Title: In and Out (The Peacemaker Prophesy, pt 5)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG-13

Feedback: Yes, please

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.

Summary: Spike has to swallow his pride and admit to Buffy that it is best for Angel to watch out for Emma while Spike is away. How do Buffy and Spike react?

In and Out

Spike paced around the room like a lion. Don't like this, he thought. Bad feeling. Don't want to leave my girls. Don't want the sodding Nancy Boy here. Don't want to pretend I hate her. Don't want to sleep alone again.

"You OK, Spike?" Tara asked. They were all sitting around the coffee table while Buffy explained the ins and outs of Giles' plan. Emma was curled in Dawn's lap, tugging the teenager's fingers. Spike wondered if Emma had ever touched the ground, she was held so much. He smiled. It felt good to hold her. Spike walked to Dawn and scooped the baby up, resuming his pacing.

"Spike?" Buffy asked.

"What, Love?"

"You all right?"

"Not happy bout this," he said as the little girl's head sleepily plunked against his chest.

"I know," she answered, sadly smiling. "Not long, right?"

"Not long," he answered.

"We'll all stay around," Tara said. "I can sleep on the floor if you like."

"You can have my bed," Buffy responded. Spike looked at her oddly. "I'm going to stay in Emma's room. I'll sleep in the recliner. Dawn has her own room now and Angel can sleep down here. Or in the basement. We'll figure something out."

Spike just paced. "Time is it, Pet?"

"9:15," she answered, looking at her watch.

Spike didn't want to leave tonight. Knew it meant not coming back. Where the hell was the Poofter? Emma began to get restless and mewl against his chest. "Need to put the tot to sleep," he said, looking over at Buffy with a sad desperation in his eyes. She knew he didn't want to put her down. Didn't want to walk away.

"Head up. I'll be right there," Buffy said, nodding to him, knowing that they needed some time alone as well. Spike started up the steps carefully. Buffy watching him with a sweetness the others had forgotten she knew.

"Buffy, why don't you go ahead up with Emma," Xander said. "We'll catch

Angel when he gets here."

"Thanks," Buffy whispered, standing.

"You..you OK?" Willow stuttered.

"Not really," Buffy answered softly, heading toward the stairs.

*****

Buffy padded softly to the doorway of Emma's room. Spike was standing in the window facing away, still clinging to the little girl. It was sweet how he held her. How he spoke to her. She knew this was hard all around, but especially on him. He had not been away since Emma came into the world, and Buffy knew that he did not want to go anywhere. She thought about walking over to him, but felt that maybe he needed this time with Emma. Buffy turned quietly and headed back to their room to take a quick shower.

*****

A knock came at the door. Dawn got up from her seat on the couch and

walked quietly to the door, not sure if she wanted to open it or let things be. Her loyalties were to Spike. Spike didn't like Angel. She didn't like Angel. But Spike had invited him here. Guess I should open the door, she thought.

"Hi," Angel said from the doorway. Dawn and Angel were standing exactly

opposite each other. One in. One out. "Can I come in?" Angel asked,

feeling that he *just* might have been disinvited.

"Uh, yeah," Dawn said, shaking her head as if to clear it and stepping

aside. Angel stepped into the house quietly.

"Where's Buffy?" Angel asked, looking down at Dawn. He needed to talk to Buffy now. He needed to know what was going on.

"She.. she's upstairs," Dawn stuttered. The rest of the crowd was watching the awkward show wordlessly from their audience in the living room.

"Can I?" Angel asked, gesturing at the stairs. Xander's eyes grew wide as he looked at Dawn. Dawn smirked. Something she had learned from Spike.

"Sure," she answered, nodding up the steps and starting back toward the

couch.

*****

Angel quietly stalked the hall, peering in doorways, looking for her.

Buffy's door was closed, but the door next to it was open and the light

shone brightly into the hall. Angel walked to the doorway, preparing a

chipper and sweet reunion remark in his head when he was stopped in his

tracks. There was Spike, holding a pretty little blonde child, his face

buried in her tender neck.

*****

Spike stood against the crib, trying to control his emotions. God, I don't want to leave, he thought. He turned from the window and Emma struggled sleepily towards his neck, latching onto the hem of his shirt. She smelled so sweet. He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek to hers, smelling her sweet vanilla and baby scented skin. Any time without her would prove to be too long.

*****

Angel launched from the doorway, stopping just short of the blond Vampire. "Put her down," Angel hissed, as Spike was startled to attention. Slowly, Spike set the baby softly into the crib. Angel watched in confused horror at the tenderness with which his grandson handled the baby. Especially after what he just saw.

The minute the baby was safely down, Angel grabbed Spike's collar, throwing him hard against the wall. Spike's jaw shook, he hit the wood with such force. "Spike, I can't believe you'd...a baby?"

Spike reeled, the shock of being knocked into the wall and the confusing

slur of words spilling from his grandsire's lips. 'What?"

" I should kill you now," Angel hissed, pulling a stake from his pocket and pushing it to Spike's chest. Emma began to wail in the background, waking up and hearing the commotion.

Buffy came down the hall at a jog, bolting into Emma's room and surveying the scene. Look right, Emma screaming her head off in the crib. Look left. Oh.. "What the *hell* are you doing?" Buffy screeched, diving at Angel and pulling him off of Spike. Spike dropped to his feet, shrugging his shoulders as if finding his way back into his skin. The shock of it all was being quickly replaced by anger.

"He was... his head was in her neck. He was trying to bite the little girl, " Angel stammered.

