Buffy

The phone was ringing when I got home, but since I was all icky from sparring with my girls, I let it ring. Until I heard his voice on the machine. “’Ello, ladies, hope you’ve had a lovely day. Buffy…”

I tore across the apartment and managed to pick up the phone before he got any further. “Spike, I’m here.”

“Buffy, luv, thank God. Listen, I don’t have a lot of time. I just found out what we’re going up against. Well, I don’t know for sure, but I’ve got a bloody good idea…

"It’s going to be bad. Angel didn’t want me calling you, but I think we need reinforcements.” Spike’s voice sounded shaky, worse than I’d heard him in a long time. We’d developed a pattern of joking around a lot during our phone calls, but from the way he sounded I didn’t think it was a good idea to mention that he’d let a perfect Angel-bash pass by.

All right, I could do this. Sure, I could be objective about an apocalypse going down thousands of miles away, endangering two of the most important men in my life. Well, the only important undead men, one of whom was my first love and friend, the other my current lover…Panic, panicking now.

I took a deep breath and tried to relax the big ball of Ack! I was turning into. Think General Buffy, leading the charge, defeating the First Evil. Except, I wouldn’t be leading this time.

“Will, it’s okay. Well, it’s not, but I’ll help. Now, I need you to start from the beginning and tell me what’s going on. Exactly. In detail.”

So I listened to the story of why Angel agreed to take over the law firm from Hell, and his supposed involvement with the Order, and the Great Plan to defeat Wolfram & Hart for good. I wanted better explanations on a few things, but hey, no big. I listened to all of Spike’s concerns, and everything he had been working on to help out.

It was a good plan as harebrained schemes go; I’d lived through enough of those to know that it might work. Then again, there was a large might-not-work element involved. The more I listened, the more worried I got, the more I wanted to get to LA, ASAP. Sure, I’m not the only Slayer anymore, but Spike and Angel were…Well, they’re mine. My friends, my responsibility.

Spike was still rambling on in the background as I went through some of the old Sunnydale playbook in my head, trying to find the hole in Angel’s plan that I could plug quickly and without screwing up the plan as it stood.

“Willow!” I practically shout, interrupting Spike mid-rant. “Willow should be able to get to LA pretty quick; she’s in Rio. A little mojo couldn’t help but…well, help. I’ll call and fill her in.”

Silence. Well, either I managed to say something so incredibly stupid he’s trying not to laugh, or he’s seriously considering this. His response, when it finally came, was slow and thoughtful. "Is there anything going on in Watcher's Council World we can use to create a sort of cover story for her coming here?"

"Well..." I think about how to get Willow to LA on official business. "Ooh, I have one; Faith said there are more Slayers in LA, but she couldn't convince them to join up with us. Maybe Willow could take a crack at them. That way, if she does get them to listen to her, you might get some extra girl-power."

"I like the way you think, Slayer."

I smile. He never calls me that anymore, and even if it used to annoy the crap out of me, I still kinda missed it. "You know, that title applies to about 1100 women at last count; you're not making me feel very special here, guy."

He chuckles, that dark husky whisper of a laugh that makes my toes curl. "No matter how many super girls there are in the world, you'll always be my Slayer, luv."

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We say our goodbyes and plan to speak again in the morning. Well, morning my time, late night his time. If we were both watching American TV, I realized, he would be watching Letterman at the same time I watched the Today Show. Of course, the TV programs were a little different in Rome…

Shaking my rambling thoughts into some type of order, I shower and change quickly. I really didn't want to make this call; I don't think she knows about Spike. I mean, it's not enough that I'm asking her to run off and put her life in danger; she'll also have to deal with my…Vampires…

Willow’s had a rough year. After the defeat of the First, we all had high hopes for the future. And for the most part, it’s been great. If you don’t mind the bizarre hours, the hard work, constant danger, loneliness, and regrets. Okay, so my year hasn’t been a bucket of roses either. I look up at the big, beautiful flowers on my coffee table, their perfume filling the room. Okay, so maybe there are a few roses. They’ve been arriving twice a week since William left Rome, a dozen for me, a dozen for Dawn.

But Willow…Willow started out really well after we got to England. She knew people already, witchy friends all her own, and she had Kennedy at her side. In my heart of hearts, I envied her. It seemed like, out of all of us, Willow would come out of this weird new world of ours the best. Then she was helping Xander through Anya's death, and she and Kennedy started to fight.

They didn’t fight all the time, but enough that we noticed. Giles even suggested splitting them up; sending them to different places but close enough to visit. They refused the offer, Kennedy not-so-nicely. She and Giles are kind of not speaking right now; actually, I don’t believe he and Kennedy have spoken since she left for Brazil.

Willow was sure that it would be okay, that they would be able to work it out, or at least still work together. Then they started to fight about magic, and training, and other work related stuff in addition to the personal stuff. Her final breakup with Kennedy was very messy, and very recent. It seems wrong, somehow, to ask for her help on this now, when she’s hurting so badly. And Willow has done so much for me over the years…Well, she did try to end the world once, but that was… Over her last girlfriend. Welcome to my life; rock, meet hard place.

I really wish I could just pick up and go to LA myself; I feel like I need to be there for them, and it feels strange that the world's safety is threatened and I'm not on the front lines. Then I remember, that the front lines are bigger than me, now. There are 57 active Slayers from all over Europe, Asia, and the US in Rome right now, not to mention that my little sister is in college here, and the only other Watcher assigned to Rome at the moment is a very sweet Persian guy who's pushing 80 and lets the girls get away with murder.

