Ch. 26: Life in Death (Pt. 1)

 

“That may not be entirely true.”

Just a sliver of hope, but enough to cling to. At this point, Angel would take anything. Anything.

“There may be repercussion. It’s why I’ve hesitated to mention it before now.” He broke off, removing his glasses so that he could put his thumb and forefinger over his closed eyes to prevent himself from crying. He took a steadying breath, then looked up at the other occupants of the room.

“I need to retrieve some things from my room. Why don’t we take a break for a few hours? We’ve all been going nonstop. Willow, you’ve done nothing but a spell and research since you arrived. How about if we all meet back here at,” he stopped to glance at his watch. 6:00 a.m. “11 o’clock? That will allow us to catch an hour or two of sleep and get refreshed.”

Feeling much steadier since his announcement, Giles began issuing directions. “Willow, your old room is available. Perhaps Fred can bunk with you?” At her nod, the two girls left, each retrieving one of Willow’s two suitcases that were still in the main foyer.

“Wesley, how’s the couch in the living room sound?”

“Rupert, right about now, the floor sounds inviting,” he replied, exhaustion evident in his voice.

“Good. Angel, you know where you are.” Nodding at Giles, Angel left, followed by Giles and Wesley.

~*~*~*~*~

Buffy woke feeling as if her whole body was encased in ice. “Cold,” she mumbled, her eyes fluttering open. Weakly, she tried to bring the covers up around her shoulders to get herself warm.

“Hey! You’re awake,” Spike whispered. He leaned up to look at her and felt like he had been kicked in the gut. Blue lines were slowly creeping their way up her neck, just cresting her jaw line. He reached out and ran his hand lovingly down the side of her face.

“Cold.”

“Well, let’s see if we can take care of that, pet.” He climbed out of the bed and slipped in to his jeans. He walked to the closet and grabbed a couple of blankets. Unfolding each one, he draped them in layers over Buffy’s body.

“Better, luv?” he asked once he was finished. She nodded and gave him a weak smile.

“Oh, guess who showed up last night? Willow. I could see if she’s awake. Would you like that?” She gifted him with a tremulous smile and nodded. He smiled back at her and told her he’d be right back. He opened the bedroom door and stepped out in to the hallway. Noticing Giles’ bedroom door open, Spike crossed the hall to peer inside. Giles was rushing around in his room, anxious.

“Giles?” he called trying to get the older man’s attention.

Giles stopped what he was doing and looked up guiltily at Spike. Spike’s eyes narrowed; he could hear the bound of the watcher’s heart, his nervousness, and he sniffed the air. Was that fear?

“What the bloody hell is going on, Watcher?”

Giles backed up a step when he heard the underlying menace in that question. Giles willed his heart to slow down, knowing his pounding heart was feeding his sudden rage. True, Spike had a soul now and obviously fought on the side of good. But, a soul alone would never hinder him the way his chip once would. It was something he had tried to explain to Buffy, but to no avail.

Taking a calming breath, he spoke. “Spike, we’re about to meet downstairs to go over some developments. If you would care to join us?”

Spike tilted his head to the side, regarding the watcher for a moment. Giles met his gaze, unflinching. Spike let it go for now.

“Can’t,” he said in response to Giles’ invitation. “Buffy’s awake and I told her I’d go get Red for her.”

“Maybe it’s for the best. We can discuss it later.” Secretly, Giles was a happy that Spike wouldn’t be there as he broke the news to the others. He had always been an emotional vampire and Giles had no way of knowing how he would take the news. Thankfully, Angel was there. Whatever past the two vampires have had, they appeared to have come to a tentative truce. Maybe when Spike found out, Angel could be a calming factor on his rage. “Willow is a few doors down the hall, in the room next to Dawn’s. She should be up since we had tentatively decided to get together at 11 o’clock and it’s just about that time now.”

“I’ll get Red to sit with Buffy and then I’ll be downstairs for your little pow-wow session.” Giles nodded and went back to gathering the things he would need to explain his understanding of the prophecy. Spike left the room in search of the witch.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike was just about to knock on the door to Willow’s room when the door opened inward. Lowering his hand, he said a polite hello to Fred. Willow walked up behind her and greeted Spike.

“What’s up, Spike?”

“Buffy’s awake and would like to see you.”

“She is… oh… that’s wonderful,” Willow gushed. “I’ll just go…” Spike smiled as the redhead darted around him and rushed off to Buffy’s room.

“I’m just gonna head downstairs,” Fred said.

Spike stepped back out of her way. He glanced over and saw Dawn’s door open. “I’ll be down in a sec. I’m just gonna talk to Niblet for a minute.”

“Niblet? Oh, you mean Dawn. Ok.” Spike walked off to see how Dawn was doing while Fred descended the stairs to see about Giles’ new development.

~*~*~*~*~

Angel, Wesley and Fred were the only ones in the office when Giles walked in and shut the door. Gripping the tattered scroll tightly in his hands he crossed silently to his seat behind the desk. Rather than put off what he had to say, and wanting to get through as much as possible before Spike arrived, he launched right into his interpretation.

“Wesley, you brought the translation to the original prophecy you received in L.A.?”

“Got it right here,” he said, producing a copy of the translation.

“Good. Reread the first stanza for me.”

“Spawned from darkness and evil. Yet, but for love willingly chose. To give up the demon inside. For which a soul now grows.”

“When we first translated it we thought of Angel,” Fred offered.

“Yes, I could see where you might make that mistake,” Giles commented. “The next part, Wesley.”

“As the one grows weak. And begins to decay. A kiss, mixed with blood. To keep death at bay,” Wesley read.

“And the last part,” Giles urged.

“A price will be paid. To save the one’s life. Forever immortal. No longer among light.”

“Yes, unfortunately, it all makes sense now.”

“What make sense, Giles?” This from Angel. He’d heard the translation before and it made no more sense now than it did the first time Angel heard it. Except for the first part and how it had seemed to be centered on him.

“While I was in England trying to decipher the text from it’s original form, I came across a short passage. Quite by chance, actually.”

“Don’t keep us in suspense, Rupert. Tell us already,” Wesley said.

“Yes, of course.” Taking a deep breath, he picked up a single sheet of paper and read. Not that he needed to read from the paper. The memorized words written on the sheet of paper he held taunted him.

“Two demon’s compromise. An ensouled phoenix shall arise. Mixed blood interwoven. To save all chosen. From unequivocal demise.” He put sheet of paper down on the desk. Pulling off his glasses, he threw them on top of the discarded paper, disgust with himself and the whole situation evident in his stiff bearing. His slayer was about to become that which she had spent the last seven years killing. But, two, not one demon would be battling within her body. And, if Buffy did not agree to it… well, she held not only her fate, but also the fate of the other slayers in her hand.

Ch. 26: Life in Death (Pt. 2)

 

Willow was shocked when she walked into Buffy’s room and saw the condition her friend was in. This was the first time Willow had had a chance to see Buffy since she had arrived. Things had been real hectic from the moment she had walked through the front door . And, it wasn’t like Buffy had been up to having visitors.

“Buffy! Hey,” she whispered softly. The email Buffy had sent her came back to her and understanding dawned on the witch’s face. Buffy knew that she was dying.

“Xander?” Buffy croaked.

Willow shook her head. She hadn’t heard from him in a while, and she didn’t know if Xander had received Buffy’s email or not. After the events of Sunnydale, Xander had gone off on his own once they had reached England. Remorse about Anya had hardened the once-comical, fun-loving man. Trying to escape the memories of his years in Sunnydale, he had left his friends, choosing to wander alone in distant countries, occasionally finding a new slayer to send back to Buffy or Giles. His emails of late had gotten more sporadic, as if he was drifting away from his friends, trying to leave his old life behind. When Buffy had sent the email, she wasn’t sure if Xander would get it in time, but she had to try. He was her friend, even thought they didn’t always see eye to eye on things, and she had wanted to say goodbye.

Seeing Buffy’s melancholy, Willow tried to lighten her mood. “Don’t worry, Buffy. Giles has a new theory. He’s actually talking to the gang about it now. We’re gonna make this better, you’ll see.”

Buffy gave her friend a reassuring smile, wanted Willow to believe that things would be ok. Unfortunately, she knew better.

“Can you get… paper… pen… in the drawer?” She lifted her hand weakly to point to the nightstand drawer. Willow got up quickly to do as she asked, bring back the blank paper and pen and handing it to her. She spied a book on the table on the other side of the bed, and rushed around to grab it, giving Buffy a flat surface on which to write.

Buffy attempted to write a letter to Spike, but in her much-weakened condition, she ended up only writing a few words. When she was finished, she dropped the pen on the bed beside her. Folding the letter in half, and then in half again, she brought it to her mouth to kiss. She held it out to Willow.

“For Spike. After…” Buffy choked out. Willow took the note, holding it close. Tears were now slipping unheeded down both girls’ cheeks.

“Buffy. It’s gonna work out. You’ll see,” she cried, moving to the bed to give her friend a reassuring hug. “I told you, Giles-“

Buffy shook her head. “Getting close. Can feel it.”

Just then, both girls heard shouting, followed by a bellow of rage. Spike.

~*~*~*~*~

“So, what are you saying? I have to turn her?” Angel demanded, yelling loudly. There was no way he was doing that to Buffy. Was Giles crazy? Buffy… a vampire? Or, was it half-vampire? Was there such a thing?

The door to the office banged open to reveal one pissed off vampire in all his glory. His below of outrage could probably be heard throughout the house.

“No. Bloody. Fucking. Way, Watcher!” Spike hollered as he advanced into the room.

“Spike, come in, please.” Gesturing to his bumpies, he told him to relax. Spike just crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

When the occupants of the room settled down once more, he went on with his explanation. “Angel, to answer your question, no you don’t have to turn her.” Then, he let the bomb drop. Eyes locked with Spike he uttered the words that would crush, possibly both vampires. “Spike does.”

“Me?” Spike whispered, confused. His demon features faded at his shock revealing the human mask once more. Tormented cerulean-colored eyes gazed back at him. “Why me?”

“Because, Spike, you are the vampire described in the prophecy.” He quoted softly, “Spawned from darkness and evil. Yet, but for love willingly chose. To give up the demon inside. For which a soul now grows. You willing chose to have your soul restored. Angel was cursed with his.” Giles glanced at Angel to see how he was taking this news. A flicker of emotion before it was quickly covered by his trademark brooding expression. Not as bad as he had expected.