"What?" Buffy asked. Her face was a mixture of shock and amusement.

"Spike wouldn't do that!" Buffy said to Angel, mostly in amusement. Spike smiled smugly at Angel.

"Buffy, I saw him. His head was in her neck. He was going to bite her."

"Angel, he wouldn't," Buffy repeated, releasing Angel but keeping a hand on each of them. Just in case. She glanced quickly over at the crib where Emma was still wailing. Spike began to move toward the baby but Angel shot a hand out. Buffy lifted his arm off of Spike and he shook again, trying to knock down the demon before the battle was on.

"Buffy," Angel said, in his most patronizing tone. "You don't know Spike like I do. You don't know what he's capable of..."

"Angel," Buffy sighed, letting them both go. "Spike won't hurt Emma," she said simply. "She's.." Emma let out an impassioned scream and startled Buffy into action. Buffy spun toward the crib, Spike following behind. "Spike, will you take this downstairs? I need to get her calmed down."

Spike looked at her for a moment, not wanting her to be upset with him.

He'd kept his mouth shut. Not to mention he wanted to be there for Emma.

"Spike, please. I know this is not your fault. But you need to get him out of here while I get her settled down."

"Right," Spike said, a little dejected.

"I'll be down in just a minute, OK?" Buffy said quietly, sliding her hand on top of his. Angel watched in confused horror. "Angel, why don't you go down to the kitchen with Spike. I'll be down in a minute." Angel nodded, turning toward the door. "It's alright, Spike," Buffy said, picking up the screaming baby. He touched the little girl's head and turned to go.

*****

"Alright, mind telling me what the hell is going on here?" Angel asked as Spike walked into the kitchen behind him.

"Keep your bloody voice down," Spike snapped," Never know who's listening." Spike was silent for a moment. "Niblet, not nice to eavesdrop," he called, knowing she was hiding behind the doorway to the kitchen.

"Sorry," she called timidly, knowing she was caught. Spike could hear her shoes drag along the dining room floor in retreat.

"Have I stepped into some Alternate Sunnydale? Since when are you in on the whole Scooby scene and hanging out in Buffy's house and... where did Buffy get a baby?" Angel babbled in a half whisper sounding both ticked off and completely lost in the same breath.

"Emma's hers," Spike answered, "and I have an... understanding.. with the rest of them."

"And Buffy? Have an understanding with her too?" Angel was obviously on the attack now.

"Of sorts," Spike answered, smiling a bit and turning toward the counter. "Don't really have time to go through all this right now. Buffy will have to fill you in on the details. Up to her. I called you because of the mite. She's important." Spike swung back around toward the older vampire, leaning his back against the countertop, trying to suss out how much Angel had put together.

"Important how?"

'Because she's my flesh and blood, Wanker,' Spike thought. "She's a Chosen One."

"Slayer?"

"No," Spike answered, drawing out the word, "The Peacemaker."

"The Peacemaker's a myth," Angel fired back, giving Spike the 'What are you? Stupid? smile'.

"Fraid not Poof. Peacemaker's Buffy's daughter. As.I.Said, no time for all the details. You'll have to get the long version from her. Important part, prophesy says that a vamp means to hurt the tot in her sixth month of existence, which starts in about a day. I mean to suss out who this big shot is and take care of him. Need you to watch out for my girls while I'm gone." Spike rambled, not really paying attention to any of the words that tumbled from his lips.

"*Your* girls?" Angel asked, smirking at Spike. Spike was quiet. Something clicked in Angel's head. Nah, had to be an obsessive little slip from the peroxide drama boy. Still, " Spike," Angel asked, "you going to tell me how Buffy came to have a baby?"

"Woulda thought you knew where babies came from after all these years,

Poof," Spike snarked back.

"Who's the father, Spike? Some guy come through, love her and leave her and leave her and you decide that's a perfect time to snake your way in and take advantage?"

Spike's blood began to boil. What was I thinking bringing him here? What was Giles thinking? What was Buffy thinking when she *let* me? Too late now. "No," Spike answered simply, controlling the demon again. It was getting harder by the moment.

"Then what?" Angel asked. "I just can't see Buffy letting you in her

house, anywhere *near* her child, if she didn't feel like she owed you

something. What? Rush in to save the day? Steal some Pampers for her?

Come on, Spike. She's better than you. What's your angle?"

Spike's rage boiled, but he stood firm, face to face with his grandsire,

resolved to not give Angel the satisfaction. "Seems to me," Spike began

coldly, "you did a fair bit of running out when it comes to Buffy."

"That's none of your business, Spike."

"It *is*," Spike hissed. "You hurt her. Got a chance to make it up.

You're going to make sure nothing happens to that baby. Not a sodding

*scratch* on her pretty little head." Spike's anger was starting to get the better of him, but he didn't move toward Angel and strangely enough, his face never changed.

"I'll help," Angel responded, sharply," for Buffy. But I want to know what you're stake in this is. What can the Peacemaker do for old Spike? What's in it for you?"

"She's.My.Daughter." Spike raged, tossing Angel against the wall and

holding him by his collar. The look on Angel's face was a mixture of

confusion, shock, disbelief, and, surprisingly, guilt.

"Yours?" Angel gasped, dangling from Spike's grip. Spike loosened, dropping Angel back to his feet.

"Mine," Spike growled. "I gave her the one thing you couldn't give her.

Well, make that the two things, being that I actually love her and stuck

around."

Angel reeled from the sting of Spike's words, but wrapping his mind around the concept was even more of a problem. "How?" Angel mumbled, still dazed by what he had just heard.