Besides, Wolfram and Hart must know who I am. They'd probably just try to kill me, and make the whole thing more complicated.

So here I go, calling Willow. As Spike would say, bugger.

Willow:

Okay, so I've been sulking a bit; it's perfectly understandable, I would rather be anywhere but here right now. Rio is a beautiful city. Go Giles, for sending me here instead of someplace else. I loved England when I was there, but there's only so much rain I can take. It's not exactly like I was out touring the country, I was working really hard with the coven. Who's to say I would enjoy living in England as much as I like Brazil, anyway.

I’m loving life off a Hellmouth. I didn’t notice it when I was living with the coven in Bath, but it turns out the vamp/demon population really is very different in the rest of the world; for one there are noticeably fewer nasties, and a larger percentage of the demons are benign species. I have charts to prove it. There's a strong, steady base of magical power here, bred into generations of Brazilians.

I was tapped to base a Slayer school here because of all the magic, and the magical Slayers. Gretchen has this theory that, before Sunnydale, any potential with magical ability was disqualified from being called by the Powers. She's an older Watcher's Council member, who was doing research in Panama when the First demolished the HQ. I didn't realize it at first, but the magic drawn to Rio is primarily white, whereas Hellmouth magic is almost all of the dark type. Plus, you know, I spoke Spanish, which is closer to Portuguese than what anyone else spoke.

Kennedy and I moved to Rio De Janeiro with 8 Slayers about four months after we closed the Sunnydale Hellmouth. Now we have 28 girls and Gretchen Green, 30 Slayers if you count Gretchen and Kennedy. Turns out witchy Slayers are a bit different than the average sort, so we're trying to gather all of them in Rio. There were 1100 Slayers at last count, so we know we don't have all the Slayer-Witches identified yet, but we're lucky we've managed to convince so many Slayers to join the fight; we started out with the Scooby gang, minus, and a few post-potentials we barely knew; then we had to find any former Watchers and potentials who survived the First.

The work I do here is rewarding, but exhausting and stressful, and honestly I don't love it. I've never been so tired, even in Sunnydale when I was juggling a relationship and college and the odd looming apocalypse. Right now I'm also depressed, which doesn't really put the old spring in my step. Maybe I should make some brownies…

I've been working like a crazy person for almost a year, minus a break or two. My time off from work is taken up with planning magic lessons and trying to keep in touch with friends on four continents. Poor Xander; I tried to convince Giles not to separate us at first, but he thought Xander needed a fresh start. I miss him most of all, Xander, I mean.

Kennedy used to figure into the equation of how I spend my time, but not anymore. We broke up. Which is still hard to think, and even harder to say. I care about her a lot, she's sweet and funny and pretty, and lots of other stuff, too; like impulsive and reckless and unable to listen to reason.

She and I still work together, which is odd and uncomfortable, to say the least. She doesn't grasp the dangers of harnessing magicks, or understand why I'm very careful with the type of spells I practice and teach. The emphasis she places on weapons training and offensive fighting isn't something I can understand or approve of; it's almost like we're training two different types of Slayers with the same set of teachers. We've been fighting for months, but we do still care about one another, so it was hard.

I love Rio, but I hate it too. I love that I'm doing something to help all the girls whose lives I screwed up with that Slayer spell, and I'm really enjoying studying magic in more depth, and teaching others. I hate that my time is not my own, that I'm the one in charge, that I'm so far from my friends and what's left of my family. And I miss my girlfriend.

The Slayers who don't work spend most of their mornings training with Kennedy, which gives me a nice breather. I have breakfast with Gretchen and the other Slayers, then head back to my office to plan lessons and do other Kennedy-avoiding things. Gretchen and I work together on planning magic lessons, since Kennedy is pretty much barred from those conversations after she suggested teaching the girls how to resurrect people. Thank Goddess I don't have that spell anywhere she can find it; I swear she'd try to use it.

The roughest part of the day is classroom time. Gretchen, Kennedy and I divide the subjects and age groups; we have 19 Slayers between the ages of 11 and 18. For a great big chunk of the day she and I sit on opposite sides of the room and try to ignore one another without being angry in front of the girls. They don't need any more angst; their lives are crazy enough right now.

Slayer School, Brazil is in a remodeled warehouse in an industrial area of Rio De Janeiro. We picked this area because we're away from tourist traffic, and it's a high-density area for demonic activity, at least by non-Hellmouth standards.

Buffy interrupted Algebra when she called. I was excited, because we really don’t talk as much as we used to. Then I realized this was Buffy, who rarely calls me in the middle of the day. Well, the middle of the day in Brazil, which is…I don’t remember what time it is in Rome.

********

“What time is it there?” I asked, settling into my desk chair with the phone between my shoulder and ear as I searched for the World Clock bookmark on my browser.

Buffy sighed. She sounded funny, and in a very not-happy kind of way. “It’s 3:15…Shoot, I'm gonna be late for my afternoon training session. Listen, Wills, I need a favor.” Another deep sigh, and I knew for sure that something weird was going on. “Have you heard anything about how the gang in LA is doing?”

Uh oh. Andrew stopped by to see me on his way back to England after he left LA. I have no idea when he stopped being afraid of me, but I kinda wish he hadn't. Andrew's a pest. He said he needed to tell SOMEONE, despite being sworn to secrecy, and of course telling Xander that Spike was alive while Anya was not would have meant badness all around. Then again, how could I be sure she was talking about Spike? Maybe she was referring to some horrible new thing. “Not recently.” Good Willow, very calm, not entirely a lie.