“But…”

“Spike, Buffy had a slayer dream the other night. She hasn’t been able to tell you about it yet, but it all ties in to this prophecy. With your help, she will become the new guardian of the slayers, taking the place of the First Slayer. She is bound to them through the spell conducted with the scythe before your battle with The First. If her soul were to depart this plane, all the slayers that were instantly called would lose their abilities. I think this is what that demon was trying to achieve when he attacked Buffy. By killing Buffy, we would be left with just one slayer: Faith. It would be too good of an opportunity for the Draemuir demons to pass up. We have to keep Buffy alive. Well, if not technically alive, as she would be a vampire. But, her soul would be grounded here, enabling the slayers to live.”

Spike shook his head, unable to process all that Giles had told him. He turned to look at Angel. “I can’t. She’d hate me. Hate what I had done to her. Sire,” he spoke. Angel pushed up off the wall and walked over to Spike. He put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Spike was obviously distraught; so much so that he had acknowledged Angel with his title, rather than some off-the-wall nickname he would normally use in mixed company. Angel didn’t think Spike was even aware of what he had done. “William,” he spoke softly, for his ears alone, “it must be done. She will not hate you. Couldn’t hate you. It must be done and you will do this.” His tone brooked no argument.

Their whispered words were broken up when Willow came flying down the stairs and ran into the office.

“Giles! It’s Buffy. She’s-“ She got nothing else out before two vampires raced past her running up the stairs. They were out of time. It was time to fulfill the prophecy.

~*~*~*~*~

Thud. Thud.

Thud. Thud.

Thud. Thud.

Why hadn’t he noticed before? Her heartbeat was always there - beating in the back of his mind. He should have noticed the second it started to weaken. He reached the doorway and stopped dead in his tracks. Buffy was stretched out on the bed, body bowing slightly off the surface; her head was thrown back exposing the veins running down the sides of her neck. He didn’t have much time. He walked quickly into the room and crawled up along side her. He stripped off his shirt and flung it aside, not caring where it happened to land. Vaguely, he heard the bedroom door shut. Apparently, Angel thought it best that there should be no witnesses. And, he was grateful. If he had to look at the ‘Bit’s eyes, he didn’t think he could go through with this, prophecy be damned.

He pulled the covers off of Buffy and pulled her carefully into his arms. Spike lifted her hair back to expose the unmarked side of her neck. Before he could think better of it, he shifted and sunk his fangs in her neck, piercing her jugular. He’d had the blood of two slayers before her, but even in near-death, Buffy’s blood, by far, was the sweetest he had tasted. Even with the poison coursing through her. She had let out a slight moan as his fangs pierced her neck, but he was so gentle and she was so far gone with pain that the slight discomfort faded quickly.

Spike continued to drink from Buffy, leaning back on the bed with her draped over him as her limbs lost whatever strength she had.

Thud… thud.

Thud…thud.

Thud…… thud.

It was time. Reaching up, he sliced his chest, right near where her lips rested. Releasing her neck, he guided her lips to his cut, willing her to drink. Rolling over so that Buffy lay beneath him, he rose up on his elbows and allowed the blood from his cut to drip down into her open mouth. She could do nothing but swallow as gravity forced the blood down her throat.

Thud……..

Thud…….

With a final swallow, her heart stopped.

Ch. 27: It's All in the Preparation
 

Spike tenderly kissed the blood off of Buffy’s mouth before extracting his arms from around her body. Almost methodically, he rearranged her limbs so that she looked like she was just resting. Then, he climbed off the bed away from Buffy’s lifeless body. He walked two steps before he lost it. Blinding rage consumed him and he lashed out at the inanimate objects in the room. Nothing was safe from his path of destruction. Lamps, chairs – they all went flying as his grief tore through him. Tears fell steadily from his yellow eyes. He cursed the fates, God, everyone, for making him do this.

The bedroom door flew open as Spike continued his rampage. Angel could understand how Spike felt. He had stood outside her door, keeping everyone away, and listened as Buffy’s heart slowed and then finally stopped. But, he couldn’t let Spike beat himself up over this. This stuff was beyond him, beyond all of them. It had been preordained, and Spike was just a pawn in Fate’s machinations. It was time to remind Spike of that.

Angel grabbed Spike from behind before he could pull out the drawers to the dresser and fling them about. His fury was so great Spike just shrugged him off.

“Spike!” Angel hollered, once more grabbing him, trying to get him to calm down. “Spike! Stop it!”

“Ow!” he yelled as Spike elbowed him in the stomach attempting to break Angel’s hold on him. But, he didn’t let go. Angel could tell the exact moment when the rage wore off and the anguish began. Shudders racked the younger vampire, and Spike cried. Sinking to the floor as his legs gave out, he gave in to the grief he was feeling. Angel slipped down beside him and in a show of utmost compassion, pulled the younger vampire into his embrace and provided protection and comfort while he cried.

Angel didn’t say anything, just allowed Spike to grieve. Besides, there wasn’t much he could say right now. Spike was doing what Angel was unable to do. So, he let Spike cry for both of them.

Moments later, a blinding white light invaded the room and enveloped Buffy. Angel just stared in awe. For a second, Angel thought that he could make out the image of Cordy. But, then, the light got even brighter around Buffy and Angel had to shield his eyes against the glow.

“Spike. Look.” Spike was still crying, but not as hard as before. Angel tried to get his attention.

“William. Look at Buffy. She’s glowing.” Slowly, Spike lifted his off of Angel’s shoulder. He glanced at the bed and sucked in an unnecessary breath. Buffy was glowing. Just like an angel. He wiped his tears to clear his blurry vision. Realizing where he was, he scrambled out of Angel’s embrace and stood up.

His slayer was glowing! Glowing! What the hell – or should he say heaven – was going on?

Angel got up off the floor and came to stand beside Spike saying, “You did that, William. You are what’s keeping Buffy’s soul grounded here. So, don’t be sorry. Don’t hate yourself. True, she may be different. But, without you she would have died taking all the others with her. Never forget that.”

Silently, he left the room, leaving Spike alone with Buffy. He needed to tell Giles what was going on.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike hadn’t moved from where he stood gazing at his slayer when there was a knock at the door sometime later. After a pause, the door opened to admit Giles. He peeked around the corner of the open door then paused at the sight before him. As if in a trance, he came in and absentmindedly shut the door behind him.

“It’s true,” he whispered mostly to himself. Buffy lay in the bed and appeared to be sleeping peacefully. But, she was just glowing. There really was no other way to describe it. In all his years as a watcher, in all the texts he’d read, Giles had never come across anything that described what he was seeing. It was as if her soul was a blinding burst of light, refusing to leave her. This was a monumental event that would need to be documented, so that Watcher’s for years to come might now what his slayer had done – for all of them.

Shaking himself from his revere, Spike turned towards the watcher.

“I need to leave her for a bit. There are things I need to do, to prepare.” He didn’t go any further. He wasn’t about to tell the watcher of his plans. Didn’t want to hear his protests. And he would too. But, if Spike was doing this, he was going to do it right. He grabbed a clean shirt out of a drawer that, thankfully, was still attached to the dresser. He dressed quickly, told Giles to watch out for Buffy, then left the room. He didn’t know how much time he had before Buffy woke up. Normally, he would have a few days. But, well, his slayer never did anything the normal way.

The skies were still dark in the early afternoon because of the continuing rain, and it allowed Spike to leave without having to worry about his sun “condition.” He had snagged Niblet’s keys to make it easier and quicker for him to take care of what he needed to do. His first stop was a candle shop where he loaded up on dozens of candles in varying size, shape, color and smell. Buffy’s rebirth would be nothing if not special. Then, he scoped out a local hospital. He refused to allow Buffy’s first meal to be pig’s blood. He was determined make her as strong as possible, and if that meant human blood, so be it. And, it wasn’t like he was going to kill humans for her to obtain it. He was just going to nick it from the donor storage facility.

Leaving the car parked at an unused side exit, he walked around to the front and slipped inside. His duster billowed behind him as he moved quickly down the hall, water droplets leaving a trail behind him. Rather than head towards the ER department, figuring that that blood storage area would be constantly busy, he took the elevator to where surgeries were performed. Except for the odd emergency surgery, most were conducted by appointment. Traffic there shouldn’t be as bad. Luck was on his side, and he didn’t encounter anyone in the hall. Slipping inside the lab, he made his way towards the wall freezer that held all the donated blood.

‘Jackpot!’ he thought as he opened the door. The freezer was packed with blood; it must have been just recently stocked. He grabbed a box from under a counter and started dumping bags of blood inside. He was even careful to grab the more dated blood, leaving the newer stuff behind. When the box was full, he closed it then shut the cooler door. Picking up the box of blood, he swiftly made his way to the stairs, figuring people would be less likely to notice him. Down several flights and he was soon wending his way to the side exit where he had parked Dawn’s car.

He opened the front passenger-side door and set the box inside. Quickly, he crossed back to the driver’s side and slid inside. The rain was coming down in buckets and his hair was plastered to his head, water running unheeded down his face. His duster had protected his clothes from most of the deluge, but he could feel the front of his shirt plastered to his skin. He would have grabbed a couple of bags of blood for the drive home, it seemed like it had been forever since he fed. But, the thought of slush blood had him crinkling his nose in distaste. He could wait a few minutes until he was home and able to heat some up in the microwave.

~*~*~*~*~

When Spike arrived back at the house, the rain was still pouring as hard as ever. He guessed Mother Nature was just as pissed as he was at the slayer’s death. Ignoring the rain, he grabbed the five huge bags full of candles in one hand and the box of blood in the other and made his way inside. He dropped the bags in the foyer and took the box of blood into the kitchen.

Spike opened two bags of blood and dumped them into a huge mug and stuck it in the microwave. The remaining bags, about 40 of them, were placed in the freezer. He planned on gorging himself, and Buffy, on the human blood the first few days of her un-life. And just let someone try and stop him. The buzzer sounded and he pulled the mug out and gulped down the contents.

Ahhh. Human blood. He had almost forgotten what it tasted like; he’d been swilling the animal stuff for so long. He was just licking his lips when his Grand-Sire walked into the kitchen.

“Change of diet?” Angel asked, an underlying menace in his tone. He could smell the human blood on Spike.

