, gently, Spike took Buffy's hand, wrapping both around the amulet on her mother's wrist. A look passed between the three of them. Love. Sadness. Peace. Back to love.

It always comes back to Love.

Joyce nodded. "I love you all."

Spike leaned down to kiss her hand. "Wish you were here to see it."

"I can see it from the bleachers," Joyce chided, smiling.

"I love you, mom," Buffy whimpered, her hand shaking inside Spike's.

Joyce looked at her with all the love and hope and confidence she could muster and nodded.

Spike closed his hand over Buffy's. Buffy closed her hand over the amulet.

It exploded into a burst of white light that covered them all.

To be contd.-

Title: Flash (Chapter Thirty-five of The One)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG -13

Pairing: Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.

Feedback: Yes, please

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Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (With, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)

Summary: Buffy and Spike's transformation is complete. The rest of the gang all wait in the hospital to discover Xander's fate after the van accident. Spike tries to convince Buffy that she will be forgiven her transgressions. Anya rushes to see if Emma can help Xander. And Dawn receives a visitor in an unlikely place.

~~~~~

Flash
As the light consumed them all, Anya reached through the glow, pulling Emma and Will to her. Buffy and Spike crumbled to the floor as Joyce became the light, glowing and translucent and then simply, gone.

The lovers fell towards one another, catching each other's falls until they landed on their knees, hands clasped, heads thrown back, mouths agape and filling with white light. Will began to run towards them, but Emma pulled him back, smiling sweetly at her little brother. This was something bigger than them all.

Spike raised his head, still bathed in the white glow and looked at her. Buffy brought her eyes to meet him. They locked, their souls swirling almost visibly around each other in the air. His hand rose to her face. She nuzzled her cheek into his palm. Spike drew her closer, nearer, until their lips touched.

The light exploded around them, a violent swirl of white and red and black and love and light and anger and lust. Everything that made them and balanced them and taught them. Every emotion they had, surrounded them in a spectrum of colored light as his lips caressed hers.

The light began to fade. Buffy blinked, shaky even on her knees. Spike's eyes glowed yellow, flickering at Buffy in the moonlight until he shook his head and they burst into blue. Unending, adoring blue.

She opened her mouth to speak but found she couldn't. The world was spinning. Then the world went black.

~~~~~

"She going to be okay?" Anya whispered, picking Will up and comforting the frightened boy. Spike was sitting on the floor, cradling Buffy's head in his lap. Stroking her hair. Holding her unconscious form against him.

"She'll be right as rain, Pet," Spike answered, feeling her inside herself again. "Just knackered. Been through a lot."

Anya nodded, avoiding the million remarks that she could think of to say. If Rupert had taught her one thing, it was that sarcasm wasn't always welcome. "Do you want me to stay?"

Spike leaned back against the bed frame, exhaling deeply. Emma had moved next to him, holding her mum's hand. Buffy'd want to see the kids when she awoke, but she might need some. time. to come to terms with what had happened. Another thought tore through him at precisely the same moment.

The van.

"Anya," Spike began, his voice picking up urgency. "On the way here, there was. an accident."

Anya quirked an eyebrow. "You seem ok."

Spike rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Not me, woman. The Wolf and Harris."

"Xander?" Anya asked, her face suddenly becoming pale. They may have not been right for one another for the long haul, but they'd both always care.

Spike nodded, softening. "Bad one, Pet. They were on their way here to help you defend the Mite."

Anya's face became impossibly whiter. "They were?"

Again, the Vampire nodded. "Trying to help the Peacemaker." Spike prodded.

A light bulb went off over Anya's head and she looked to Emma. Emma smiled softly, stretching her hand out to her surrogate aunt. "Can I take her.?"

Spike brushed a stray golden hair from his daughter's face and smiled. "Do you mind going to help your uncle Xander?"

Emma shook her head, leaning forward to kiss her father's forehead. "No, daddy. But you'll take care of mum?"

"Course," Spike answered, smiling at the little girl. "Always do, right?"