"No time for that," Spike answered, waving off the question. "In or out? It's a bloody simple question."

"In," Angel responded, wide eyed. Spike's shoulders dropped and he relaxed.

"Don't have to understand," Spike began, calmly, "but I love them. Buffy and Emma. Couldn't go off and leave them without any help. I don't want you here, but I know you'll watch out for Emma for Buffy's sake. Don't care much why you do it, just that you do."

"I will," Angel muttered.

"I need to go speak to Buffy," Spike said, turning toward the door. "Then we will leave for patrol. If she's not back here by one, I want you to go after her. Other than that, just stay here. If they aren't in the house now, they don't come in the house. Ever."

"Right," Angel whispered, nodding.

"And try not to hurt her again," Spike said, "Or I won't hesitate to turn you into the contents of an ashtray before you can re gel your hair." Spike walked from the kitchen, leaving Angel reeling against the kitchen wall.

*****

Spike walked into Emma's room. Buffy and Dawn were leaning over the crib, talking softly. They were watching Emma and each other at the same time. The floor creaked almost imperceptibly as Spike stepped into the room. Dawn looked up, touched Buffy's arm, and began to make her way out of the room. Spike caught Dawn's wrist as she passed.

"Look out for them," he whispered in the teenager's ear. She nodded,

feeling the tears start to fall.

"You're coming back, right?" Dawn asked, her voice shaking a bit.

"Of course, Niblet." Dawn wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to the Vampire. "When you get back, what say we start a little training," Spike said to the girl. Dawn pulled away and looked at him wide eyed. "If you're going to be around bads all the time, should know how to fight."

"But Buffy?"

"I'll square it with your sis. Between us for now, right?" Dawn nodded. "Now, off with ya," he said, brushing her hair back and patting her shoulder. She quietly slid into the hall.

Spike walked across the room to Buffy. She was dressed and ready, but her hands clung to the bars of the crib with white knuckles. Spike put one hand on the small of her back and pulled Emma's blanket up with the other. Buffy was silent.

"He knows, Pet. Not everything. But about Emma. I was going to let you tell him. It was up to you, but.."

"No," Buffy answered, "It's good you told him."

Spike cocked his head, looking at her. "You sure?"

"I don't owe him any explanations, Spike." Buffy turned back towards Spike, a little teary eyed, but resolute. He couldn't help but drink her in. So pretty, he thought.

"Why, Buffy? Is it just because.. because I stayed?" Spike asked. As much as he loved her, he could not help but feel... scared of losing her. Particularly with Angel here.

"No," She answered. "I'm glad you did stay. But I love you," she said

simply. "Just promise me you won't make me regret I said that."

"I'll be back, Love. Just a few days. Week or two at most."

"Promise me, Spike."

" I swear it," he whispered, taking her hands in his. He found the ring he had given to her and pushed it back and forth with his thumb. She never had switched it from her left hand. "I made a promise to a lady." He was silent for a moment. " I love you. Always."

"Every day?"

"Every day," he repeated, kissing her nose.

"You know that I love you too."

" I know," he said softly. But I still like it when you say it, he thought. "Now," Spike said, stiffening, "this just won't do. We're going to hafta put on quite a show. Hafta find your motivation. What are we going to be mad about today?" he grumped, pushing Buffy softly.

"Kinda forgot a lot of the reasons that I hated you," Buffy answered,

looking at the ceiling.

"Evil, soulless, thing springs to mind," Spike snarked.

"Oh, there's *that*," Buffy said sarcastically. "So, what did you do to get me angry this time?"

"Why's it always have to be me?" he complained.

"Evil, soulless, thing," she joked back.

"Right," Spike responded, nodding, his hand on his chin, pensively. "Well, hypothetically speaking, of course, what could I do that'd make you furious?"

"Leave the toilet seat up," Buffy chirped.

"Hafta do better than that, Pet. I think that the Vampire's might wonder about us if you kick me out and I want to destroy you over the toilet seat."

"Alright," Buffy said, the wheels turning in her mind. "Feed."

"Feed it is," he answered. " I attacked some poor helpless lass and you

caught me. That'll do."

"In front of Emma."

"Ouch," Spike said," but if it works to make you angry, then so be it. Just keep somewhere in your pretty head that it's not real."

"That'll do it and I will."

"Once I get in, I'll leave whatever information that I can find in the

basement of the Magic Box. Where the burba weed is."

"Anya will be mad that you are steeling burba weed again," Buffy joked.

"I'll pay her back. Check there every day, alright?"

"Right," she answered nodding, her blonde pony tail bobbing behind her.

"And don't come *near* me at night. If we run into each other, we'll have to fight and it'll have to look good."

"But I like fighting you," she said, smiling slyly.

"Ah, but no after fight," Spike whispered, pulling her close, almost purring the words into her ear.

"No fun," she whispered, her eyes closing.

"Exactly. Avoid it," Spike continued, nibbling at her ear.

"*Not* helping," Buffy huffed, pushing him softly.

"Sorry, Love," he replied, straightening, his eyes glazed over with desire. The smell of her, just being so close to her... "You ready?" he asked, taking a deep breath.

"No," Buffy answered, "but I'll go. Don't get all... deader.. on me."

"Right," Spike responded. "Mind my girl?"

"Yeah." Buffy sweetly smiled at him. The way he looked at their daughter was almost heartbreakingly beautiful.

"Have a minute?" Spike asked, gesturing toward the crib.