Spike returned the glare. Without a word, he opened the freezer door revealing the bags of blood.

“I’m gonna do this, I’m gonna do it right,” Spike argued. “No Childe of mine is going to awaken to pig’s blood. So, I paid the hospital a little visit. Hell, I even took the older stuff.” He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the battle ahead.

Angel surprised him. “Just checking to make sure it wasn’t bodies you were stacking up, Childe.” Spike was at a loss. Had Angel stepped out of brooding mode to attempt a funny? He decided to tease him a bit. After all, it was what he did.

“And if I had?” he replied, trademark smirk firmly in place as he cocked his scared eyebrow. Angel moved forward to grab Spike and shake some sense in to him. He wasn’t even halfway to him when Spike started grinning like an idiot.

“Gotcha, Peaches!”

Angel turned and started out of the kitchen mumbling under his breathe about insolent Childer needing some discipline and not showing the proper respect. Spike chuckled and followed after him, his mood temporarily lightened.

Ch. 28: I Wrote You a Letter

Spike noticed the packages waiting for him in the foyer and his light mood evaporated. Grabbing the packages, he realized that it was awfully quiet in the house. When he got to the open doorway of Buffy’s bedroom, he realized why. Everyone was there, standing inside the room. Most had dazed expression on their faces. All gazed at the glowing figure on the bed with something akin to awe. He felt it too, but that didn’t mean that everyone else had to witness it, dammit! The awakening of a Childe was a private matter, and these people were intruding.

Seeing that Spike was about to erupt, Angel began slowly ushering the people out of Buffy’s room. Finally, it was just Spike, Angel, and Willow standing in Buffy’s room. Willow walked over to Spike and handed him a folded piece of paper.

“What’s this, Red?” he asked. Then, he caught a whiff of Buffy. He brought the paper up to his mouth and sniffed. Closing his eyes, he inhaled, letting her scent wash over him.

“Buffy… she…asked me to,” Willow was floundering. Her friend, for all intents and purposes, was dead. And Buffy knew. Knew that she was going to die. “She said it was for after,” she whispered. Tears falling freely down her face now, Willow rushed out of the room to search for Dawn. Maybe between the two of them, they could find some type of comfort. Dawn had left before Angel could force her, refusing to speak to the blond vampire.

Spike walked over to the chair Buffy used to curl up in to write in her journal. Cautiously, he unfolded the paper. Buffy must have written this recently, if Willow was the one handing it to him. He looked down at the paper and read.

Journal

Read

Love You

Make Angel tell… Cookies

The few words scribbled stared back at him. Obviously this was important to her. She must have written it right before he rushed up here. Right before he killed her.

“What is it?” Angel asked softly.

“She said she loves me. First time she mentioned it since I showed up. She says to read her journal. Then, there’s something here about cookies, said to ask you.” Spike looked up at Angel questioningly.

Reluctantly, Angel told him about the conversation he had with Buffy. Told him about his arrival in Sunnydale before the fight with The First. About that kiss that Angel didn’t think Spike had seen, but had more than likely been able to smell. About Buffy’s subsequent talk of her being cookie dough and that one day she’d be cookies.

“And, that’s what she told me yesterday. That she was now cookies. You made her cookies.” Hope shined in Spike’s eyes as he gazed up at his Grand-Sire. Maybe she wouldn’t hate him when she woke up.

“I’m going to leave you now. I’m sure there are things you’d like to do before Buffy wakes.” Nodding, Spike stood up and walked with Angel to the door.

Angel still needed to talk with the others about what he had found out while at Wolfram & Hart. They had been sidetracked when they had heard about Buffy’s situation, and there had been no talking to any of them. Now that they’d been banished from the room, it was time to formulate a plan of attack for when Buffy rose. She was going to be needed to help close the portal to the Draemuir dimension once and for all.

After Spike closed the door behind Angel, he went to the bags he had placed inside the door. Dozens upon dozens of candles were inside and he started pulling them out to set up all over the room. Then, he walked through and lit each one of them. He turned off the artificial lighting, leaving only the candles burning in the room. While he was gone someone, probably Angel, righted the mess he had made of the room during his earlier rampage. When the room was to his liking, he exited soundlessly, making his way down to the kitchen once more. He opened another two packets of human blood in a mug and heated it in the microwave. He wasn’t hungry, but the more human blood he had coursing through his veins, the better it would be for Buffy. So, he’d continue to eat every few hours until she awoke.

He finished his mug quickly, not wanting to encounter anyone. His guilt was still riding high, and he didn’t want to see any accusing stares pointed his way. Although if he stopped to think about it, no one – except possibly the Niblet – had looked at him like he was a monster. But, it still didn’t make him feel better. While secretly he was glad that Buffy would be around for all eternity with him, the last thing Spike had wanted to do was turn her. She was sunshine and light, not the darkness he had become so long ago.

Once more closeted in the bedroom, he went to the chest that held Buffy’s journal and opened it. Various memorabilia lay within, and Spike took note of a few things. A shawl her mother once wore. A couple of pieces of art, probably stuff that had once been displayed in her mother’s room. Reaching into the box, he pulled out Buffy’s journal. He shut the lid and walked back to the chair that was placed across the room. Sitting once more, he opened the journal to the first page, and began reading Buffy’s words.

~*~*~*~*~

May 20, 2003

God I feel stupid doing this. But, Giles thought it would help. Practically demanded it is more like it. What, am I like fifteen again I yelled at him. He just gave me that uptight, pompous Watcher look and said that ‘he’ was far older than fifteen and he still kept a journal. I just rolled my eyes at him and walked away. Well, I wrote something, so there! God, I’m tired. I just want to sleep, for say, the next month straight.

Spike traced his fingers across the first journal entry. His slayer didn’t like to write, obviously. He had to chuckle at the uptight, pompous Watcher comment. He had always thought the same himself.

~*~

June 1, 2003

Don’t think this is going to become an everyday occurrence. I’m just bored, that’s all. We’ve been in L.A. for the last ten days resting and recuperating. Hiding, if the truth be known. We’ve had no contact with the outside world. Our little group has stayed to themselves. We didn’t want to attract attention. And, we damn sure didn’t want to run into the pseudo-Scooby gang here.

Giles has had Willow trying to break into bank records to enable him to become the power-of-attorney for the Council’s resources. She finally broke in yesterday. Can I just say yay! Now we’ve got access to the Council’s funds. And, I have to say, when I looked at the bank balance I was shocked. Couldn’t they send a little of that my way??? Sheesh. Do they know what I went through almost two years ago? They could have spared me the humiliation of working in that God forsaken Meat Palace! Stingy bastards!

Anyway…

Now that we’ve got access to money, we’re leaving California behind. Personally, it can’t come fast enough. The more miles between the closed Sunnydale Hellmouth and me, the better! Giles has rented a Winnebago and we’re headed to Cleveland. Apparently, there’s another Hellmouth there, and Faith is gung-ho about keeping an eye on it. More power to her! Thoughts of that camper on wheels bring back…

Spike flipped the page, but the entry just ended and another began. So, he continued to read. After the first initial lapse in the dates, he noticed that she started writing daily. She described her cross-country journey, how they had picked up a few slayers along the way to Cleveland. She mentioned the small building they had converted to a local headquarters with the help of Council money. Apparently, Giles wasn’t skimping now that he had taken over. Buffy wrote that they had spent over a week there getting things set up before she, Dawn, Giles, Willow, Andrew, and Xander caught a flight out of the states headed for England.

After a bit, he looked up from the journal to glance at Buffy. She was still glowing and showed no signs of waking. And though he wasn’t hungry, he made a quick trip to the kitchen for more blood. Once back, he picked up the journal and re-immersed himself in her words.

~*~

June 21, 2003

Well, we made it. All six of us. Although, if I have to listen to Andrew drone on and on anymore I’m going to put my slayer abilities to good use and beat the crap out of him. Damn, he doesn’t shut up! And, what’s with the damn tweed? He does realize that he doesn’t have to wear that crap to be a Watcher-in-training, I hope. Shoot, even Giles got rid of the stuffy clothes!

June 22, 2003

Willow and Giles would be so proud. I’ve turned into a regular research girl. Not that they’d be too happy with what I’m researching, but who cares. I’ve long since given up caring what they had to say. Well, not really. But it felt kinda good writing that. Though, this was one subject they couldn’t make me change my mind about.

He gave me a starting point, and with a little unknown help from the archived computer records of the Council, it wasn’t too hard to find what I was looking for. I have his name as well as his birth and supposed death dates. So, I’m off to the Family Record Centre. Don’t ask me why I’m doing this, I probably couldn’t tell you. But, the more I know about him, even if it was the human him, the closer I feel to him.

‘What in the bloody hell?’ Spike thought as he looked up from the journal to glance at Buffy. She had actually gone looking for information about him? He turned the crisp page of the journal and noticed that pages now looked slightly warped as if they had gotten wet. Some of the writing was smudged, but not unreadable. All her previous entries had lacked emotion, as if she were just reciting a blow-by-blow narrative of her time spent since the averted Sunnyhell apocalypse. Something must have happened, because the next entry had him trembling and shedding tears of his own.

~*~

June 25, 2003

I can’t stop crying. My heart is broken and I feel so lost. I tried going there. To that alley. Don’t ask me why. It had been over a hundred years ago, and it probably wasn’t even there. But, it was. Don’t ask me how I knew that this one was the right one, I just knew.

I just wanted to feel closer to him. To my Spike. And, what better place than where he was made. That alley that Drusilla had found him in so long ago. Crying because his heart had been broken by that bitch Cecily. It had changed a little. Gone were the bails of hay. Now, a dumpster and forgotten wooden crates littered the area. I crouched down behind a few, holding my knees to my chest and lost it. I sat there in that dank alley and thought about my life and what I had done over the last few years. The hateful things I said to him. Snide bitchy remarks meant to inflict pain. I knew he was trying to change, knew it, and still I belittled him. Over and over. Just as I’m sure Cecily had. God, I’m no better than her.

I remember the punishment he took at the hands of Glory, just to protect Dawn. For me. Always for me. Remember seeing his battered face, his abused torso. Glory had taken great delight in carving that smooth alabaster perfection. And, there I was, going to kill him. Just to keep him quiet. We couldn’t have him spilling our secret, could we? I felt shamed when he was fooled into thinking I was the Buffybot and he told me, it, how if anything had happened to Dawn, it would destroy me. And, that he couldn’t stand to see me in pain. And still, bitchy me, I had to get in a lick about that damn robot.