Emma smiled. "Always," she whispered, moving towards Anya. "Aunt Anya? We need to get Pony too. The red thing on Gramma's wrist made him sleep."

"Enchanted?" Spike asked.

Anya shrugged. "Must have. I wondered why he didn't move. He better hurry up and get disenchanted because there is no way in hell I can pick up that monster."

"I can do it, Aunt Anya," Emma said smiling and heading out the door.

The demon turned to follow. Spike's voice stopped her. "Thank you."

She turned, looking at the two of them wrapped around each other on the floor. A soft smile broke on her face. "You'd have done the same."

Spike nodded, watching her walk out the door.

~~~~~
Giles rushed through the heavy double doors of the ICU, a place with which he had grown uncomfortably familiar. Seems that they should have their own wing, he thought senselessly as the urgency coursed through him like white fire.

A flash of red at the far end of the waiting area caught his eye. He turned, finding three women surrounding a somewhat battered looking man in the corner. The Watcher stopped, eyeing them for a moment. Their worried faces. Their frantic speech. Their quiet strength. Many things had changed over the years, but they were not among them.

"Willow?" Giles asked, beginning towards the small group.

The woman's head shot up, eyes wide and frightened. She spotted the Watcher and nearly jumped out of her seat, stumbling towards him with arms outstretched and tears threatening to explode from those huge, childlike eyes. "Xander," she gasped as she tumbled into Giles' embrace.

"What is it, Willow? You said there'd been an accident?" Giles asked, stroking the girl's hair. Cradling her head against his chest.

He could feel her nod against his sweater, but she didn't speak. A voice answered him from the corner. "We were trying to get to Anya and the kids. There was this. it looked like a little girl. in the road. Xander thought. I thought. he swerved. We went off the cliff," Oz answered, wincing as he scratched at a bandage over his forehead. Other than a nasty gash and a dislocated shoulder, he had walked away from the wreckage in one piece.

Giles nodded solemnly. "An illusion, no doubt, created by Draconius and his witch to prevent you from aiding Anya." He ducked his head and brought his hand up to raise Willow's face. She looked at him the same way she had when they'd first met and she'd been an awkward teenager. This lost, scared, brave little face wanting guidance. "Can you tell me how he is, Willow?"

Willow swallowed hard, wiping her eyes absently with the back of her hand. "He. coma. lots of blood and broken things. Don't. I can't."

Again, Giles nodded, pulling her head back to his chest. "I'm glad you're all right, Oz," he comforted; his own heart heavy at Xander's condition. "Is there a prognosis?"

"Not good," Tara whispered, cradling Dawn against her chest. Dawn was still, as if she were asleep, except for the silent stream of tears.

"Has there been any news from Anya or Spike?"

Tara shook her head. "We had a chance to tell him.a.about the pawn." Dawn winced at the word. She wanted to be there. Wanted to see her mother once more. Even if it wasn't her. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. "He went after Buffy."

"Let's hope he managed to pull off one of his disorganized yet effective rescues," Giles commented, smiling slightly. He paused, his face blanking. An idea raced through his head. "Xander and Oz were trying to help protect Emma?"

Oz nodded. "Wanted to get there before the pawn. And. uber Buffy."

"So the Peacemaker.." The Watcher couldn't even finish the sentence before Willow's head shot up.

"Emma can save him!" She exclaimed. "Giles, we have to. We have to find her."

The Watcher laid a hand on Willow's shoulder. "Can you relax enough to meditate? Contact Anya telepathically? She's quite susceptible to."

Willow nodded until it looked like her head might pop right off her shoulder. "Un hunh. Just. I need quiet."

"There's an empty, small waiting room down the hall," Tara contributed, smiling quietly.

The redhead smiled and spun on a heel, darting out the door.

Dawn stirred next to Tara. "I. I need to go to the bathroom."

"Want me to come?" The soft spoken woman asked, brushing Dawn's hair behind her ear. Dawn shook her head like a child.

"Nah. Need some alone time."

"O.okay," Tara answered, helping the girl up and patting her soft hand. "It. it'll be okay, Dawnie."

"Yeah," she answered, turning towards the doors. "But which part?"