"Sure." Buffy stepped back, watching Spike lean over and hearing him whisper words she couldn't make out. But there was no mistaking the soft kiss he placed on Emma's forehead. Buffy couldn't help but smile at him when he walked back to her side. He took her hand and led her out the door.

To be contd.

Title: Bad Words (The Peacemaker Prophesy, pt 6)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG-13

Feedback: Yes, please

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.

Summary: Buffy and Spike are forced to separate, but now Angel's in the mix. How do they manage?

Author's Note: For the purposes of this story, Angel had a son, however the son was taken and has not been returned to him. Just a frame of reference!

Bad Words

"So why in bloody hell did you drag me along on your little single minded quest to destroy my race, Buffy?" Spike barbed, as they strutted angrily through the graveyard, an unnaturally large distance between them. Spike had picked up on the young, dark haired vamp in the shadows almost as soon as Buffy had stepped off the curb in front of their house. They had been at the unusually vicious arguing since.

"You might as well be of some use," Buffy huffed in her coldest voice. Just the sound of it brought back countless tortured memories for Spike.

"Not what you were saying last night, Pet."

"You're a pig, Spike. Why did I ever think anything different?" Buffy

strode several strides in front of her counterpart. He jogged a few steps and grabbed her shoulders, spinning her towards him.

"Not my fault that you thought I was anything *but* a Vampire, Buffy. What did you honestly think, Pet? I'd turn into a sodding Nancy Boy, Mr. Mom? If you spent half the time on your brat that you do on yourself and your little useless friends, you might qualify as adequate."

"And if you didn't *eat* people in front of her, " Buffy screamed, pushing him hard into a tombstone, "you might qualify as acceptable." The force of the body slam into cold granite shook him. The words; those were another story.

"What'd ya think, Love? Man's gotta eat. Not going to make it on pig's

blood and peanut butter forever. You haven't made a decent meal in...

forever."

"But I didn't eat anyone in front of my daughter," she sobbed, tears coming down. Buffy had talked herself into this. God, don't start crying, Spike thought. Just stay mad.

"You know she's half demon, Buffy. What're you gonna do if she ends up like me?"

"At least she has a soul!"

"Bugger off, bi**h," Spike hissed. Buffy involuntarily kicked him hard in the chest. It was better than the tears. Could never bear to see her cry.

"*Never*," Buffy said, angrily, "*never* come near my house or *my*

daughter, again. If you do, I'll dust you myself." She was leaning over him, rage in her eyes.

"You couldn't do it, Pet," Spike answered, smiling smugly.

"Try me," she quipped, a stake appearing from out of thin air into her tiny hand. Where the hell?, Spike thought, a tinge of panic spreading like an electric shock under his skin. Buffy jabbed the point into the flesh over his heart. "If I ever see you near her again, you *will* disappear. Forever." She was so close to him, her scent catching in his nose. Her teary eyes making his heart ache. He closed his eyes and swallowed.

"Good riddance," Spike forced himself to say with as much coldness as he

could muster. Buffy pulled the stake away and stomped off. "Hope you and the sodding hell spawn have a nice little life of torture."

"Anything's better than you," Buffy called back, never turning around.

*****

Tears streamed down Buffy's face as she dragged herself back through her

front door. Angel was standing next to the stairway, shrugging on his coat.

"Buffy, I was just coming to.... you alright?"

"I...I..." she stuttered, holding up her hand and fleeing up the stairs, two at a time.

****

Spike poured a tall drink. Blood and whiskey. Clem had stocked well. All there was left to do was wait. He inspected the tiny hole in his shirt where Buffy had pressed the stake and the spot of blood underneath. Nothing compared to the hole inside, he thought.

*****

Buffy pulled the tiny, sleeping child out of the crib so gently she thought her heart might break. This was wrong. They shouldn't have to be apart. They should never be apart. There'd been enough apart. Apart was never easy and finding their way back proved always harder. She eased into the recliner, trying to control the hitching breaths before she woke Emma.

Buffy knew it had all been an act, but the reminder of her past cruelty was torturous. Even worse that the foul words he spat at her. She knew she had enough faith in Spike, knew him well enough to understand that he didn't mean those things... that she wasn't a bad mother, that Emma wasn't hell spawn, that he didn't mean good riddance. The thing about cooking, maybe. But God, after all the things she had thrown at him over the years, first out of hatred, then out of her own fear that she had fallen in love with the one... man.. she shouldn't, what reason did he have to believe her? Or not to, in this case.

Buffy clutched the sleeping baby closer, rubbing her cheek against the

child's impossibly soft head. He knew, right? He had to know.

A knock drew Buffy from her thoughts. "Hey," Angel said softly, stepping through the doorway.

"Hi," Buffy whispered, trying to brush tears off of her face with one hand. " I know you have a lot of questions, but I'm..."

"I don't need to know," Angel interrupted. Buffy looked at him strangely. " I mean, you can tell me what you want, when you want to, but you don't have to."

Buffy was grateful. Just didn't have it in her tonight. Emma shifted,

turning her sleeping face toward Angel.

"You have a beautiful little girl," Angel said, touching Emma's silky blonde hair. "You know that I..."

"Cordelia had called when..." Buffy interrupted, seeing the pain in his dark features. Funny, when she looked at him now, she still felt something, but it was a very different something. Like looking at a picture of some wonderful family outing. You still care about the memory, but you don't have any need to go back. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah," Angel replied, softly. "Changes things. Changes everything."

"It does," Buffy agreed. "Makes everything more complicated, but more

simple at the same time."