Buffy was silent for a minute. “Um, Willow, don’t freak, okay, but…Willow, Spike’s alive. Well, undead, anyway. He’s in LA working with Angel.”

I could tell she was waiting for me to freak out, or start ranting about how bad this was. Because that’s what I do, right? I disapprove of Buffy and Spike. Except that I don’t, really. I mean, she was so upset after he…Dusted, I guess, since he was already dead. She obviously had feelings for him, and if him being back will make her happy, I’ll try to support that. “I knew that. Andrew told me.”

“You KNEW! And you didn’t TELL me?”

“I couldn’t! Spike swore Andrew to secrecy, and he was afraid that if he didn’t tell someone he would slip up and tell you, so he told me. And then I was sworn to secrecy.” I sighed, shaking my head, suddenly wishing that I was teaching math instead of talking to my best friend. Oh, the weirdness of my life. “I’m sorry Buffy, I really wanted to tell you, but…I mean you and Giles were all big with the ‘avoid Angel’ stuff…”

Buffy interrupted my next ramble before I even worked up a good head of steam. “Hey, Willow, sorry I yelled. Listen, actually…Um, I knew before you did. I’ve known he was back for months.”

Huh? “How did you find out?”

“Giles has a contact keeping tabs on Wolfram and Hart. Spike was spotted, then it was easy to get information from people about him. A few weeks ago he was in Rome with Angel…”

“WHAT?” Yes, I yelled really loudly at that point. I mean, if it was Angelus, or soulless Spike, or... “Are you okay? What happened?”

Buffy chuckled. “They came to rescue me from Marco. Evidently there was an issue of a threesome with Darla and Dru about a century ago, and they were worried about me. Oh, and Spike brought Dawn and I roses.”

I fell back in my chair. Giles and I had reservations about Buffy and The Immortal (like there was only one; sheesh). I’d talked to Buffy about him a while back, but she’d ignored me and continued dating him. Now here Buffy was making jokes about his sexual encounters with evil vampires, and sounding way too happy about getting flowers from Spike, and… "Buffy, did you just call Drusilla Dru?"

“Did I?” Buffy sounded a little wigged herself by that. “Sorry, probably a bad habit I picked up from Will. Listen, I know we have tons to talk about, but I need you to listen.”

Was it just me, or did Buffy just call Spike ‘Will’? And any favor involving the souled vamps, so not happiness inducing. But, despite her totally squiggy taste in men, I could hear the worry in Buffy’s voice; and after all, she is my best friend. “What do you need me to do?”

Buffy spent the next twenty minutes giving me all the info on Angel’s son, his management of Wolfram & Hart, his strange hiring decisions, and finally his plan to infiltrate Evil, Inc. from within.

“So, basically, that’s their plan. They’re going to kill off all the members of this Order thingy, and hopefully really hurt the Senior Partners. It’s not really a bad plan, but I want to give then some more juice. You know, even the odds a little. Illyria is unpredictable, and Wesley has a serious death wish right now, which means they’re a little low on muscle and strategy. Plus, love Angel and Spike, but not so much on the planning.” Buffy stopped to take a deep breath for the first time in what seemed like forever. “I was kinda hoping you could go to LA and help out. I mean, you have Kennedy and Gretchen there to cover for you, and I can’t really leave my Slayers unprotected with only Alvand here to watch them. You know what a softie he is.”

I couldn’t help but smile, thinking of Alvand. He was a great guy, and he had an inexhaustible knowledge of Middle Eastern demonology and Iranian history, but he was definitely a soft touch when it came to teenage girls. No wonder the old Council never gave him a Slayer.

Buffy continued to ramble. “Even if I could get away, the Senior Partners know who I am; I’d probably blow the whole operation by showing up. Oh, and Will and I thought of a cover story for you.”

Okay, the whole go to LA and help save the world thing, I was perfectly willing to do. I was happy Spike called Buffy for help, and that she’d called me; but Buffy had slipped into calling Spike William or Will for the entire conversation. I found that, more than anything she’d said so far, even the part where Angel and Darla procreated, that was weirding me out. “Buffy, I thought I was Will.”

Silence. Then, Buffy giggled. “I’m sorry, Willow. Wills. Would it help if I called you Red so we don’t get confused?” The giggling was turning into full-fledged chuckling. “I’m a dope, I shouldn’t be laughing, but it’s just so stupid. I mean, Spike and I had this big, wild affair thing going on; and yeah we were all screwed up at the time, with the avoidy and deny-y, but it’s odd that you’ve never heard me call him by his first name. I mean, you did remember that his name is William, right?”

Oookay. “Did you? Call him William? I mean, I guess I never thought you guys were all that close, even with the hot-monkey-love and all.” And I really didn’t want the mental picture that sentence gave me. I can appreciate that Spike is attractive, and I know Buffy is hot, even if she’s a little…Flat for my taste, but thinking about my friends having sex is just wrong. “I guess, I just thought that it was…And you really never seemed to like him or care about what he said, so…I’m confused, I guess, by you using his human name, and talking about him the way you have been.”

Buffy sighs again. “Wills, I’d really love to get into this with you, but we don’t have a lot of time; things in LA are going very quickly. Are you going to help or not?”

“Well, of course I’m going to help, duh…”

Before I could ask any more of the ten million questions I had about Buffy and Spike, I was interrupted yet again. “Great! You’re totally awesome, Wills! Now listen, the cover story is majorly important. There are four Slayers in LA who Faith couldn’t convince to talk to her. You’re going to meet up with them, and try to get them at least talking to the Council again. Hopefully, you can convince them to help out with the Wolfram & Hart thing. Oh, gosh, I’m sorry I’ve kept you on the phone so long; I know you were in the middle of classroom time. I’m going to fax you some stuff on the LA Slayers, then I’m gonna call Will…Spike and have him get your ticket.”