~~~~~

Buffy stirred, her cheek brushing the denim of Spike's jeans. She felt. different. Safe. Familiar. Like she'd been caught in a nightmare and now was finally awake.

"You all right then, Love?" A familiar, soothing voice purred from above her. Soft, strong hands stroked up and down her back.

She looked up to see beautiful blue eyes staring back at her. They made her smile. He was there. He was okay. Everything's okay now. "I think I'm me-ish."

Spike helped her to a sitting position, wrapping a blanket from the bed around her shoulders as she shivered. Gently, he pulled her flush against him, knowing that the bliss of waking from the bad dream would soon be replaced by the horrors of the memories she'd doubtless retain.

As if he heard her thoughts, which may have been the case, she stiffened, her head moving from its rest against his shoulder to bolt upright. Spike held her tighter against him, as if hoping to hold in the raging wave of guilt that was about to crash into her. "Buffy, we're okay," he whispered softly.

Her face was horrified, her eyes filling with tears. "Where. where are they?"

"Anya has them, Love," Spike answered in that same, soothing tone. "Didn't harm a hair on their heads."

Buffy relaxed, but only slightly. "Did. did they see me. like that?"

Spike quirked an eyebrow, turning her face to him. "Like what, Pet? "

"All. demon possessed," she whispered, under her breath.

He sighed, squeezing her shoulder. "You looked like you, Buffy. Just the eyes. Little like that First Slayer bint, but with better hair."

"This isn't a good time for the snarkiness," Buffy snapped, turning her face away again. "Did they see me or not?"

Again, Spike sighed deeply. "They did." His voice was small. Almost inaudible.

Her face dropped towards the floor. "Did I. Did I attack them?"

"No, Pet," Spike comforted. "Got to bout where you are right now. Were talking to Emma on the floor when I came in." It was the truth, he justified. She didn't need to have the fact that she'd exposed Emma's throat shoved back into her frightened mind now. He'd help her deal with it when she remembered.

"I didn't. I didn't bite her?" Buffy asked, the first of many tears dripping down her cheek and plopping onto the blanket.

"No, Love. Didn't take a bite of a one of us," he answered, letting his fingers press slow circles into her back to relax her. "Had a little tussle with your sis, but she came out all right."

"Dawn?" Buffy asked, swinging her head around toward him.

"Less there's another Summers girl to wrap me round their sodding finger," Spike answered, smiling softly. "Don't fret, Love. Talked to her. She knows it wasn't you. She'll be fine."

"Oh, God," Buffy murmured, her face dropping again. Spike raised it, forcing her to look into his eyes. To see the love he had for her. The love she needed to find again for herself.

"Buffy," he whispered, capturing her green gaze. "It wasn't you."

"It was," she answered, silvery streams pouring down her cheeks.

Spike shook his head. "Was the demon, Pet."

"Your demon," Buffy answered, her voice shaking in time with her shivering body. "You never."

"You never met me when it first took over," Spike interrupted. "Wasn't much different. Took a few days before I got a hold of things."

"Yeah, I bet you went right out to attack your family," Buffy retorted, taking her anger at herself out on him.

"Not straight away," Spike answered, stroking her check with his thumb. "Probably would've had Dru not taken me away. Was right uncontrollable for a bit."

Buffy stared at those adoring blue eyes. "You knew it would be like this. That's why you took the kids away."

He nodded slowly. "Did what I thought was best, Pet."

"You were right," she whispered, her eyes falling toward the floor again. "God, Spike. How am I ever going to face them after.?"

"Seems to me, Pet, that we've all been under a spell or two. Really no different. The whelp taking a turn as a hyena. Little wedding spell that made arch enemies into sappy love birds and the like." he comforted, smiling down at her.

Buffy chuckled. "Funny how that one turned out."

"I'm not a sap," Spike huffed, with forced indignance eliciting another chuckle from Buffy.