But, he came back. He thought nothing of himself as he agreed to drive us out of Sunnydale in that beat up Winnebago, still mending from his injuries. And, God, the insults and accusations he took from Giles, Xander, all of them. But he did it, for me. Grabbed the sharp end of a sword with his bare hands to protect me.

I remember the look in his eyes when we got back to Sunnydale and I invited him back inside. The love, the adoration, the gratitude. I dismissed it all. He was evil. And, I, I was the slayer. The chosen one, destined to kill all evil. I couldn’t afford to believe that he had feelings, that he had changed. I couldn’t take a chance. And, there was the gang. Whispering. Evil dead. Demon. Just waiting for his chance.

But, did Spike take off. No. Even after I was gone. He stayed. Protected Dawn. Helped the Scoobies. He did it for me.

Then, I’m dragged out of heaven. Lost and confused and back in hell on earth. Betrayed by my friends. I don’t know what to feel, my emotions were gone. And then, he punches me. Punches me! And, I could feel. Just a little. So, we fight our dance. Then, it changes and I want a different kind of dance. So, what I want, I get. Right? It’s not like I’m taking advantage of him. He’s wanted this. For a long time. His taunting words that I’d come back wrong play in my mind. It’s the excuse I need to allow myself this contact. So, I take and take and take some more.

Once we wake up and the haze wears off I realize what I’ve done. There’s something wrong with me. There has to be. Why would I sleep with an evil, soulless demon. His only restraint, that damn chip in his head. At least that’s what I tell myself. Never mind all the times he’s been there for me. But, I fool myself into believing there’s something wrong with my and I use him. Oover and over, I use him. Only with him do I feel even slightly alive. Even after I find out that there’s nothing wrong with me, I continue to use him. I make him tell me how much he loves me then I beat him for even daring to think that he can love. And, he just lets me. Lets me beat on him as if it’s my right. God, what kind of sick person was I? Am I?

Then, I finally tell him it’s over. But, I’ve said it before and I still come back. It’s like a game. I refuse him, he convinces me with drugging kisses, melting my resistance. Only, the last time, it wasn’t a game. And, he didn’t realize. But, it’s partly my fault. Deep inside, I knew that. Knew the mixed signals I had been sending him. Yet, when he finally realizes and stopped. Horrified at what he had done. Image that. A soulless demon horrified. And I just hurl more insults his way, laying the blame entirely at his feet.

And, what does my Spike do? Realizing what he’s done to me, how he’s hurt me, he runs off to Africa. For what, you might ask? A God Damn Soul. That’s what. Because, he wants to be a better man. For me. Always for me.

I remember how he held me close as those final days neared to an end. Before our big confrontation with The First. How everyone – my friends, my former Watcher, even my sister – told me that I had to leave my own house. That I couldn’t be there. Couldn’t be a part of it. So I left. I walked out that door. I wandered around dazed, kicked some guy out of his own home and laid down on his bed. And, the one person that comes after me is Spike. My beautiful ensouled Spike. He calmly restores my faith in myself then holds me through the night, making sure that I’m not alone. Then, he pays the ultimate sacrifice for me. And, I wish he hadn’t, because now he’s gone, and I’m all alone once more. God, I wished I’d stayed with him.

I don’t know how long I sat in that alley and wept. For him. For me. For us. If my journal is anything to go by, probably two days. Time has ceased to have any kind of meaning for me right now. I sat in that alley and cried, and slept, and cried some more. Vampires, demons – they all left me alone. Although, I almost wished one had come along, ended my pain. But, as you can see, I’ll still here.

I returned home eventually. Well, to Giles’ home. I didn’t have one anymore. They opened the door when I knocked (yeah, I knocked. I don’t know why.) They were all with the whispered words, worried glanced they passed back and forth between one another that they thought I didn’t see. But, I see everything now. Everything is so clear. They never asked me where I had been. And, I never talked about it. To anyone. Only here. Where I can pour out my heart and soul for a vampire I realized I loved, too little too late.

Spike ran his hand over the last line of the entry. Tears fell from his eyes to blend with – what he could only assume were – her dried ones on the crinkled pages. Something had caused the pages to warp. It tormented him that she had cried for him. And, he kicked himself for not coming to her sooner. Even if he had been temporarily bound to L.A. and Wolfram and Hart.

He turned the page of her journal and read about how she had soon left England behind. She couldn’t bear the memories of England and wanted to leave them behind, leave all of them behind. With her sister, she had traveled for the summer before they needed to settle some place and get Dawn enrolled in school. She had covered a lot of ground in a few short months, before finally deciding on Rome. She figured that the Catholic capital of the world was as safe a place as any to live. He had to chuckle at her naiveté. For all the churches it possessed, it still provided an irresistible lure for demons.

Xander and Willow had also eventually departed Giles’ side, each going to opposite ends of the globe in search for new slayers, and to perhaps escape their own personal demons. Only Andrew had stayed with Giles, slowly helping him to rebuild the Watcher’s Council. Spike stopped once he reached the point in her journal where he had shown up. He’d save that for another time. Buffy should be waking soon, and he needed to feed some more and bring the extra bags of human blood up to the room. Maybe he could even manage to nick the microwave. Once she awoke, he had plans to be barricaded in the room for at least a week.
 

Ch. 29: Awakenings
 

Spike stripped and crawled into bed beside Buffy. The glow was starting to diminish around her, almost as if it knew that she would soon be waking. He gazed down at her – willing her to wake up and look at him, tell him she wasn’t mad for what he had done. Done to her. While she slept, the blue lines had receded from her face and neck leaving the slight tan she had had before this whole mess had started. Although, that too would fade with time. She would be like him, destined to hide from the sun.

Earlier, he had kicked off the extra blankets he had placed on her so that now only a sheet covered her body. This, he slowly lowered so that he could see how much her body had healed. Lifting the silk chemise above her hips, Spike noticed that the scar had healed, and there was no trace of the blue poison visible anywhere on her body. Lightly, he ran his hand over where the scar used to be then leaned down to place a light kiss on the spot. A soft moan had him raising his head to look at Buffy’s face.

Her eyelids started to flutter before finally opening. The first thing she saw as her vision cleared was Spike.

“Spike? What happened?” she asked softly, confused. She glanced down at her body. The glow had faded, leaving behind her slightly sun-kissed skin, void of any of the poison that had been evident in her body.

“We… I fixed you,” Spike stated, as he moved up her body and pulled her into his arms. They lay there, side by side, gazing at each other.

“Fixed me? How?”

“How? You don’t remember?” he asked, stalling. Flashes began to drift through her mind.

Cold.

Dying.

Wanting Spike. Finding him there, holding her.

Teeth piercing her neck, not hurting. Comfort. Protected.

Positions reversing. The blood.

Blackness.

Spike watched the emotions play across her face as she started to remember what happened to her. He saw the exact moment she realized what he had done. And, he waited. Waited for her rage, her disgust, at his betrayal. Because of what he had done, he’d denied her entrance back into heaven. And he waited.

It never came.

She looked up at him with wonder in her eyes. Slowly, she reached out one hand and ran it down his sculpted cheekbone then gently cupped his chin. Lightly she ran her thumb over his closed lips. The soft caress had him trembling and he closed his eyes against the sensation.

“Forever,” she whispered, understanding.

His eyes flew open at her softly spoken words. His blue eyes looked into hers, penetrating deep, searching for any hint that she might hate him. He saw nothing, no revulsion, just wave after wave of love pouring from her hazel eyes. He cupped her face with both hands, repeating the vow, “Forever.” Then, he pulled her close and kissed her, sealing their vow.

~*~*~*~*~

This kiss was carnal, wanton. Both knew what the other liked and weren’t shy about giving it or demanding it. Their tongues dueled. Each reacquainted themselves with each other’s tastes and textures. Spike broke the kiss momentarily to whip the chemise over her head, leaving Buffy’s bare body exposed to his gaze. Then, he claimed her mouth once more, his tongue demanding entrance, which was immediately given. When Spike tasted blood, he groaned, delighting in her taste. Deepening the kiss to get more. Then, his eyes flew wide when he realized what she had done. Buffy – his Childe – had nicked herself with her fangs, allowing him to taste her.

Realizing that she hadn’t had her first meal yet, he tore his mouth away from hers. Groaning at the loss, Buffy opened her eyes and looked at him.

“What’s wrong, Spike?” she questioned provocatively. It had been so long since they had been together like this and Buffy was trying to make up for lost time.

“You need to feed first, luv. You’re very weak, though you may not realize it.” She wrinkled her nose at that. Feed. That was sure going to take some getting used to. Then, she started to panic. Feed. Blood. People. Seeing where her thoughts were going, he quickly rushed to reassure her.

“From me, pet, from me,” he whispered, twisting to pull her naked body on top of him, guiding her to his neck. Sliding one hand into his hair, Buffy gently tugged his head to the side. Instinctively, she found his jugular; her fangs poised above it, just breaking the skin. “Go on, luv,” he whispered. “Drink me…aaaahhhh” he broke off as her fangs struck deep and she began to suck at his neck. “That’s it, baby. Taste me. Feel me.” God, he had forgotten what this felt like. The connection. The belonging. The arousal. His nostrils flared. He could smell it coming off of her, just as he was sure she could smell it on him. Growling, he pulled her closer, aligning her body with his.

Buffy exalted in the taste of him. Spike wasn’t kidding. It was about the blood. And, she couldn’t get enough of him. Her Spike, now her Sire. She continued to pull deep mouthfuls before swallowing, moaning at the taste as it slid down her throat. Allowed it to fill her up, revitalize her. It was driving her crazy. The throbbing in her womb told her that she needed him inside her. Sliding in and out as she drank, connecting in a way only they could. Now. As vampires.

He had to be inside her. Needed to be inside her. Sex and blood – they went hand in hand. He rolled over, pinning her beneath him, as she continued to feed from his neck. Poised at her sopping entrance, he buried himself to the hilt with one smooth thrust. Her inner walls clamped around his cock like a steel vise, squeezing him for all he was worth. He stilled within her, letting her adjust to his invasion. Besides, she hadn’t finished feeding yet. Buffy quickly disengaged her fangs from his neck and instinctively licked the wounds closed. She could finish feeding later. Right now, she wanted him, pounding into her for all he was worth. She spread her legs wider, allowing him to settle more deeply between her legs. Spike groaned.