“Buffy, I can teleport to LA.” Dead silence, yet again. I know Buffy and Xander still worry about the magic thing, and Dawn and I haven’t been close the last couple of years because of it, but being here has helped me a lot, and I’m much more in touch with the earth’s forces than I’ve ever been. “Buffy, don’t sweat it, I can have Gretchen help me, it’ll be perfectly safe. So no worries about the ticket, or time wasted on a plane or anything. Just tell me how to get in touch with Spike.”

Buffy thinks a little more, and I want to remind her about trust and faith in humanity and stuff, but I just take a deep breath and wait on her decision. “Okay, Willow, that sounds like a plan. I’ll fax over your hotel reservation with the other stuff. Oh, and let me give you Spike’s cell phone number.”

I can’t help but laugh at that. We could barely get him to use the landline in Sunnydale. “Cell phone? When did Spike become Mr. Technology?”

Buffy joins my laughing. “Yeah, it’s weird, huh? He said that Fred was helping him with the computers and all the other technology stuff; well, before...” We both fall silent at the mention of Fred. I didn’t know her very well, and I’m pretty sure Buffy never met her, but being devoured from the inside by an ancient demon is no way to die. “Poor Fred.” Buffy sighs. “I wish I’d had the chance to meet her. I mean, William said Ilyria looks just like her, except for being kinda blue, but that her personality just isn’t there anymore. I spoke to her once, and she seemed really sweet; and she was friendly to Spike, which makes me like her, too. I wish I’d gotten the chance to talk to her again after Spike materialized at Wolfram & Hart. I would have liked to thank her for taking care of him.”

Wow. I mean; I’d had a clue even before today that their relationship was closer than I knew about. But Buffy wanted to thank another woman for being friendly to him…Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever had a relationship where I wouldn’t have been jealous that another woman was with my lover when I couldn’t be. I know we’re supposed to be wrapping this up, but I can’t help poking at that a bit. “You’re not jealous?”

“No.” Buffy sounds confused. “Why would I be jealous? I mean, even if Fred were still Fred, Spike’s mine. He didn’t pursue me for all these years just to fall for the next pretty thing that comes along. Look at how long he stayed with Dru, and that wasn’t the healthiest relationship in the world, even between un-souled vampire couples. Not that our relationship has been really healthy, but we’re working on it.”

I don’t understand how it happened, or when, but it’s suddenly clear to me in a way that it hadn’t been until now. Buffy loves Spike. Even after they haven’t seen each other in almost a year, after she thought he was dead and started dating someone else; despite his waiting so long to get in touch with her, and having had a close female friend. And the casual mention of his ex; obviously they’ve talked about this stuff. I’m impressed with Spike, and I hope he can keep impressing me once I see him and Buffy together. “You know, whenever I think my life has reached a new pinnacle of weirdness, there you are to top me with super-duper weirdness. Listen, I’m gonna go pack. I’ll be waiting for your fax.”

“Alright. Thanks again for doing this Willow, you’re totally my hero.” Buffy sounds giddy, which makes me smile. “Be safe, and call me if you need anything. Don’t forget to call Spike as soon as you get to the hotel.”

“Got it, Buff. Talk to you later.”

********

Two hours later, after yet another screaming match with Kennedy, quickly tossing my luggage together, and confirming the proper spell with Gretchen, I walk through the revolving doors at the Hilton in Downtown LA without anyone noticing I’d appeared out of nowhere. I’m directed up to my room only to discover that I have a behemoth suite with a bed almost as big as my room back home, and a great view except for the smog. I grab the info Buffy sent and Spike’s number out of my bag, and dump all of it on the coffee table before I head for the bedroom and unpack the rest of my stuff.

Deciding that I’m in a ‘no time like the present’ kinda mood, I head back for the living room/office area of my suite, and call Spike. Which I still think is all kinds of weird, but hey.

“Hello?” Wow, I didn’t expect him to pick up so fast. “Ellooo?” Now he sounds annoyed.

“Spike, hi.” I have no idea what to say. Dawn and Tara always knew what to say to Spike, they were both really friendly towards him, or at least Tara warmed up to him after a while. Everyone else had much more contact with him than me, I mean, other than those couple of times he needed my help, or when he tried to kill me to test the chip. I’ve rarely been alone with Spike, especially in those last few months after he was ensouled, and even though I’ve always felt kinda sympathetic towards him, it’ll be weird to work closely with him.

“Red!” Spike’s response is quiet, but he sounds almost happy to hear from me. “Glad you got in alright. Buffy was worried about that ruddy spell you were gonna do.”

“I told her not to worry, sheesh; I teach magic now, I think I know what I’m doing!” Well, when in doubt, just act naturally, I guess.

Spike chuckles, actually laughs without it being all evil taunting laughter. So weird. “Yeah, she’s a worrier. And she doesn’t listen.” He sounds so…Fond. What a day, I may never recover my perspective if things continue to be so strange. “Listen, Red, I have to meet up with Peaches and the crew for a bloody planning session. What say I take you to dinner later? Maybe you can get your Slayer girls together by tonight.”

Nope, no perspective in sight. “Sure, sounds good. You know where I’m staying, right?”

“Yah. I’ll call when I’m on my way, got the main number right here, just need your room number.”