"I know," Angel answered. He was lost in his own thoughts.

"Everyone asleep?" Buffy asked. Needed to change the subject.

"Dawn's out like a light. Tara is crashed in your room, but said she'd move if you changed your mind. I'm fine on the couch. Xander and Anya went home."

"Where's Will?"

"Not sure," Angel replied thoughtfully. "I didn't see her leave, though."

"She's probably... oh, " Buffy said, smiling a little. Forgiveness could feel really good.

"You need anything?" Angel asked, backing out of the room.

"Nothing. I'm set." Buffy replied, snuggling into her little girl. 'At least nothing you can give me, unless you can magically produce a certain peroxide someone and leave us alone', she thought.

"G'nite."

"Nite."

*****

The television flickered as he took another slug from his drink. Didn't

even know what was on. Couldn't go to sleep. Couldn't stay awake. Did she know I was only... pretending?, he thought. She's a great mum to the tot, better than I ever expected. Emma's straight outta heaven, not some horrid demon spawn. Buffy had to know *that*. And 'Good Riddance'? What in bloody hell was I thinking? Never had it so good on either side of life or the spaces in between.

The cooking part I might have meant, he mentally amended.

Spike flicked off the telly and made his way down to the bed. He stripped off his clothes and stretched against the sheets, rolling every way, trying to find a comfortable spot. No small warm body to wrap around. No vanilla face and apple hair. No skin that twitched every time he moved against her in the most delightful ways. No comfort. No rest.

*****

"Gwydion?" Simon called as he rushed into his master's sitting room.

Gwydion stood in front of an oak end table near the bay window. He gestured at the phone as he finished speaking, then clicked the receiver into the cradle.

"What is it, Simon?" Gwydion asked pleasantly.

"The Slayer she... she expelled the Traitor. Told him she'd kill him if he ever came back. She tried to *stake* him. He's angry, Gwydion, very angry."

"Good, Simon," the older Vampire responded.

"Should I go fetch him? Bring him to you? He may know how to get to the child..." Simon had the enthusiasm of a ten year old with his first two wheel bike.

"Let's sleep on it, shall we?" Gwydion said, patting the younger vamp's

shoulder. "You did well, Simon. I've chained you a little treat in the

basement. Be good and don't play with your food... much."

"Thank you, sir," Simon answered, bowing his head respectfully and rushing out of the room. Gwydion settled back into the deep velvet chair.

"I wouldn't trust him if I were you," a seductive voice rolled into the room like a summer storm. The dark beauty almost danced through the doorway. "He's covered in her. Always has been. He may think he'll give her up, but he'd burn first."

"My sweet girl," Gwydion said, taking her hand. " I do not trust him." He pulled the girl to his lap. She purred, resting her head on his shoulder. "But we did manage to separate them with Quentin's help. This will make the task at hand that much simpler."

"But he still loves her," the woman hissed, almost in mourning.

"Drusilla, my dear, we will find you a new play toy. One that is not so

broken."

"Do you promise?"

"I'll even let you put an end to Spike, if you'd like."

"Very much," she chirped, clapping her hands together.

"But *I* will make you a new one. Yours rarely turn out well," Gwydion,

said, paternally, as if referring to his child's score on an arithmetic

exam. "Now run along. I've got some calls to make."

"You're always working," she whined, pulling herself gracefully to her feet.

"Not for long, my sweet. Not for long."

To be contd.

Title: Conversations (The Peacemaker Prophesy, pt 7)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG-13

Feedback: Yes, please

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.

Summary: Buffy and Spike have gone their separate ways in order to enact

Giles's plan, but how do they cope? And how does Buffy react to being alone with her first love?

Conversations

Buffy bounded down the stairs to the basement of the Magic Box. Emma was upstairs being fawned over by Anya who had suddenly decided that all she wanted was her own miniature person, much to Xander's confusion. One moment, Anya was vowing to never speak to Xander again after the first wedding fiasco. The next she was talking about border colours for a baby room and how much, per annum, diapers actually cost.

Buffy rummaged through the shelves, pulling aside mason jar after mason jar of stinky weeds, thinking all the while that if Sunnydale police ever saw this place, they might think Anya the ring leader of a drug cartel.

Finally, she found it, tucked neatly under the burba weed, just where he

promised he would leave it.

She unfolded the square of paper hesitantly. His vampy senses must have

been rubbing off on her because she could smell him, sense him in the slip of parchment. The words were hastily jotted but in an immaculate hand. Buffy tried to remember if she had ever really noticed his handwriting before. Why would she when there were... other things.. to distract her? Crystal blue eyes, those errant curls when he first woke up, the curve of his arms, those statuesque abs.... OK, back to the paper, she thought, trying to stop that annoyingly wonderful tingle that had started at the base of her neck.

"Not safe yet. Need to find out who we're up against.

So you know, I didn't mean any of it.

Great mum. Perfect tot. No riddance of you is ever good.

Maybe about the cooking but there's always hope.

I love you.

Always."

"Every day," she answered, smiling. Quickly, she jotted those words on the corner of the paper, tearing it off and leaving it where he'd find it. Buffy pushed the reminder deep in her jeans pocket and trotted back up the stairs.

*****

"Argh. What in bloody hell do I do until dark?" Spike traipsed frustrated around the crypt. He had managed to put his jeans on but had stopped there for lack of motivation. "Woman even screwed up the sleeping thing. Vampires sleep in the day," he muttered as if reminding himself what it was to be a bad boy. He flopped down in the musty chair and flicked on the telly. "Can't even sleep at night without her." He smiled, thinking of her curled between his chest and legs, pressed against him. "Guess I'm not much of a Vampire anymore."