"You really think they'll forgive me?"

Spike pulled her closer. "Nothing to forgive, Pet. We're none the worse for wear." He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. She gave in, letting the soft caress soothe her. Make her whole again. As she melted into the safety of his arms, a thought hit her like a freight train.

"There's something you're not telling me," she gushed, sitting up to look at him again.

A confused look passed over the Vampire's face until he realized that she had no idea what had happened with the van. She'd been there. Seen it. Had to be stuck in her memory somewhere, but she couldn't place it. That and a niggling worry were creeping about in his own mind that she had to have sensed. "There is," he answered softly.

"What. Who did I hurt?" Buffy asked, her voice rising in panic.

"No, Pet," Spike corrected, turning her to face him again. "You didn't do it. On the way here. there was an accident."

"What kind of accident?" Her face was tight with worry, her shoulders stiff and straight.

"Car," Spike responded. "The whelp and Oz .."

"Are they okay?" Buffy gushed, her eyes widening with renewed terror.

Spike closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "The Wolf was about when I got there, but Harris was out. Was alive, but . Pet, he wasn't looking too good."

Buffy hopped to her feet before Spike could finish the sentence. "We have to go to them."

"Sure you're up to it, Love?" He asked, taking her hand and letting her haul him from the floor.

"I have to be," Buffy whispered, tossing the blanket onto the bed. "We need to be there for them."

Spike nodded his agreement and wordlessly led her from the house.

~~~~~

Dawn stood hunched over the sink, splashing water over her tight face. Crying made you so puffy and sore, she thought as the water soothed her salt stained skin. Why did they have to cry so much? Why was bad stuff always happening?

Maybe because a prophesied Vampire, a Vampire Slayer, the bringer of Peace and a mystical Key all called the same place home. That much power was enough to screw up any one life. Toss in a couple of Witches, an Immortal, a few demons, a Wolf and a few relative humans and it was no wonder that mystical baddies found them fun to play with.

She tossed her hair back, bringing herself to look at her reflection in the mirror. What she saw stopped her cold.

"Mom?"

The woman in the mirror smiled. Dawn swiveled her head, but no one was behind her. Before the image could fade, Dawn turned back to the glass. "Mom?" She repeated, the tears beginning anew.

"Hello, Dawn," Joyce answered, reaching out to touch her daughter's face.

"What... are you okay?"

"Fine," Joyce answered. "I'm back home now. "

"H.heaven?" The girl answered.

Her mother nodded. "Cyrus set it right."

Dawn was quiet a moment, not sure she really wanted to know the answer to the next question. "In. in time?"

Joyce smiled at her daughter. "In plenty of time. I even got to see Will and Emma and Buffy and Spike before."

"Before you had to go again," Dawn whispered, looking down.

The soft, familiar hand raised Dawn's face to her's. "And I wanted to see you."

Tears streamed down Dawn's cheeks as she stared at her mother's kind face. There were no words to describe how much she missed her mom. Missed her pancakes and her cocoa and her talks and even her nagging. Missed having her arms wrapped around her when she was scared. Her shoulder to cry on. Her laughter to come home too. "Mom," Dawn sighed, reaching out to touch the face in front of her. Letting her fingers graze the familiar contours of her mother's face. Etching it again and forever into memory.

"I love you, baby," Joyce whispered, taking Dawn's cheeks in her palms and kissing her daughter's forehead.

Dawn hitched, a sob wanting to burst free. "I love you too, Mommy."

Joyce smiled sadly. "I have to go now, but take care of your sister, okay?"

"Okay," Dawn answered, grabbing her mother's hand and holding on for dear life.

"It will be okay," Joyce whispered, pulling away. "Just remember how much I love you. How much Buffy and Spike and those kids love you."

"I know," the girl replied, watching her mother's face begin to fade.

"How much I love you," the disappearing voice said quietly.

"Thank you, Mom," Dawn answered as the last of her mother twinkled out of sight.

To be contd.

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