“Buffy…aaahhh…” She was trying to shift underneath him, urging him to move. “Luv….please…” Another moan. “You gotta finish feed…” His voice trailed off; Buffy had just grabbed his hips and pushed, allowing his cock to slip out of her a ways. Then, she grabbed his ass and slammed him back home again.

“Later. I need you now,” she whispered in his ear, her tongue darting out to trace along the shell. “Please, Spike,” she begged as she wrapped her legs around his lower back, moving her arms up to his shoulders before dragging her nails down his back deep enough to leave scratches.

Hell, this was going to be fast. So much for the foreplay he had planned. Spike just prayed that she was as close to the edge as he. Removing one arm from underneath her shoulders, he reached down and grabbed her ass trying to bring her even closer. Then he began to thrust. Only, this was no tame lovemaking. It was feral, mating at its most elemental. Spike pounded into her almost brutally, over and over. Claiming her. Possessing her. And Buffy didn’t care. She gloried in it. His taking. Her nerve endings were tingling. She was ready to launch herself from the abyss and fly. So close now.

Spike could sense that she was ready. He gripped the hair at the back of her neck and tugged her head to the side exposing his mark. His face shifted and lowered towards them. When his fangs penetrated her neck and he pulled her blood into his mouth, the sensation shot straight to her core and she came, a growl torn from her throat. Her inner walls squeezed him, coaxing him to join her. Wanting her lover with her, Buffy sunk her own fangs back into her previous mark, pulling her Sire’s blood into her mouth to slide blissfully down her throat. The taste of him, she couldn’t get enough.

Her fangs were his undoing. His orgasm crashed over him, and he tore his mouth from her neck shouting her name. As the last of the tremors that shook his body subsided, Spike collapsed on top of her. Buffy released his neck once more and began lovingly licking the wounds. Shifting slightly, he slipped out of her and rolled to his back, bringing Buffy to lie along side him. Seeing the blood oozing slightly from his bite, he leaned over to lick it up while running his tongue over his mark to close it. Sated, they both lay there for a moment, cradled in each other’s arms.

~*~*~*~*~

Downstairs, Angel could hear the two lovers yet tried to ignore them. And the blood, dear God! He could smell it, practically taste it. It was family. And even though she was Spike’s, Buffy was now tied to him. The House of Aurelius now had a slayer among its ranks. And not just any slayer. A Guardian Slayer, similar to the First Slayer.

He had the rest of the members of the house, along with Fred, Wesley, and Giles, gathered in the living room: 1) because he knew what it was like when a fledgling first arose and 2) because what he needed to say involved them all. Well, would involve them all. Now was as good a time as any to start preparing to deal with the demons of the Draemuir dimension and getting that portal closed, permanently. Ignoring the moans and smell of blood wafting down from the second level, Angel launched into the reason for this meeting.

“As you know – well, most of you anyway – Buffy was attacked by a demon from the Draemuir dimension. His goal was to end the slayer line by killing her, which would release her soul from this plane. Giles, maybe you can explain the whys a little easier?”

“Right, of course. As Angel was saying, this demon knew how to render all of you obsolete, leaving only Faith as the single slayer. And, what he knew, and we eventually found out, was that Buffy was the key to all of you simultaneously being called. It had something to do with the scythe recognizing her as its owner when the spell was done. So, if she were to die…” He paused to remove his glasses for a thorough cleaning. “If she were to die, each of your slayer abilities would be gone.”

Sensing that Rupert was starting to get choked up, Wesley stood up and continued. “As near as we’ve been able to determine, the Draemuir demons are attempting to take over here. But, with the multitude of slayers now populating the Earth, it’s not feasible for them. That’s why they probably concocted this plan.”

“Which leads us back to why,” Angel continued. “Using the extensive resources at Wolfram & Hart, I’ve been able to find out that the Draemuir demons roamed the Earth but were banished by rival demon clans almost two thousand years ago. Apparently, there was some type of loophole in the spell that allows them to attempt a return every two thousand years. And, that deadline is a little over a week away – on the day of the full moon of the eleventh month. Which translates to next Thursday.”

“But, that’s Thanksgiving!” Willow shouted, then blushed, embarrassed by her outburst.

“I don’t think the demons had that in mind when they planned this, Willow,” Giles stated deadpan. Everyone in the room looked at him for a minute and then they all burst out laughing. Well, everyone, that is, except Angel. His normally brooding face softened for a moment, before evening out once more.

“What?” Sweeping the room with disdainful eyes, he fixed each occupant with a glare usually reserved for uncouth hoodlums. Yet, they continued to laugh.

“Oh dear Lord, what is so bloody funny?” he asked in his most exasperated, put upon, longsuffering, why-the-hell-am-I-stuck-here-with-all-these-juveniles voice. That just sent the room into a second round of laughter. Even Angel chuckled this time.

Realizing that no more discussion was to be had regarding the upcoming confrontation next week, Giles stiffly excused himself from the group, retreating to the office to see if he could formulate some type of plan for next Thursday. Angel had followed him, retreating to a corner, a pad of paper and pencil in his hand. Fred and Wesley joined them after a bit, while the girls curled up in front of the TV to watch movies. No one wanted to venture upstairs to better hear the faint sounds coming from above.

Ch. 30: Explanations

“Do you hate me?”

They weren’t exactly the first words Buffy had expected while laying in her post-coital bliss. Actually, she didn’t think they were even in the top ten. Yet, she could hear the underlying apprehension in his voice. She just didn’t know why. She needed to ease the distress she heard in his voice, she just wasn’t sure how. This was all so new to her. She had so many questions. Most of which, she didn’t think anyone would have the answer for. But, she pushed the thoughts aside and concentrated on him.

“Hate you? No, I don’t hate you, Spike. Why would I?”

He put his hand beneath her chin and lifted it so that he could look into her eyes. Seeing just love reflected in their hazel depths had him releasing an unnecessary breath. Grateful, he let his eyes close as his forehead came to rest on her.

“I was so sure you would. I kept you…” He broke off; flashbacks of her conversation about being pulled out of heaven came back to haunt him. “I kept you out of heaven. Giles said-“ He was starting to get worked up.

“Shhhh…” she tried to soothe him, holding him tighter. Her face rested in his neck and she nuzzled her bite marks from earlier in an attempt to calm him. “It’s ok, Spike. Not exactly what I was expecting. But--“

“What do you mean, not what you were expecting? You were expecting something? Why the bloody hell didn’t you tell me?” He was getting upset all over again.

“It’s not like I had a chance to tell you--“

“The slayer dream. Giles mentioned your slayer dream.”

“Spike, would you shut up and let me finish,” she said, exasperation clearly evident in her voice. Spike didn’t take too kindly to her voice if his growl was any indication.

“Sorry,” Buffy said, backing off instinctively at that warning growl.

“No, I’m sorry, pet. Old habits are hard to break, I guess,” he said with a sigh. “So, this slayer dream. It’s what told you that something was going to happen?”

“Yeah. Kinda. And, I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you. I knew something was going to happen, just not what exactly. I was going to tell you about it. Honest. I just ran out of time.” Just the memory of her remembered condition had Spike tightening his embrace once more.

“So, in my dream, I saw the First Slayer. Only, not like before. Well, the first time, yeah, she was all wild woman and cryptic. And, before you even interrupt me again, I had two slayer dreams. So… anyway. I’m in this cave and I see her. Only she’s gorgeous. Beautiful clothes. Nice turban. Smooth complexion. I never knew what the white and black paint hid.” Buffy could sense his annoyance at her digression, and she rushed on with her explanation. “So she sits down, calm as you please, and tells me that she’s preparing for her funeral and that a new guardian was coming. Me. Because, like, I haven’t done enough, mind you. And, it’s because of the spell from before. You know, the one I had done with the scythe?”

“I remember.”

“Yeah, and well. I guess the scythe recognized me as its owner and when the spell was cast, part of my essence was passed on to the other potentials. So, I’m tied to them and they to me. I just didn’t figure on this whole immortal thing. I mean, I knew I was going to die--“

“What do you mean you knew you were going to die?!” he roared. His anguish making him yell a little louder than he would have liked.

“Geeez. Loud much?” Buffy tried for some levity. His pointed stare told her that it didn’t work. She gave a long-suffering sigh. Her human traits not completely worn off.

“That would have been the first slayer dream. It’s weird, actually. It was the same one I had before the battle with Glory. Scared me to death. Uh, sorry.”

Spike just grunted.

“So, I have this dream. I freaked. But, after the second one I knew. It was going to be ok. Only, I figured that I’d be more like the First Slayer, you know. Coming in dreams, and such. I didn’t realize that I’d actually be undead. So, to get back to your question.”

Lost in her explanation, Spike had completely forgotten his initial question. He looked at her, confusion marring his features.

“Hating you…”

“Ahhhh, right.”

“I can’t hate you. You’ve made it possible for me to stay. I can see Dawn grow up, get married, have some kids. True, I may not be able to take them to the beach, or the park, or pick them up from school. But, I can hold them, and watch them grow, be here. Not just some wisp of energy, or whatever the First Slayer was.” Tears of happiness were falling from Buffy’s eyes. True, she may have not wanted to become a vampire or whatever hybrid thing she was now, but it was a small price to pay for getting to stay. Plus, she wouldn’t be alone in her immortality. She’d have Spike with her.

“Buffy-“ he whispered. So overcome with emotion, he could only say her name. Pulling her close, he nuzzled his mark. Heaven. It felt like he had been given a glimpse of Heaven. Strange coming from a demon who had no hope of reaching that destination, but that’s ok. Heaven was here on earth, Buffy by his side. An immortal, like him. He couldn’t ask for anything more. He saw her eyes flash yellow and realized that she hadn’t had a proper meal. He was surprised that her demon hadn’t made its displeasure known before now. Although on the other hand, it knew better than to demand anything of its Sire. Time to rectify that.

Slipping out of her embrace, Spike strode to the cooler he had brought in earlier. Lifting the lid, he grabbed a package of blood. His facial features shifted and he sunk his fangs into the bag, draining it in a few short pulls. Damn, he should have nicked the microwave! He’d have to remedy that situation. Because, cold blood? Ick! He grabbed another bag and did the same. Then, two more. When he was finished, he slipped back into bed, leaning back against the headboard.