I give him the number, and Spike promises to call a ‘bit before sunset’ to see if I’ve found the Slayers yet. Once we’re off the phone, and I adjust a bit to the bizzarro world I’m now living in, I start going over the info Buffy sent.

One of the interesting things we’ve learned in taking over the Council of Watchers is that many of the most promising potentials who weren’t called over the years became Watchers. In fact, almost every woman working for the Council had been a former potential.

The spell I cast to turn the potentials into real Slayers worked retroactively as well, even though we didn’t know that at the time, and almost all of the surviving female Watchers were now also Slayers. Most of the ones we located, like Gretchen, were eager to talk to Buffy and Faith about their powers, and to help set up schools and take on a few girls or women and help them out with training or lessons or whatever.

A few Watchers, and a few of the other older Slayers we’d located, had asked me to strip them of their powers, which I actually managed to do, to my surprise. I'm still kind of amazed I did the Slayer spell in the first place. And in the second place, too.

Once we knew it was an option, Giles and I took it upon ourselves to strip the power from a few women who refused their calling, but were willing to use the extra strength to their benefit. Very few women turned their backs on being Chosen and kept their new Slayer abilities. Once we've contacted them, it's usually either yes or no; although there are hundreds we haven't contacted yet, and already Giles is worried about the Council being divided in its methods, since we've changed so many things.

Evidently, what I'm dealing with in LA are two female Watchers, and two younger Slayers. One of the Watchers quit the Council before the First destroyed it, to come to Medical School at UCLA; the other Watcher was in New York with her potentials, then fled west while the First was after them. Why you would flee something by going towards it, I have no idea. Maybe they thought they'd blend.

I had no idea how to get in touch with the other three, but how hard could it be to find a medical student? So I decided to begin my Slayer hunt with Meredith Cunningham.

Meredith:

Ah, the joy of class letting out. I’ve always loved academia; when I’m in a classroom, I lose touch with the outside world. Every other thought in my mind will fade, and it’s just me and the flow of new information. Even so, I've been in school for 25 years, and there's nothing quite like the rush of freedom at the end of a long day of classes.

As I wander towards the parking lot and my car, I notice a pretty redhead on the steps. I mean, come on; I’m dating, not dead. Someone got REALLY lucky in the girlfriend department. Not that my boyfriend is anything to sneeze at, but I sort of miss dating women. Before I get a good look at Ms. Ireland, I'm distracted by one of my study partners from Fundamentals II, and when I'm finally moving again, the redhead is gone.

I'm dragging what feels like a ton of books around with me, and although my strength has been drastically improved since I was Called, it's still tiring after seven hours. Of course, when I get to my car the back seat is so crammed full of the detritus of my hectic schedule, the only place to put ton-o-books is on top of my surfboard; which just SO would not be copasetic. I check carefully that no one is watching before I lift the heavy board with one hand to place the bag beneath it.

Today I feel distracted, and my life feels like something out of a movie. Or worse, an After School Special. Medical student by day, Slayer and 'Assistant Watcher' by night, surfer girl by dawn when I can fit it in. I keep the secret of the Slayer, pass my classes, fight evil without getting myself killed (so far), and even have a man. I wonder if the girl who stopped me earlier might be interested in having a drink…

I don't get it; I used to be so normal. Even when I was in training with David, I had an ordinary life; well, other than the violence, and the bisexuality. When I lived in England I went out any time I wanted, had friends, partied. These last four years traveling the world, researching my thesis, enrolling in Med school, and finally being Called; these are the years that messed me up. Or maybe I was messed up before, and I just spazzed and never noticed.

I crank my stereo and push all thought from my head as I battle afternoon traffic through the city. LA driving is bloody awful stuff, but I've adapted to it by having a crap car with a really awesome stereo. If I hadn't been a Potential when I was younger, I probably would have gone into music. My Watcher used to tease that I wouldn't have been able to slay anything without background music. That line of thinking reminds me that David is dead now, and destroys the peaceful, easy feeling I had a minute ago. Once again I push the bad thoughts away, and concentrate on singing along with Bono as I weave my way home. I wouldn’t wish this mess on my worst enemy. Of course, I don’t have any enemies, but, you know.

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It takes me less than an hour to get home from campus for the first time in a week, and I celebrate by cleaning my car. I really shouldn't let old coffee sit like that; it was starting to smell pretty funky.

I don't even notice Ms. Ireland until after my fourth trip back from the garbage can. I feel no impending doom, so I risk ignoring her and see what develops. I've got my car mostly cleared of nastiness and useless debris before I see her approach out of the corner of my eye.

"Excuse me." She has a chipper voice, almost childlike, and I wonder idly if she's old enough for me to have a go at her. "Are you Meredith Cunningham?"

Bollocks. She's looking for me. This is majorly bad; who knows what she wants, and the following me is so not cool. I consider lying, but looking up into her hopeful green eyes I just can't. I'm a stupid, stupid girl. "Yeah, I'm Meredith." I sound nervous, and make an effort to calm down. "Most people call me Merry. And you are?" I extend my hand, and act like I can't crush her into pulp, in case I need to surprise-attack later.

Ms. Ireland gives me a huge grin, and it really does feel like a gift. "My name's Willow Rosenberg. I'm a Watcher, and I was asked to come visit you." Her voice is carefully low, and I can tell that she's checking for anyone who might be close enough to hear. Very wise; and direct, which counts for a lot in my book.

