Title: The End
Author: Paradox761
Email: Paradox761@mail.com
Website: members.tripod.com/~Paradox761
Disclaimer: Joss and co. own all things Buffy, no copyright infringement is intended. So please don’t sue, I don’t have any money anyway.
Summary: Post “Wrecked”, alt ending for season 6, and the series. B/W/X-friendship, Slight B/X and Ay/X.
Spoilers: “Wrecked”, and most of season 6.
Author’s note: For the purposes of characterization, in this story Spike did not attempt to rape Buffy. I am NOT a Spike fan, and this is NOT a fix-it fic. But I started this story before that happened, and I find it hard to write Spike as a sympathetic character after that scene. So to continue with the story as planned, that scene didn’t happen. Also, this story takes place before the Angel episode “Sleep Tight”. Also, I started this story after “Wrecked”, as I was starting to become unhappy with the way season six was turning out. I must say though, I couldn’t be happier with the way it ended. I could never top “Grave”, nor would I try. So I’ve gone in a different direction with this. But I did paraphrase some lines from Xander’s speech.
Dedication: To Jordan and Jessica, my angels. May they rest in peace.
Special thanks to: Wayne, Rob Clark, Ghostrider, Ozmandayus, Maggie C., Furious George, Bill, Calen, Chorlton, John, Wicked Raygun, DaBear, Cobra, Jeconais, Nathan Postmark, David, Drake Roberts, Angelus, Queen Boadicea, Scott, Malaskor, and The Crowe for the feedback and the encouragement with this story. I really appreciate it.

(1/12)

Willow paced back and forth in her lavishly decorated bedroom, her eyes black with concentration. She was casually arcing red colored magic between her fingertips as she thought. Every attempt she made to increase her power base had failed because of them. They were jealous, that’s what it was, of how powerful she had become. So they tried to take it away from her, tell her that it was dangerous. What did they know about magic? Nothing! Who were they to tell her that she was out of control? Without her, they would be nothing. She had been the backbone of the group, the one who did all the difficult work. All Buffy had to do was kill things. They didn’t know how difficult magic was, how much time it had taken her to grow as powerful as she had. How dare they try to take it away from her now, after all the work she had put into it.

But no, that wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to drive her away, to turn everyone against her. They couldn’t just leave her in peace. Every artifact she tried to obtain to increase her power, they destroyed it. Every demon she summoned, they killed it. Every spell she cast, they broke it. At every step they were there to foil her plans.

“AAAAHHHHH!” Willow yelled in anger. Her hands, which were glowing completely red with magic at this point, shot out. The magic struck the lamp by her bed, shattering it into a million pieces and leaving a hole in the wall behind it.

Willow looked at the shatter lamp, her breathing ragged, her eyes still black. She willed herself to calm down and think. Outbursts like that weren’t going to solve anything. Her eyes returned to their normal green, as she snapped her fingers. A wisp on green magic shot out, causing the lamp to gather itself back up, returning to it’s original position on the nightstand, as well as fixing the hole in the wall.

“Calm down, Sweetie,” the blonde lying in her bed said. “Why don’t you come to bed, I’ll make it all better,” she cooed, pulling the covers back to reveal the rather skimpy negligee she was wearing.

“Not now Tara, I have to think,” Willow said, going back to her pacing. “I haven’t been going about this the right way. Maybe I’ve made a mistake.”

“Impossible, you don’t make mistakes Willow. You’re as smart as they come,” Tara said.

“I’ve let them get away with things that I never would have had they been anyone else. But I couldn’t ignore that they were my friends at one point. I was still holding out hope that I could bring them around to my point of view, maybe even join forces again. But that won’t ever be possible again, I have to face that. I have to start treating them as what they are.” She paused. “My enemies. I can’t let them interfere any more, it’s time to end this.” Willow stopped pacing and headed for the door of her bedroom. “Get dressed,” she told Tara.

Tara pouted. “Ooh, I wanted you to come to bed, so we could…you know,” she said, smiling coyly.

“Christ, Tara! It’s five o’clock in the afternoon, we have work to do! Now do what I told you!” Willow said as she stormed out of the room.

Tara didn’t bat an eyelash. “Yes, Willow,” she said, standing up and heading for the dresser.

Willow sauntered down the stairs of the remodeled mansion. It made the perfect base of operations and new home once Buffy decided that she wasn’t welcome in hers anymore. It was large enough to keep all of her minions there, but still homey enough for her to be comfortable. At least, after a little magical redecorating by her and Amy it was. And her hacker skills had proved useful in making sure that the property and building were now legally hers.

As Willow stepped into the living room she was struck, and not for the first time, by how much the decor resembled Glory’s apartment. ‘Well,’ she thought, ‘She may have been an evil hell goddess, but she did have taste.’

Rak was sitting on the couch, looking up at Amy who was floating a few feet above him. Another plus about the old mansion, Willow thought. High ceilings.

“Rak, put her down,” Willow said. “I’m going to need you both at your best tonight.”

“You got something planned, Strawberry?” he asked in his usual mellow tone. Ever since Willow had surpassed the warlock in power, he had taken to hanging around her, grazing on her excess energy. Willow wouldn’t let him cast spells on her anymore, but her aura alone was enough to keep him charged for days. Not to mention his regular cliental, Amy included.

Willow nodded. “I think it’s time to take the fight to my former friends, and end their interference in my life once and for all.”

Rak smiled. “About time,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to cast on a slayer.”

“Well, you just might get your chance. Where is the trio?”

“Same place they always are,” Rak said. “Playing with their toys like good children.”