He grabbed Buffy’s hand and tugged on it, silently gesturing her to straddle his lap. His cock sprang to life as her naked form settled in his lap facing him. He tilted his neck to the side, invitingly. “Time to finish feeding, luv.” Buffy needed no further urging, quickly shifting her facial features then sinking her fangs back into his neck. As her Sire’s blood slipped down her throat, she practically purred at the taste. Greedily, she fed from him, taking long pulls of his intoxicating blood. The sweet ambrosia quickly overcoming any qualms about feeding in the first place.

Spike leaned his head back against the headboard, eyes closed, while Buffy fed. He ignored his raging hard-on and just basked in the feel of his Childe feeding from him. He let her take as much as she wanted, wanting her to be strong. With the new role she had, she was going to need to be strong. All those slayers who were now dependent on her. When she was finally done, she removed her fangs from his neck licking the fresh marks closed. She curled up against him and sighed in contentment. She was just about to drift off to sleep when she realized something. She bolted upright and looked at him, horror evident on her face.

“My soul! I don’t have a soul!” she wailed.

Ch. 31: A Soul For Me?
 

“My soul! I don’t have a soul!” she wailed.

Spike tried to pull her back to him so that he could calm her down. But, Buffy was having none of that. She just scrambled out of his arms, tears flowing down her face and she dashed off towards the bathroom. He ran after her, but she beat him there; the door slammed shut and locked before he could stop her. He could easily break the lock, was half tempted to, but something held him back. What, he wasn’t quite sure. Maybe that subconscious guilt he was still feeling for having made her what she was in the first place. Instead, he put his hand flat against the door, as if somehow, he could reach through the wall that was between them and touch her.

Sighing, he put his back to the door and slid slowly to the floor, leaning his head back against the closed door. Her anguished sobs tore at his unbeating heart. He needed to comfort her. He was her Sire, dammit. And, if she would have him, her Mate, too. He was supposed to take care of her. Very hard to do with a locked door between them.

“Buffy, please, luv. Stop crying,” He banged his head softly against the door, tormented as he listened to her weep.

“Please stop…” he mumbled brokenly, her tears a torture worse than anything Angelus could ever inflict upon him. She continued to cry, oblivious to his pleas.

“You have your soul, baby. It never left this room,” he finally whispered some time later. Her crying abruptly stopped as she got wind of his barely uttered words, and he fell backwards as the bathroom door was practically yanked off the hinges inward.

“Really?” she asked in a small child-like voice, looking down at his sprawled body on the bathroom floor.

“Yes, luv,” he said as he looked up at her. Her smile was blinding. She was so happy that Spike just smiled back at her, grateful she was no longer crying. He felt so bloody helpless when she cried.

Squealing, she launched herself at his prone form, eliciting a grunt from Spike as her naked body landed on top of his own. Buffy began placing quick pecks all over his face and neck, grateful at this good news.

“Buffy¼pet¼” Spike tried to get out. “Floor¼hard¼go… bed.” She took advantage of his open mouth and slipped her tongue inside to duel with his. Her playfulness gave way as passion flared from their heated kisses. At that point, Spike could have cared less where they were.

Buffy could feel his cock hardening against her stomach, as she lay flush against his body. Breaking their kiss, she leaned up away from his chest. With her breasts now exposed, Spike reached up and enveloped them with his hands, using his thumb to rub back and forth across her hardening nipples. She shifted forward so that the curls covering her sex could glide up and down along the length of his cock, making it wet from her secretions. At the feel of her nether lips brushing along his length he groaned, gently squeezing her breasts in reaction. Her answering moan had him sitting up, taking one of her pert nipples in his mouth, his tongue laving it to an even harder point. Her arms wrapped around his neck to hold him close while his mouth paid homage to her breast. When Spike felt that it was tended to properly, he released her pert nipple and proceeded to run his tongue down the valley between her breasts before his mouth settled on the other one, showing it the same loving attention.

Shifting to her knees, she reached down with one hand and wrapped it around his length, causing Spike to groan around the nipple in his mouth. She slowly pumped him from base to head a few times producing a few drops of precum. She used her thumb to smooth the drop over the head. Then, she guided his cock to her entrance, rubbing it up and down the slit, coating the head with her juices. Positioning him over her opening, she slid slowly down his length, enveloping him. Her actions caused Spike to release the nipple he was tending to groan out her name. Pushing him to lay back on the floor, she began to slowly ride him – using her knees as leverage to raise her hips so that only the head of his cock remained inside before lowering herself once more. His face was a picture of absolute ecstasy: head thrown back, the corded muscles in his neck taut, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his mouth open – as if he wanted to say something but can’t quite get the words out.

The slow pace was starting to drive Buffy crazy. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she proceeded to ride him hard. She bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming her pleasure. Her butt slapping his bare thighs the only sound as they lay half in, half out of the bathroom. Spike could feel his balls starting to tighten and knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, so he took one of his hands from where it was gripping her hips as she rode him and moved it to her clit. He used his thumb to slowly rub circles over that sensitive bundle of nerves. Buffy released her bottom lip to moan at the touch. Soon, the pleasure became unbearable and she hollered Spike’s name as her orgasm overtook her. As her inner muscles clamped down on his cock, he tumbled into oblivion after her. Spent, Buffy collapsed on top of him practically purring her contentment.

~*~*~*~*~

“Spiiiiiiike!”

The bellow was heard downstairs by all.

The occupants of the office looked up from what they were doing to stare at one another. The blush staining Giles’ face even encompassed his ears. He whipped off his glasses to give them a quick no-nonsense scrubbing with his handkerchief before resettling his glasses on his face, burying his nose back in the book he was reading. Angel gave a silent, wistful sigh then went back to the drawing he was making of his new family, drawn completely from memory. Fred and Wesley looked at one another; Fred blushing a becoming shade of red, Wesley replying with a shy smile and a shoulder shrug as if to say: “Lovers.” Then, they both returned to their work.

The occupants in the other room were far luckier. They were all fast asleep.

~*~*~*~*~

“I really have my soul,” Buffy asked in a child-like voice awhile later.

“Tell me¼do you feel like eating Dawn, or Giles, or Willow? They’re all downstairs completely vulnerable. You could have ‘em drained before they knew it.”

“Ewwwww¼ Spike,” she said as she leaned up off of his chest to look down at him. “Gross.”

“Well¼you asked, pet. Do you think if you didn’t have a soul you would care? Shoot, they’d probably be your first meal.”

“But, how? Did Willow do that spell with that orb thingy? What’s it called?” Then another realization dawned on her. “Oh God, do I have one of those happiness clauses. No wait. I can’t.” Spike just looked at her as she rambled on. He apparently didn’t need to participate in this conversation; she was doing just fine by herself. Then she paused.

“Can’t what, kitten?”

“I can’t have a happiness clause, silly.”

“Well, of course you don’t.”

“Smug much?” she asked, doing a good Spike imitation of the raised eyebrow.

“Huh?” Somewhere along the line he had lost the thread of this conversation.

“The happiness clause. I obviously don’t have one of those, or I would have lost my soul already.” The light bulb went off in his head and Spike realized what Buffy was referring to. A smile lit up his face producing an answering smile on Buffy’s. He had made her happy. A moment of pure happiness. He leaned up off the cold floor to give Buffy a hug, practically breaking her ribs in his enthusiasm.

“Thanks, luv. Although, that’s not exactly what I was referring to. Your soul never left this room. Shoot, probably didn’t even stray too far from your body. And, Willow’s magick had nothing to do with it.”

Now it was her turn to say, “Huh?”

“Maybe Giles can explain it better. And, although I had planned on keeping you looked up in here for the better part of a week, I think the others would like to see you.”

“A week! And they¼ and we¼” she broke off. If it were possible, her entire body would be beet red from embarrassment right now. Her mortification wore off quickly giving way to anxiety. She didn’t mind what she had become, but she had no idea how the others were going to react. She threw her arms around him, pulling him tightly to her. She was scared and needed him to reassure her.

“They’re gonna hate me, aren’t they?” She hated the quavering note to her voice, but she couldn’t remember a time when she was more nervous to see her friends and family.

“Oh, no, pet. They’re not gonna hate you. They love you. Now, me on the other hand¼”

She pushed back a little so that she could see his face. He gave her his trademark smirk, designed to fool all that he didn’t care. But, Buffy had heard the resignation in his tone. She didn’t know what to say. Her friends had never really cared for Spike. Even after he had saved them all, he was still a sore subject between them. But, this time around things were going to be different. If her friends couldn’t accept Spike, then they would have to go. It was time that he came first for a change. She gave him a quick kiss then stood up.

“Shower first. Then we can go see Giles.” She reached her hand down to help him up. He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“Shower only, Spike.”

“Whatever you say, pet.”

Needless to say, showering wasn’t the only thing they did. And, it was over an hour later before they finally made their way downstairs.

~*~*~*~*~

The closer they got to the office, the more sounds that Buffy could make out. Three heartbeats. Rustling papers. Low murmurs between Fred and Wesley. A pencil scratching back and forth across a piece of paper before it suddenly stopped. Angel. She could feel him. She was starting to get nervous and she slipped her hand into her Sire’s seeking his reassuring touch. He gave her a quick squeeze as he laced his fingers through hers.

Spike used his free hand to open the office door before Buffy could change her mind. With his other hand still clasped in hers, he gave a quick tug and pulled her into the office. He shut the door behind them, blocking her means of escape and getting the attention of the other occupants in the room. Everyone, that is, except Angel; he had sensed them outside and already had his eyes trained on the door. Spike released her hand and leaned back against the door with his arms crossed over his chest; Buffy stood about a foot in front of him staring at Giles. With her back to him, Buffy wasn’t able to see the glare he directed at everyone - daring them to hurt her feelings.

Giles bounded to his feet when he realized who had stepped into the office. He whipped his glasses off his face, getting ready to wipe them clean, as was his nervous habit. With a shake of his head, he tossed them on the desk. He glanced at the blond vampire before rolling his eyes at Spike’s rude glare; Spike just quirked his scarred eyebrow in return. But, Spike was dead serious; he’d flay anyone alive that hurt his girl’s feelings regarding her new “status.”