Spike found himself thinking about Emma. Knew how much he'd miss Buffy.

Went without her far too many times before. But never been away since the tot came round. A whole new hole opened in his heart. He missed the feeling of her weight in his arms, the smell of clean baby skin and vanilla. Like her mum that way. How when she fell asleep against him, her head always thudded against his chest in complete surrender. How she trusted him absolutely. Only one who'd ever done that. Though Buffy had come round nicely.

"What the hell do I do all day?" he grumped, shaking the thoughts to the back of his mind. He flicked though the channels like an armchair

quarterback on a Sunday afternoon. "Ooh, Passions," he almost squealed,

settling in. "Wonder what Timmy's been up to."

*****

"Angel, over there!" Buffy screamed, staking one vamp and spinning into the next. Angel had been out of day to day combat for far too long. He still had the skills, but he kept stopping after each one as if it were the last.

L.A. must be lame, she thought.

Angel took out the last one, really, this time and turned back to Buffy.

Much more fun with Spike, she thought. "Well, that was interesting," he

commented as she began down the footpath back to the house.

"Welcome back to the Hellmouth," Buffy quipped. She was trying to be

comfortable around him, but it wasn't coming easy. She felt exposed. Like her back was open in battle and her wounds were raw in her heart.

"Busy night?" Angel asked.

"Bout average," she answered, staying a few steps ahead. "At least for the last few weeks."

"Busy girl."

"I have help," she answered almost defensively. Angel went silent. Buffy slowed, allowing him to catch up. They walked in silence, side by side to the house.

Buffy stopped, sitting down on the stoop. Angel lowered beside her. Front steps only. Back steps were taken.

"Angel, I know this is ... weird."

"Yeah," he muttered. "You love him?" Angel asked. He knew it was to the point, but he needed to hear it. Love was not something Buffy gave away easily. At least not since him.

"Yes," she answered resolutely, turning toward him, looking him in the eye.

"I guess he's changed a lot since... well, you know, with the heart and

all..."

"How did you...?" Buffy stuttered, remembering Spike told her he had only explained about Emma.

"Vampire," Angel said, nodding.

"Right," Buffy responded, nodding back and smiling softly. Duh, she

thought. "But I fell in love with him before that." Angel looked at her for a long moment. "Guess you don't have the whole timeline. Emma... happened... before that."

"You mean?"

Buffy sat silently for a moment. She knew that this conversation would

happen. She knew she would one-day end up sitting next to Angel having to explain the how's and the why's of what had happened between her and Spike. When Buffy really thought about it, she didn't *have* to at all. There were no explanations owed. Angel himself had said she did not have to explain.

Suddenly, it dawned on her that she wanted to. "It started... wrong,"

Buffy began. "They brought me back and no one understood..."

She explained about Heaven and what it was like to be brought back. About how it made her feel, or not feel as the case may be. The brightness of it all. How she couldn't bring herself to tell her friends, except for Spike. That Spike had tried to help her. He listened and understood, but she felt even worse knowing that the only... thing... she could confide in was an evil soulless Vampire.

Angel smirked at that.

Buffy went on to explain that despite her disdain, she kept going back to Spike. Kept seeing him everywhere and telling him all of the dark little secrets of her existence. Even though she hated him, he was the only one that really understood. And she realized she really didn't hate him anymore. Which made her hate herself more. So she pushed him away.

Then she explained how *it* started.

Buffy sighed. "Spike found out he could hit me. Something happened when I came back and well, I didn't register with his chip. We started fighting and it felt..."

"Good?"

She shook her head. "It felt," she said simply. "I really don't know how it happened, but we fought and it sparked something and I... it ended up... differently."

"Differently?"

"The fisty parts became the feisty parts."

"Ah," Angel nodded in understanding, almost blushing. He didn't want to

hear this. Not from her. None of this from her. This was Buffy. *His* Buffy. He was torn between feeling like he should have been there for her and wanting to run again. That when she came to see him after she came back, he should have come back with her and helped her through it. But he didn't, did he? Because he didn't understand.

The rest of him wanted to run even now. Spike had succeeded where he had failed. He had gotten through to Buffy, captured her heart, believed himself into being because he loved her. Still, Angel did not want to hear this.

"It was the only time I felt anything... when I was with him. But I hated him for it. Which really was pretty horrible of me."

"Why?"

"Because I knew he loved me and I couldn't love him back. Not then." Buffy tried to explain that she couldn't love him because of what he was. Her narrow-minded view of good and evil, which had served her well for so long, had become... gray. There was no place for gray in her world. It didn't mean she *didn't* love him even then. It was more that she felt she was wrong to love him.

"So I tried to break it off. It hurt more than it should've. He left for a while. Managed to get the chip out. But it didn't change him. He came back in the middle of a hell storm caused by some...pokey demon."

"Pokey demon?" Angel chuckled.

"Some venom injecty thing. Made me jump back and forth in time."

"Always fun."

"Yeah," she chuckled. "And that's when I found out that I..."

"Defied all laws of science and theology?"

"That about sums it up," she said, smiling and dusting her hands.

"And everything has been puppies and rainbows since?" Angel asked.

Buffy laughed heartily. "Ha! No. But I need a shower and I have a date with my daughter, so can we save chapter two for another night?" she asked, standing up. Angel grabbed her hand as she stepped toward the door. She turned her head, looking down at him.