She has a name! Well, of course she does. It’s a pretty name, though; it suits her. I'm not supposed to speak to her without consulting my superior, but there's something inherently trustworthy about her. I've learned the last few months that instinct won't betray me. Plus, hot chick in my living room, yay! "It's lovely to meet you, Willow Rosenberg. Why don't you come up to my apartment, where there's more privacy." I risk reminding her that being alone with me could be hazardous, to convey understanding of her concern for discretion. Then I hold my breath.

She nods, suddenly shy, letting go of the hand I hadn't noticed her holding longer than necessary. "Thank you. That sounds good. I mean, having some privacy…To talk, and get to know one another…Talk about work…I mean…"

I giggle. I can't help it; the babbling and blushing she's doing are precious. I know giggling is juvenile for one pushing thirty, but oh well. She sure is a sweet little thing. Well, not so little, she towers over me by at least four inches. "It's all right, we can talk about…Almost anything. Let's just go inside and cop a squat, I'm too tired for standing around, ya' know."

I dig in the back seat again, and come out with my mammoth bookbag and my beachbag. I slept at the beach last night; well, I tried to sleep. I have no idea how I didn’t notice it earlier, but some really vicious demons are attracted to water. Not to mention the vampires. To think of the sheer number of vamps I must have missed killing when I lived in Hawaii; it hurts my brain! I really need a shower. "Hey, Willow Rosenberg, since you came over unannounced and all, do you mind if I take a shower first thing? I feel totally icky." I lead her inside, dropping my bags with a grateful sigh.

"Sure! Not that I'm that eager for you to shower. I mean, sure, if you feel like you need to shower, you go right ahead, and I'll just stay sitting in here where I will not be thinking about you being naked…Umm…Forget I said that?" She's blushing again, but there's a gleam in her eyes that says it might not entirely have been an accident that she let that slip. Nice to know I can still attract the right kind of girl; I was starting to think that I was sending out men-only vibes.

I flash her a wide smile as I walk backwards, tour guide style, towards the bathroom. "I refuse to forget about pretty girls paying me compliments, Willow Rosenberg. Doesn't bloody happen every day, you know."

She frowns at me a little bit, and nods. "Umm, you know, you can just call me Willow, right?"

I giggle again. "Now I do. And please, call me Merry." I shut the door behind me before she has time to reply.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

I'm back in the living room as quick as I can be, which is about 25 minutes without makeup or blow-drying. I calmed enough in the shower to realize I'm in a dangerous situation. She could be anyone, a witch, or an immigration officer even, and she's in my living room.

Willow is wandering around, looking at my pictures and bric-a-brac, and I spend a minute admiring her figure before we have to get serious. I need to stop admiring her and start interrogating her. Any minute now…

"Who sent you?" I ask quietly. The beginning seems as good a place to start as any.

Willow turns away from my bookshelves to meet my eyes. She studies me for a minute, almost as if she's looking inside me, and begins to speak. "Like I said earlier, I'm a Watcher, I work with the new Council. I was asked to come here by Buffy Summers." She stops to see if I recognize the name and, of course, I do. I was planning to visit Buffy in Sunnydale, to offer my help and such, but before I made it down, both Council headquarters and Sunnydale were lost. "I hear you got a visit from Faith a few months ago. Wanna tell me why you told her to go to hell?”

Willow plops down onto my couch, leaving me to tower over her for the first time. I want to talk about Faith about as much as I want a root canal, but I have a feeling Faith left out a large chunk of intel in whatever she told Willow. “Did Faith happen to mention how she approached me?”

Willow frowns, and I lower myself into the chair across from her, watching her carefully. I take a deep breath to calm myself, and settle back in my seat. I have a feeling it’s going to be a bumpy night.

Before she replies, Willow reaches into the briefcase at her feet and removes a thick sheaf of papers. “This is all the information I have on you, and on three other Slayers in the LA area. I only know what’s written here.” She sets the papers on my coffee table and meets my eyes. “Why I came, really, is to find out why you’re giving up. You spent almost fifteen years working with the Council.”

I sigh. “Do you know anything about the way the old Council worked?”

“Well, sure, Giles explained its basic structure to us when we started reforming it. There were lots of Watchers, even though there was only one Slayer, well, there were two Slayers, really… Anyway, there were Watchers for the potentials, and Watchers who only did research, and one Watcher for the Slayer, and one who ran the whole shebang.” Willow looks a bit sheepish, but I motion for her to continue. “You joined the Council because you were a potential, which is why you’re a Slayer now. When I cast the spell to give Slayer power to all who had the potential to carry it…”

I gasp. “YOU cast a spell?” Oh, crap. This…Little girl in front of me may very well be the most powerful witch in the world. If she decides I need to be dead, or a toad, or be stripped of my powers, there’s pretty much nothing I can do other than kill her. Which would be a shame; there aren’t enough sexy redheads in the world that I could actually talk to about the whole Slayer thing. Come to think of it, I might not be able to kill her no matter what she looks like; she might be able to read my mind. I wonder if she knew I was looking at her ass earlier?

I’m afraid of her. She’s still giving me that safe, harmless feeling, and I’m still afraid. Okay, I’m terrified. There’s no way help would get here fast enough… Willow lowers her head, and I freeze. I’ve seen dark magic at work; I know she could easily manufacture that warmth and cheer I felt from her earlier, not to mention all kinds of glamours, and spells, and other nasty stuff that could kill me before I could blink.