Giles made his way around the front of his desk to stand before Buffy. His miracle slayer. Her outward appearance had changed a little. She was a bit paler than before. Although, compared to the last few days, her appearance was a major improvement. Plus there was the whole lack of breathing thing that took some getting used to. But, as he pulled her to him for a hug, he knew that is was still the same Buffy on the inside. Even if she was now cool to the touch.

Buffy was nervous as she felt four pair of eyes on her as Spike pushed her in front of him. She’d have to remember to have a word with him about that. But, when she looked at her former Watcher and could see nothing but awe and acceptance, she finally began to relax. When he embraced her, she released the completely unnecessary breath that she had been holding. Apparently, Spike had been right, though she’d never tell him that.

After a time, Giles stepped back and held Buffy at arms length. She visibly sensed him going into “Watcher” mode and was grateful. Now maybe she could find out what exactly the hell was going on. Giles walked back around behind the desk, gesturing for Buffy to take one of the seats facing the desk. He grabbed his glasses from the desk and settled them back on his nose. Spike, seeing Buffy move to sit at one of the two chairs in front of the desk, realized that she wasn’t going to bolt. Pushing himself away from the door, he crossed the room to where Buffy was sitting. She made no protest as he pulled her up out of the seat so that he could sit down and pull her down on his lap. Giles just rolled his eyes at the move.

Buffy was actually grateful for Spike’s seeming highhandedness. Her lingering anxiety hadn’t abated, and she needed him near. His touch calmed her. Somehow, instinctively, he seemed to know that. And, by his “Big Bad” posturing, he was able to provide what she needed without making her appear weak before the others by asking for it. Sighing, she leaned back into his chest as his arms came around her waist to hold her in place.

“So, Giles, you want to tell me what in the world is going on?” Buffy asked in her usual, take-charge manner.

Ch. 32: Connections
 

“So, Giles, you want to tell me what in the world is going on?” Buffy asked in her usual, take-charge manner.

Spike cast a broad grin the watcher’s way, grateful that he was the one that would be explaining things to Buffy.

“Er, yes, well…” Giles stuttered. He was still somewhat in shock at seeing Buffy before him. Oh he knew that she was undead – well, he guessed she was anyway, with the whole lack of breathing and the pale skin – but, he wasn’t quite sure what she was really. That snippet of prophecy had alluded to two demons inhabiting her body. He could only assume one was the demon that helped make the First Slayer, while the other was the vampire demon.

“Quite frankly, we’re trying to figure this out as we go, Buffy,” he replied to her question. “We do know a little bit about your would-be assassin.” Spike cocked an eyebrow at that; in his mind there was no ‘would-be’ about it. Giles ignored him and pressed on, telling Buffy about what the demon had hoped to accomplish and why. He went on to explain that the Draelorn demons were apparently trying to re-enter Earth’s dimension and that the event was supposed to take place next week.

“We have to assume that they’re going to attempt to re-enter through the portal. They have no way of knowing that their attack was unsuccessful and that the slayer line is secure. That all of them are still here. We’ve got a little time yet to do research to see how we can get the portal closed preventing them from entering our dimension for another two thousand years. Angel has given us some information to get us started…” he trailed off.

“So, this thing tried to kill me because it knew I’m somehow linked to the other slayers now?”

“Exactly. Killing you would wipe their slayer strength away – possibly more – and would leave just Faith to handle the influx of demons. Much better odds for them than currently stands right now.” Buff nodded at this. She was starting to get sleepy again, her strength having not returned completely. With a muffled yawn, she leaned her head into the crook of Spike’s shoulder.

“Ok, so that tells me why that demon went after me. Have you got any info on why I’m still here? And, apparently with my soul intact with no mojo from Wills.”

Giles was somewhat shocked at her calm acceptance of her new “status.” He knew that she had desperately loathed the idea that the creatures she had been duty-bound to stake may one day turn her. It was one of the risks she ran being a slayer. He wasn’t quite sure, but she seemed almost happy – certainly happier than she’s been since she’d been called to be the Chosen One. Maybe that second slayer dream she had had mentally prepared her for her new role she was now destined to lead.

Clearing his throat, he attempted to answer her. “Ummm… exactly why, er no, I don’t.” At her confused look, he struggled to continue. “See, all I…we…had to go by was the prophecy delivered to Wesley and the subsequent one I found while researching the translation to the original.” Quickly he read both to her. “So, you see, according to the prophecy, you were never in danger of losing your soul. And I have to say, the sight I beheld earlier was nothing short of a miracle.” The other occupants of the room murmured their assent. Just thinking about Buffy as she lay in bed glowing had Giles starting to tear up, his awe clearly evident. “We…uh…just weren’t sure exactly how that was going to be accomplished,” he pushed on, trying to get back on track.

“We’re still not sure exactly what you are, Buffy. We do know that you are possessed of not one, but two demons. The rest…” he shrugged his shoulders, his voice trailing off. “We can only hope to learn as we go. We’ll need your help for that. Spike’s as well. Even Angel can assist us, put in his “two cents.” Anything that feels off, any sensation you don’t recognize as normal, you need to let someone know. We have no way of knowing exactly what may happen. I’m sorry about that, Buffy.”

“That’s ok, Giles,” she said, yawning into Spike’s neck. Seeing how tired Buffy was, Spike stood with Buffy in his arms, putting an end to the conversation. She needed her rest if she was to regain her strength. The only reason he came down here in the first place with her was to ease her mind about her soul, to try and give her some answers. Now it was time to head back to the room for some more blood and then rest.

“Right then, we’re off. Someone needs her rest. How ‘bout we meet back down here later so we can discuss what to do about those Draelorn demons. Sound like a plan, Giles?” Giles just nodded, his thumb and forefinger rubbing back and forth over his eyes wearily.

Noticing this, Spike added, “Besides, when was the last time you guys slept? No offense, but you all look like the walking dead. ‘Cept Peaches, of course, since he already is.” With a grin tossed his Grand-Sire’s way, he made his way to the office door. The others soon followed in his wake, exhaustion clearly evident as they rose from their chairs. When they heard Spike’s voice raised in concern, a burst of adrenaline had them all rushing to the door to find out what was wrong.

~*~*~*~*~

“You can put me down, you know. I am capable of walking,” she muttered to Spike, once they were outside.

“I like holdin’ ya, pet,” he replied with a wink. She just settled back in his arms, getting comfortable, figuring it was useless to argue. As he made his way across the foyer Buffy suddenly stiffened in his arms. She could feel her body start to tingle, and unbeknownst to her, her eyes flashed yellow. Before he could stop her, she scrambled out of Spike’s arms and rushed off towards the living room. Spike took off after her.

“What is it, pet?” he hollered as he ran after her. She didn’t hear him, intent on reaching the living room as quickly as possible. When she reached the entryway, she pulled up short, scanning the sleeping occupants for sign of trouble. Dawn and Willow were stretched out on the couch, their heads at opposite ends, fast asleep. The ten young slayers were scattered haphazardly on the floor, buried in sleeping bags or under quilts. On her first pass, Buffy noticed nothing amiss. Then she heard it – a soft moan coming from Angelina. Zeroing in her yellow-tinged gaze on the girl, she quickly made her way over to her.

Spike had managed to catch up to Buffy just as she stopped in the entryway of the living room. He watched as her gaze scanned the occupants of the room before honing in on one of the young slayers. He felt Angel and the others coming rushing up behind him and he raised his hand in the air to keep them out of the room. They all watched in silence as Buffy knelt down by the girl, her hand hovering above the girl’s head. She was obviously having a dream, and a bad one at that, if her facial features were any indication. Then they noticed as Buffy ran her hand over the girl’s hair, pushing it off of her face; she used her other hand to cradle one of Angelina’s hands in hers. Buffy’s eyes closed as if she were concentrating deeply and the others watched amazed as the girl ceased her struggles, her dream apparently no longer affecting her. Buffy ran her hand through the girl’s hair one more time then slowly released the hand she had been holding, placing it gently by the girl’s side. Her eyes opened and she stood up to meet the gaze of Spike, Angel, Giles, Wesley, and Fred. Concern was evident on all their faces.

“Uh… she was having a slayer dream,” she spoke softly to the others, trying not to wake the girls as she attempted to explain.

Giles was about to comment, but Buffy shook her head at him, signaling for him to wait until they had left the room. No need to wake the girls up with their conversation.

“How did you know?” Giles asked as they made their way back into the foyer.

“I’m not sure exactly. All of a sudden I just started really tingling, and just…ya’ know…knew. I can feel them all in there, actually. More so, Angelina, because she was, um, distressed?”

“Interesting… wait, you said you could feel them?” Giles questioned. “All of them?”

“Uh huh.” She wasn’t sure if she should mention that there were vague feelings of other slayers scattered throughout Rome. Maybe later, once she got used to it. She had ignored that subconscious tingling she had been feeling, thinking it was somehow related to the vampire demon now inhabiting her body realizing that slayers were about. But, the more she thought about it; she realized it was the slayer demon that was feeling the connection to the other slayers.

Giles looked like he wanted to rush back to the office to get his Watcher’s diary so he could record this for posterity. ‘Talk about feeling like a freak,’ Buffy thought. Nervous with all the eyes on her, she looked around at the group. The others weren’t looking at her like she was a freak. Sure, they were curious, but not to the point where they’d want to stick her under a microscope and study her. Thoughts of the Initiative flitted briefly through her mind before she brushed them aside. She’d like to see them even try to get their hands on her. The evil grin that came suddenly to her face had the others looking at her questioningly. She bit her bottom lip to hide her smile, but her eyes still gleamed. She caught Spike’s stare and gave him a slight shake of her head. She’d tell him what she was thinking about once they were back in their room.

The newness of her recently arisen status was starting to take its toll on her body and she let out a huge, fanged yawn. Both Spike and Angel watched her amused. She reminded Spike of a newborn lioness with that yawn. Telling the others to get some sleep and that they would meet back downstairs in a few hours, Spike ushered Buffy upstairs to bed.

Ch. 33: Easing Fears
 

Since Spike’s idea of keeping Buffy locked up for a week in her bedroom had backfired, there was no point in keeping the cooler in the bedroom to hold their blood. ‘May as well put it back in the freezer.’ So, while Buffy lingered in the shower, Spike got out, threw on some clothes and grabbed the cooler to take back downstairs.