"Buffy, are you... happy... now?"

She smiled at him. " I think I'm happier now than I have ever been."

*****

Spike stood in the shadows at the corner, just out of direct sight of the house. The unlit cigarette dangled between his lips as he watched her walk in silence next to Angel. This hurts, he thought. Poofter's on patrol with my Slayer, sleeping in our house, near our baby. Not right. Bloody Wanker.

He watched her sit softly on the porch. Front porch. Oh, so don't have to hide with the nancy boy. Get a grip, he thought, rummaging in his pocket and producing a tiny slip of paper. "Every day," he read. Poofter doesn't have a chance.

Buffy was giggling, looking at Angel with those innocent doe eyes of hers, her hands fluttering like butterflies in her lap. Her pretty lips moving, her shiny hair lit like a halo by the porch light. Even from a distance, she could get a rise. Don't like that somber 'pity me' look he's givin' her though. And I was the snake in the grass, he thought.

Spike watched her stand up, leaving him there. Good girl. He smirked.

Then Angel grabbed her hand. Spike involuntarily lurched forward. Don't think I ever said anything bout touching her, his mind snapped at Angel.

His anger rose. Or was it jealousy? One of those seven deadly. Buffy said something and walked off. Spike relaxed. Good girl. Inside he sighed. All that was left on the porch was the bloody great Poof, brooding in the night.

A voice from behind him startled him out of his thoughts. "Need a light?"

To be contd.

Title: Three Vampires(The Peacemaker Prophesy, pt8)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG-13

Feedback: Yes, please

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing.

Summary: Spike finally makes contact with the vampires who are after his daughter. He also sneaks a little contact with Buffy. The hinge of

Gwydion's plan is revealed.

Three Vampires



"Need a light?" The voice in the behind him asked from the darkness.

Spike's hair stood on end as he spun toward the sound. His defenses kicked in and his mind reeled. Too bloody close to my girls, he thought. Not even paying attention enough to notice. The young, dark haired vamp produced a polished silver lighter from his trouser pocket.

"Right," Spike answered, pinching the cigarette between his thumb and

forefinger as the vampire flicked the lighter. Spike sucked softly until the tip was glowing blood red.

"So, *you're* the lucky vampire," the dark haired boy said.

"Lucky?" Spike chuckled.

"Got a heart and the daywalk. Killed two slayers and then fell in love with the third. Even have a child with her."

"Seem to know a lot about me," Spike commented, annoyed, blowing smoke at the young vamp.

"Sorry," he said, holding out his hand, "Simon."

"Well, *Simon*, seems you got it all wrong," Spike replied coldly, ignoring Simon's hand.

"What do you mean? You're a legend," the boy said. He wasn't a very good liar. Spike knew this was the little monster that had trailed him and Buffy on their last night together. The peroxide vamp sized up his stalker. Know thine enemy.

Simon had been turned at about twenty, from the looks of things. English, meaning chances were he was a minion of the master vampire. Polished. Educated. Looked as if he'd come from a well off family. Smelled as if he couldn't have been turned more than twenty years past. Spike decided to play the game, but he was going to hold the aces.

"First off," Spike said in his best big bad air, puffing at the cigarette and removing it from his lips in a James Dean flourish, "It's no great stroke of luck to have the old heart and lungs back. Sort of puts a crimp in the vampire style."

"But I thought you wanted..." Simon returned.

"You have no idea what I want," Spike hissed, grabbing the young demon's

throat. Good, the appropriate look of fright crossed the boy's face. Spike smiled smugly. Least he could still play a good bad.

"Why...why don't you tell me?" Simon stuttered. Spike dropped the boy

unceremoniously.

"No great gift of the gods to be saddled with the Slayer and her rat tyke either. Enough to make me want to stake myself," Spike continued

dramatically, shrugging his duster around his shoulders.

"But the stories say that you're love for her..."

"Love?" Spike asked, a monologue of epic proportions in his voice. The

drama never ceases. Maybe just the short version. " Nothing but a curse. We don't love like they do, blokes like us. Think we might, but we don't."

"Then..why..?"

"Don't remember telling you to ask me about the story of my sodding unlife," Spike huffed. Simon was silent.

"So, why are you here? Watching her?"

Spike took a long drag from the cigarette. He gestured at the porch.

"Didn't take the b***h long to move on, did it?"

"Angel," Simon sighed.

"How do you know Angel?" Spike snapped, reaching for Simon's throat again. Simon threw up his hands defensively.

"E...everyone knows Angel. Vampire cursed with a soul?"

"So, you get your rocks off studying up on freakish vampires?" Spike

snarked.

"Curiosity," Simon answered mildly.

"I wanna do the Slayer in. Done with her whining, her self-righteous

attitude, her nasty temper. Shoulda killed her when I had the chance."

Spike took the final drag off the cigarette, trying to kill the taste of

those words in his mouth. He crushed the remainder under the heel of his boot.

"What about the child?" Simon asked.

"Don't care one way or the other. Child's meaningless to me. Leave her

without the Slayer, she's as good as dead anyway." Spike forced the words from his lips. Of course, you'll have to go through me to get to either of them, mate, he thought.

Again, Simon was silent for a long time. They watched Angel get up from the porch and walk slowly into the house. " I think I can help you," Simon whispered.

"Help me? Don't need your bloody help," Spike snapped.

"No. You don't *need* it. But you might be wise to have it."

"What do you mean?" Spike asked, turning toward the boy.

"Your interests, and those of my employer, are much the same."