Willow’s shoulder’s shake, and I brace myself for the end. I offer a quick prayer to the powers of light for the safe passage of my soul… And she isn’t doing anything. She’s sitting with her head bowed and shoulders hunched, shaking. My terror fades, and I try to get her attention. “Umm, Willow…”

She sobs. One of those dry-heaving sobs, the painful kind. The last of my fear is instantly gone, replaced by concern for the young woman in front of me. “Willow…”

“I’m sorry.” She gasps. “I probably ruined your life with that spell, I don’t blame you for being angry with me.” She sobs again, and the motion of filling her lungs tosses her head up enough that I can see her face, and the tears spilling down her cheeks. “It was the only way to stop the First, and I know that’s not an excuse for what you’ve gone through, all the adjustments, and the accidental breakage of things, and I wish I’d never done that STUPID SPELL!”

With that last shrieked pronouncement, the witch I was so scared of a minute ago loses herself in her tears. She’s so upset my own eyes are tearing up. The poor thing; I wonder how many negative reactions she’s lived through to be this upset by my little outburst. I sit beside her on the couch and rub her back, trying to calm her down, and also trying to figure out what to say once she is calm. By the time she’s breathing normally again, I think I have it figured out. “Thank you.”

She wrinkles her nose at me. “For what?” She asks, her voice hoarse from crying.

“For changing my life, for making it better. For apologizing, for worrying about all the women who weren’t as ready to handle the gift as I was. For speaking to me, and I can tell you’ve spoken to others, and freely admitting that you’re responsible for the spell’s outcome, good or bad. Now, I’m going to go make some tea, and when I come back, this part of the conversation will be over. But I need you to promise me something first.”

Willow swallows, and for a moment my desire to kiss her is almost overwhelming. She needs comfort and… And I have a boyfriend, and I’ve known her for all of an hour. Bloody hell.

“What?” She finally asks shakily. “What do you need from me?”

I smile at her, because I know she needs to see me comfortable, and because I want her to stop crying before I join in. No way am I letting her know how much more messed up her spell made my life, at least not for a good long while. “Please promise not to strip me of my powers, or turn me into a toad, or anything like that, okay?”

Her smile is a bit shaky, and not entirely happy, but it’s a positive response. She nods. “Okay. No turning you into anything I haven’t already turned you into. No spells in your apartment at all. Got it.”

Well, wish me luck, I’m going in. I hope the cavalry is safe, because if I’m making a bad decision here, I’d like someone to find my body before my cats start eating me.

“Did Faith happen to mention that we’d met before she showed up in LA last month?” I hand Willow her tea and sit myself back on the couch, but farther away this time. I’m trying to be comforting, not suicidal.

“No.” Willow’s frowning again. “There’s nothing about that in the file.”

“Well, we did. We had. We’d met, is what I’m trying to say. You see, I was one of those research-type Watchers. I was never supposed to be heading out into the field. In the normal course of life, I never even would have gotten to work with a potential. My specialty… Did Rupert tell you about Watcher specializations?” Willow nods. “Good. Well, my specialty is the Slayer line. I was researching my thesis for my Watcher’s course when Kendra was called, and I was going to meet up with her on the Hellmouth, but before I got the chance, she was killed. So after Faith was Called, and the Council decided not to send her after Buffy, I paid a visit to her in Boston.”

“Wait, if you were researching Slayers, why didn’t you ever come to see Buffy?” Willow is watching me carefully, and I feel a bit silly, but also kinda flattered by her attention. Oh boy, I am in SO much trouble.

“I was researching the line; the continuity, family history, strengths and weaknesses…That stuff. The purpose of my specialization is to try to predict which potentials are most likely to be called by researching the continuity of the bloodline of the original Slayer, and why some girls get picked and some don’t. The Slayer line split once before, in the early 1600’s. Which is actually a little known fact, because it was a set of twins… It’s a bit complex, but one somehow died and came right back, but by the time she did the other had been called. The records are a bit fuzzy; there wasn’t much medical technology back then. And, of course, they were identical, so lots of people never figured it out…”

“Wait, hold the phone here. With the weirdness. If it happened before, so long ago, then how come there haven’t been two Slayers all this time.”

I sit up straighter, warming to my subject. I’ve studied this for years, I know all the ins and outs of the line, but this incident was my thesis topic, so I’m especially well informed. “Well, they died at the same time. The exact same moment, actually. Only one was called to replace the two. We’d always believed that if they had died at different times, then two more would have been called. Then Kendra died, and Faith was called, which seemed to prove the theory. Still two Slayers. Buffy caused me a great deal of confusion when she died a second time. No one was called to replace her, because Faith was still alive ostensibly. I went to Faith back then because of the split in the line, it was my thesis topic. When I came here for school, I intended to visit Buffy, maybe do some additional revisions. I never got the chance. ”

Willow’s starting to look a tad overwhelmed. Which is totally cute, but I hate to feel like I’m frying her. “Look, Willow, I’m sure this isn’t what you came here to hear about. All I meant to convey by telling you this was that Faith and I had met before, and didn’t like one another all that much, and then she showed up at the mall one day and started telling me about how there are, like, a thousand Slayers, but that you wanted me to move to Cleveland…”

“Why would we make you move?” Willow looks a little less overwhelmed, and a little more angry. I hope not at me. “I mean, if you worked for the Council, you could be assigned somewhere, but Giles wouldn’t just make you move, he wouldn’t force you. I mean, we are trying to recruit trained Watchers to teach at the Slayer schools, but there are plenty of Slayers working independently still. You could totally freelance. Except that, you know, we’d prefer it if you had company. It might be nice, for you; another Slayer that you could team up with, someone else who understands what you’re going through…” Willow sounds so earnest, and she seems to be telling the truth. I haven’t seen Rupert in years, but I remember him being very regimented and, well, boring. Once Faith told me he was in charge, I didn’t see any reason to doubt that she was telling the truth. I wouldn’t have put it past him to change my entire life around just because it was the most logical thing to do from his point of view.