He walked into the kitchen, the cooler held before him, and stopped dead in his tracks. He knew she was in there, debated on turning around, but figured now was as good a time as any to get this over with. Resuming his path to the refrigerator, he glanced at Dawn while she sat at the table sipping her coffee. Her head was down, refusing to acknowledge his presence. It hurt, her rejection of him. Hanging his head, he set the cooler on the floor and opened the freezer door. He leaned down to open the lid of the cooler and began grabbing stacks of blood from the container to lightly toss them inside the freezer. The sound of blood bags smacking against one other as they landed inside the freezer, the only thing breaking the tension-filled silence of the room.

Once all the bags were in the freezer, Spike shut the door. He could hear Dawn’s heartbeat pounding in her chest. Knew that she was aware of him being there. Then he smelt it, that slight tinge of fear. And rather than dumping the ice out of the cooler like he planned he turned and strode swiftly from the room. Her hate he could deal with, her fear was something else. Disgust at himself had his soul practically weeping at the pain he had caused her, and Spike needed to get as far away from Dawn as possible to lick his wounds. By saving one sister, he had inevitably lost the other.

Dawn knew that refusing to acknowledge his presence as he came into the kitchen probably hurt the blond vampire that she viewed as a big brother. She just didn’t know quite what to feel right now. On the one hand she was thankful. Her sister was alive, well undead I guess was the correct term now, because of Spike. And, if someone had to do it, she was glad that it was Spike. Where the confusion came in was where it left her. Buffy now had this guardian status, and Dawn just didn’t know where she was going to fit in anymore. If she was going to be left alone. That thought had her quaking with fear. When she saw Spike practically run from the kitchen, she knew she had to talk to him. He would listen to her, help her deal with all these feelings she was having. That decision made, she leapt up from the table and started after him.

Spike was lost in his own haze of pain at Dawn’s rejection. His abject misery so great as he made his way to the living room that he didn’t hear as Dawn came rushing up behind him.

“Spike…” Dawn choked out. Tears were rushing down her face as she raced after him in the foyer. He didn’t acknowledge her, just kept on walking towards the living room. “Spike…” she cried louder.

Her voice finally broke through his anguished thoughts just before she reached him. He heard his name called, then sobbing. He jerked around in astonishment to see Dawn flying towards him, tears flowing down her face as she openly cried. She continued to rush towards him and he just managed to open his arms before she ran headlong into his embrace. His own eyes started to mist seeing her in such pain.

“Awww.. ‘Bit. Don’t. It’s ok,” Spike attempted to soothe. His softly spoken words just seemed to make her cry more and sag weakly against him. Rather than stand out in the open foyer where anyone could come along, he scooped her up and strode quickly to the living room, giving them some modicum of privacy. Dawn didn’t even notice, too far gone in her misery to care. He settled himself in a lounge chair and held her as she cried. He gave up trying to ask her what was wrong and just let her cry first. Maybe once she stopped then he’d be able to find out what was wrong. Unfortunately, he already knew what was wrong. He’d killed her sister, made her a vampire, even if it was to save her life. Sighing, he just settled her more comfortably on his lap, holding her as one would a frightened child.

Eventually, her fervent sobbing lessened then finally abated. Spike just waited for her to start talking. The words that came out of her mouth had him gripping her upper arms to that he could pull her up to face him.

“I’m gonna be all alone now, aren’t I?”

“Oh Niblet, of course not. Your sister’s not going anywhere and neither am I,” he vowed. “Whatever gave you that idea?” He pulled her back towards him once more, his hand running down her hair in a soothing gesture as she spoke.

“It just…now she’s a vampire, guardian, whatever…she’s gonna go away, be like that First Slayer, live in some cave or something,” she knew it sounded ridiculous as the words came out of her mouth, but she rushed on. “And you’re like, her Sire now, right? So, that means you’re gonna go with her, wherever she goes and I’m gonna be all alone again.”

~*~*~*~*~

“…her Sire now, right? So, that means you’re gonna go with her, wherever she goes and I’m gonna be all alone again.” The forlorn words drifted to Buffy as she made her way down the stairs had her increasing her pace and rushing towards the living room. She came to an abrupt stop as she saw Spike sitting in a chair, Dawn cradled like a small child in his lap as he attempted to soothe her fears. He looked up, his helpless gaze locking with her own. He shrugged his shoulders slightly as if to say, “I can’t even begin to figure out where she came up with this idea.”

“Dawnie?” Buffy called out. On hearing her sister’s voice for the first time since she had “died,” Dawn’s head snapped up off of Spike’s shoulder. Scrambling off of his lap, she raced around the couch and into her waiting sister’s arms.

“Shhh…. It’s ok, Dawnie,” Buffy soothed. “What made you think I was going somewhere? You know I’d never leave you, right?” Dawn just held on tighter letting her sister’s words slowly sink in.

“Why don’t we go sit on the couch, ok?” Dawn nodded against her shoulder, then pulled away, allowing herself to be led to the couch. The two sisters curled up side-by-side on the couch, their arms wrapped around one another. Dawn’s words tripped over themselves as they tumbled from her lips. “You were dying… and Spike… so scared… didn’t want to be alone again… didn’t want you to die… pretty glow…” Throughout it all, Buffy just held her sister close, her own tears falling unchecked, as she ran her hand down her sister’s hair as Dawn sat curled beside her, her head on Buffy’s shoulder. Finally, Dawn calmed down and they just sat there in each other’s arms. Seeing that the two had finally seemed to calm somewhat, Spike got up from his chair and came to sit down next to them on the other side of Dawn.

“’Bit, we’re family. And families stick together no matter what,” he gave the explanation as if he couldn’t believe that he’d, she’d – no, they’d – ever abandon Dawn. As if. He snorted to himself at his Buffy-ism. “Doesn’t matter that Buffy is now this “Guardian” slayer or some such, she’s still your sister first. Got that?”

Buffy looked over her sister’s head to look at Spike, her eyes conveying without words how grateful she was for him being here, explaining things, reassuring Dawn. Spike just smiled back at her. He broke off eye contact and looked towards the entryway, Buffy’s gaze following his own. Willow. She was coming towards them. Spike stood up so that Red wouldn’t think she was intruding on a private moment and went back to his chair and plopped down. Buffy eased Dawn up off her shoulder, brushing her hair out of her face as she did so. She leaned over and gave her sister a quick kiss on the cheek and a slight smile. Then she turned towards the entryway once more as Willow came into view.

Both friends gazed at one another in shock. It had been a long while since they had physically seen one another. There had been that brief moment when Willow came through to add the protection spell to this place. But, before that, it had been since Buffy and Dawn had left on their summer holiday tour of Europe. The awkward silence continued as Buffy stood up next to the couch. In her anxiety, Buffy’s eyes momentarily flashed yellow, causing Willow to gasp in surprise. Thinking her friend couldn’t accept what she had now become, her face fell and she looked away from her friend, instinctively seeking the comforting gaze of her Sire.

Spike surged to his feet with a growl, concern for Buffy had him snapping, “Bloody hell, Red, if this is the way you’re gonna react around Buffy, you may as well leave now!” He quickly reached the slayer, pulling her into his comforting embrace as he glared at the witch. Willow gazed at him with first shock, then horror, as she realized what she inadvertently had done.

“Oh, no… Buffy…I didn’t mean…” she stammered. Quickly, she walked into the room and started to make her way towards her friend. Spike, seeing the apologetic look on Red’s face, disentangled Buffy arms from around him and turned her around to face her friend.

“Buffy…” she started but was cut off.

Buffy was starting to get mad. And, in her hurt, she lashed out. Her vampire features fell into place and she spoke furiously at Willow, “Look at me. Look at my face. This is what I am now. What I’ll always be. If you can’t deal with that then maybe you should just leave…” she broke off then continued in a smaller voice, “I just can’t deal with the thought that what I am now might disgust you. Better for you to leave before my feelings get hurt any more than they are.”

“Oh Buffy… I’m sorry. I’m not disgusted. Honest.” Slowly, Willow towards her friend, stopping once she was standing directly in front of her. Her hand reached out hesitantly to trace the ridges on her brow. Buffy watched her friend’s eyes carefully, waiting to see if they filled with disgust. What she saw was acceptance, and she breathed an unnecessary sigh of relief. Reassured, she shook off the demonic features, her human mask once more settling into place. Now that their awkward moment was over, the two friends embraced both with tears flowing freely down their face. Spike just snorted and resumed his place in the chair, watching the three girls as they settled themselves on the couch – Buffy settled between Willow and Dawn – and launched into conversation.

Spike vaguely listened as the girls chatted amongst themselves, catching up on old gossip. His ears perked when he heard Buffy ask about Xander, but Willow just shook her head and said that she hadn’t seen him since they had all split company at the beginning of the summer and only talked to him via email. Buffy just sighed at that and nodded. They shook off their morose thoughts and turned their conversation to lighter subjects.

After awhile, Spike sensed the other slayers coming down the stairs slowly making their way towards the living room. He briefly noticed Buffy’s eyes flash yellow but thought nothing of it. When her human mask briefly slipped from her face, his casual pose in the chair abruptly faded. Sitting on the edge of the chair, he continued to watch Buffy. Both Dawn and Willow had noticed the slight change come over her features but thought nothing of it. Then the other slayers arrived at the room and made their way inside.

Spike broke through the growl that emanated from Buffy.

“Willow. Dawn. Get up now and move away from Buffy.” The just looked at him, confused. “Do it now,” he growled. Started, both girls did as he request, quickly getting to their feet and moving away from the couch. Spike watched as Buffy’s face shifted once more, this time her demonic mask staying in place. Spike uncoiled from the chair as Buffy stood up. Her gaze swiveled to the entryway noticing the young slayers standing posed at the entrance. Another growl erupted from Buffy; an answering one came from Spike. Buffy whipped back around to glance at her Sire.

She cocked her head to the side, silently regarding him. He cocked his scarred eyebrow at her and waited. She turned to the slayers once more and ran her tongue along her lips. Spike watched as she coiled her muscles, prepared to launch herself at them.

“No!” his Sire-voice rang throughout the room. Launching himself at her, Spike tackled her to the ground before she could go after the girls. He pinned her beneath him as she growled up at him.

“Everybody out. And someone find Giles. Now!” he yelled when he could hear no one moving, his eyes never leaving Buffy.

There was a rush of movement and then the two were left alone in the living room.

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