"I'd like to meet your employer," Spike said coldly. And sever his bloody head, he added in his mind.

"I'm afraid that's not possible. Not yet," Simon answered, shuffling his feet.

"Not interested," Spike replied simply, turning back toward the house.

"Well, think about it," Simon added calmly. "I'll find you in a night or two. If you still don't want his assistance, we'll just... leave you alone."

"Yeah, right," Spike answered, waving the boy off. Simon stepped back into the darkness and turned to go.

*****

Buffy rooted through the mason jars again, listening to the thick glass hiss against dusty wood. She wished this game were over. The only things getting her through were Emma and Dawn. Angel had mostly kept his distance. That awkwardness was almost as bad as the first few nights of endless explanations.

The paper was bigger this time. She fetched it from the mason jar and

hoisted herself onto the counter's edge, unfolding it and setting it on her lap. Same strong hand, but the note was all business today. Well dressed, dark haired, young vamp called Simon.... What kind of name is Simon for a Big Bad? Buffy thought. Reading on. Oh, not the big bad. Little bad. Still... Simon? A vision of singing chipmunks wandered through her head. Near the house. Spike was near the house? When? Minion of the master vampire. Supposed to meet with Simon tonight. Have more information tomorrow.

The last two sentences made Buffy smile.

"Check early tomorrow and bring Emma. If it's safe, I'll leave

word to meet me."

"YAY!" She chirped happily, bracing herself to hop off the counter. Strong hands latched onto her hips, stopping her leap.

A sharp twinge of fear shot down her spine, setting all of her muscles into fiery motion, until she felt soft lips against the skin of her neck. Buffy craned her head enough to see his blonde hair pressed softly between her shoulder and throat and feel his lips rather than teeth, tracing her skin.

He kissed his way softly to her ear. "Shhh," he hushed, his breath blowing on all too sensitive skin. Buffy quietly turned until they were face to face. Spike gestured a finger to his lips and she nodded, taking his face in her hands.

Buffy wanted to tell him that she missed him. That she loved him. She

pulled his face to hers and let her lips brush softly against his. She felt him smile as her tongue ran over the corners of his mouth and she gently sucked in his bottom lip. Spike pulled her forward on the counter, hands still clinging to her hips, her dangling legs wrapping loosely around his waist. The kiss deepened, his tongue dancing with hers, her breath catching in his throat, her soft palms still pressed sweetly against his cheeks.

Spike pulled away and looked at her, tracing every contour, every colour, ever blush into his memory. The way her hair fell loosely like golden silk around her face, and how her eyes sparkled even in darkness. Her lips swollen and freshly kissed. That might begin to get him through the night.

Spike leaned forward, pressing his lips to her ear. She tilted her head

softly, closing her eyes.

"No time. Just needed to see you. You know I love you, Pet."

Her face pressed to his. Cheek to cheek. "I know," Buffy whispered.

"Can't take much more," she continued. Words laced with sadness and desire.

"Close, Pet, soon," Spike answered. "Emma, OK?"

Buffy nodded, her face brushing deliciously against his cheek.

"Are you?"

"Miss you," she said softly. "Love you."

Spike pulled away to look at her again, brushing her hair from her face with gentle fingers.

"Buffy?" Xander called from the top of the steps. Spike touched her face one last time and disappeared.

*****

"This came for you," Simon said, handing a box to Gwydion. "From the

Council?"

"From Quentin," Gwydion corrected, setting the wooden box on the heavy oak table.

"What's inside?

"A talisman," Gwydion replied, running nimble, elegant fingers over the

wood, but not opening the box.

"What sort?" Simon asked, stepping forward, hands outstretched.

"The sort," Gwydion replied, grabbing Simon's wrist hard enough that it

almost snapped, "that none should play with."

"N...no sir. I would never..." Simon stuttered.

"Good," Gwydion replied, slipping almost too easily back to calmness.

"W..what does it do?"

"On the proper day, it makes the world forget the wearer is a vampire. It changes the rules."

"How?" Simon asked, in childlike wonder.

"A spell. It is only temporary, my boy, but while it lasts the wearer is, by all accounts, human."

"But wouldn't that...what about the strength? Senses?"

"I shan't imagine that destroying the child should take much strength, nor will finding her when the Slayer is not expecting a threat."

"What about the Slayer? The Souled one?" Simon asked. Spike was on their side, right?

"In due time, Simon," Gwydion answered, "it will all make perfect sense."

"How long does the spell last?"

"The talisman will be charged at the next full moon and remain so until the new."

"The full moon is.."

"Tomorrow," Gwydion interrupted. "So let's enjoy tonight." The master's hand rested on his protégé's shoulder. "It will work, my boy. It will be glorious."

"What about Spike? Shall I bring him here? Tell him?"

"*No*," Gwydion snapped, turning from Simon. "Go to him. Convince him to help us by tracking the Slayer. Report to you on her every move from dusk until dawn. Promise him you will bring him to me, but that now is not the time."

"But he... he won't help us without meeting you," Simon stuttered.

"Be convincing," Gwydion stated, picking up his snifter, twirling the liquid in the glass before sipping.

" I will try," Simon answered, reluctantly.

"If you cannot convince him, I have someone who can," Gwydion said, "but I'd rather not show my hand just yet."

"Yes sir," Simon commented, pulling on his coat.

"And Simon?"

"Yes?" the boy answered, his hand reaching the doorknob.

"Spike mustn't ever see me. Not until this is done. Then he will never forget my face."

To be contd.

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