Willow sighed and made her way to the dining room. Sure enough, that’s where she found Jonathan and Andrew, sitting at the formal dining table, in front of them a plastic model of the Millennium Falcon. They were arguing about which had the cooler ships, the original trilogy or the prequels. She let out a growl of frustration and slammed her fist down on the table, through the model, causing both men to jump.

“Here sit two of the most brilliant minds in this town when it comes to magic and demonology, and this is how you choose to spend your leisure time. Building models and arguing about science fiction!”

“Sorry, Mistress.”

“Sorry, Mistress.”

Willow let out a sigh. While it was true that the pair in front of her could be incredibly annoying, it was also true that they were quite useful. Jonathan had researched most of the magic talismans and rituals that Willow had used to increase her power, and Andrew had summoned most of the demons that Willow had used for the same.

“I want you two to get ready. Gather all the gadgets and talismans and demon-whistles that you have in your bag of tricks. We’re going to take the fight to the slayer, tonight.”

“The slayer? Tonight?” Andrew stammered nervously.

“Did I stutter?” Willow asked around clenched teeth.

“No, Mistress,” Andrew answered. “We’ll get ready right away.”

“Good. And I wouldn’t be so nervous if I were you. We’ve got the magic, the technology, the numbers. The only one who should be nervous right now…is the slayer.”

“Yes, Mistress,” They both chorused.

“Where’s Warren?”

“He’s in his lab,” Jonathan answered.

“Good. If you see Tara on your way upstairs, send her there,” she said, heading for the basement door that led to Warren’s lab.

“Yes, Mistress,” Jonathan said. “Oh, and um, Mistress?”

Willow didn’t even turn around, she just waved her arm backward and the broken model on the table rejoined itself. Jonathan and Andrew smiled. “Thank you, Mistress,” They chorused. Andrew grabbed the model and they both headed upstairs to get ready.

Willow descended the stairs into Warren’s makeshift laboratory. To the untrained eye it looked like a mess. There was a desk coved with computer print outs at one end, with a bookshelf behind it filled with technical manuals and specs. A counter, with a computer monitor at one end and several other large pieces of equipment that Willow didn’t immediately recognized ran the length of the far wall. The entire room was strewn with pieces of electronics and half-finished projects. Warren was sitting at the workbench in the middle of the room, a magnifying visor over his eyes, soldering a piece of circuitry. But Willow knew that clutter was just a sign of genius, and Warren was certainly that. A brilliant technical mind, an expert in robotics, and a knowledge of computers that rivaled her own. She had had first hand experience with his expertise, when she reprogrammed the Buffy-bot. It was from that that she knew she wanted him on her side.

“Warren!” She shouted to get his attention when she realized that he hadn’t heard her come in.

He jumped at her voice, nearly burning himself with the soldering iron he was holding. “What!” he asked harshly. Willow glared at him. “I mean, what can I do for you Willow?” he amended. Willow smiled. Warren wasn’t as subservient to her as his two friends were, he was the alpha of his little trio, but he knew to keep his tone respectful when he spoke to her.

“I’ve decided that it’s time to bring the fight to Buffy and the others. I’ve had enough of their meddling.”

Warren smiled. “Sounds like fun,” he said. “Tonight?”

Willow nodded. “Is the weapon ready?”

Warren turned around to the counter behind him. He pushed away some equipment and picked up a device that resembled something out of a Star Trek episode. “It’s ready. I just finished calibrating the diamond. My original calculations were right, it’s the perfect prism for focusing the beam.”

“Have you tested it yet?”

Warren shook his head. “I haven’t had a chance.”

“Well, you’ll get a chance tonight. What were you working on just now?”

“Some of the shavings I took from the diamond were large enough to make smaller prisms.” He lifted two cylindrical objects from the workbench to show Willow. “New toys. I only finished two, I was working on the third when you came in.”

Willow nodded. “Give them to Jonathan and Andrew, you take that,” she said, pointing to the weapon in his other hand. “If anything goes wrong with it, you’re the best person to fix it.” Warren nodded. “I want you to make a few modifications to the robot as well. Download the fighting subroutines you used for the Buffy-bot. If magic and technology should happen to fail, she’ll make a nice last resort. At the very least, she’ll be a distraction.”

“I didn’t build her frame for fighting, I built it for...well, you know. She might not be able to take the punishment.”

“You didn’t build April for fighting either, but as I recall, she held her own pretty well. Besides, if she gets destroyed, you’ll just have to build me another one.”

Warren let out a sigh as he thought about all the time and work it takes to build a robot as sophisticated as the one he had built for Willow. “Yes, of course,” he said, rather unenthusiastically.

It was then that the basement door opened and Tara came down the steps, dressed in a sweater and long skirt. “Hello Willow. Jonathan said that you wanted me to come down here.”

Willow turned from Tara to Warren without answering her. “I’ll leave you to your work then. Try to make it snappy, I’d like to surprise them on their normal patrol, so we only have a few hours. And get her some clothes she can fight in too.”

“Right,” Warren said. Willow nodded and headed up the stairs, Tara’s eyes on her the whole way. Warren cleared off his workbench. “Okay Tara-bot, hop up here. I just need to make a few modifications to your program.” Tara-bot was only programmed to obey two people. First and foremost, Willow. And secondly, her creator, Warren, so that he could make program modifications and repairs without having her ask Willow if it was okay to do every little thing he asked her.

“Okay,” Tara-bot said, hoping up on the bench.

Warren grabbed the cable to link the computer to Tara-bot and lifted the back of her sweater to get to her access panel. “I wonder if any of the clothes I have from the Buffy-bot will fit you,” he wondered to himself idly.




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