I think about my options for a minute. She knows that there are other Slayers in LA, and she wants me to work with other Slayers; no problems there, we’re already working together. She also wants me to be involved with the Council, which should be okay, but that really depends on how they work. I mean, are there meetings, retreats? Is there paperwork; God, I bloody hate paperwork. As Jezzie would say, it sucketh verily. Willow starts to look antsy, so I ask another question. “Say I wanted to…Freelance. What would I have to do for the Council?”

She smiles, and I have a feeling she’s about to go into her own ‘warming to my subject’ mode. “Well, it’s pretty neat, actually. Are you already out there, Slaying I mean?” I nod. “Great! Then all you’d have to do would be to get a Slayer buddy, and keep track of what you do. How many vamps you slay per patrol, where you slay them, any demons you come in contact with or slay…Or kill, or whatever. Kennedy and some of my girls prefer to bring a micro-cassette recorder on patrol, others report in by phone, or hold a meeting at the end of patrol. Then, if you have a problem, or if you’re being overrun, we can help. With the resources, and the magic, and stuff like that.”

Doesn’t sound so bad, when she puts it like that. “Is there paperwork? I bloody well hate paperwork.”

Willow shakes her head, looking sympathetic. “No, totally paperwork free. We communicate in a non-paperworky way, by e-mail, and the phone and stuff. Hey, restroom?”

“Sure. It’s that door, the one I went through earlier.” I gesture in the general direction of my lav and Willow heads across the room, leaving her cold half-cup of tea on the table. “Would you care for some more tea?” I ask. I mean, sure, I was originally from Cali, but I spent so many of my formative years in England I just can’t help the tea bit.

Willow nods her approval and closes herself in my bathroom, and I run for the phone and hit the speed dial. I have the teacups and myself in the kitchen before the first ring is over. Of course, Jezebel isn’t answering a single phone, and I have the chance to try all three before Willow comes back out. Figures; field Watchers, never available when you need them. I miss David; he’d know what I’m supposed to do.

I brace myself in case of confrontation and head back out to the living room. “Hey Willow? Do you mind if I get back to you about this? I mean, I’m not going to stop slaying the vampires, whether I agree to work with you or not, so no worries there. I guess I just need some time to…Absorb what you’ve said. I mean, I just found out that I was called by a spell, and the thousand Slayer thing was true, but the Slayer gathering thing, not so much, and…Well, it’s all pretty confusing. And you said something about Slayer Schools, right? What’s the deal? Is that the gathering thing Faith was talking about?”

Willow looks a bit worried, but I can tell she’s trying not to. She’s very cautious when she begins to talk again, and I pay super-careful attention to what she has to say. “Well, see, there are so many Slayers now who never had Watchers, or who are way young, or have problems…We’re setting up the schools so we can teach them what they need to know with a limited number of Watchers; you know, since so many Watchers got killed, too. It’s also like a support system. Lots of the teachers are Slayers, too. There are usually dorms, the typical Slayer training, with weapons and demonology, and usually regular school-type classes; math, history, that stuff. Also it’s safe for them, a place where they belong and people care about them.

“Lots of girls lost family to the First.” Willow looks up at me. “Almost everyone lost someone. Some of them got into accidents trying to get away and are crippled, or have other physical or mental problems. We’re not only trying to train them, we’re trying to help them live with the power. See, there’s this theory that all Slayers eventually either have a death wish, or they succumb to the evil.”

“You know, that’s not a bad theory.” I can’t help but interrupt, even though the kettle is wailing and I have to kinda yell from the kitchen. “All of the data is inconclusive on whether or not an especially nasty demon or aged Vampire is more likely to kill a Slayer than a fledgling. A death wish would certainly explain it. But what’s the purpose of the schools. I mean, what happens to the girls when they graduate?”

Willow nods, smiling. God, she’s cute. Bad Merry, focus on the practical stuff, you’re going to need to report on the Slayer schools and the Council, not the fact that you can see down her shirt when you stand over her and hand her tea. “Well, when they’re ready to be on their own, we’ll send a team out. Ideally, we’d like to have a traditionally trained Slayer, a Slayer-Watcher, and a witch or a witch-Slayer working together. And of course, we encourage family and friends to participate, providing they get some training. Cooperation from friendly demon species is also encouraged.”

I arch my eyebrows at her. “That’s certainly…Liberal of you. And how are we supposed to keep the secret calling of the Slayer a secret if we tell all of every Slayer’s friends and family what she is?”

“Well, sure, it needs to say a secret as much as possible. But really, most people want to protect their kids, and the Slayers themselves are usually pretty good judges of which friends could handle the responsibility, and are loyal to them. Oh, and also, there are independent demon hunters out there; some of them have agreed to help out. They’re mainly on Hellmouths and in big cities, but that’s where we need the help, at least right now. We’re kinda keeping the newbies as out of the way as we can.”

“Willow. Hellmouths? As in, more than one? But, the Council always referred to Sunnydale as THE Hellmouth.” This is new. I wonder why I never heard that there was another one?

She rolls her eyes, giving me a little trying smile. “Yeah, some of the Council things are like that. There are actually seven; well, six now, unless a new one opens. We’ve got a school on one, and active Slayer teams on two others. The others are kind of…Less active. Like, magnets for demons and evil, but more mellow. Less magnety. We’ll get teams to them soon, hopefully in the next year or two.”

“So, you’re trying to keep the untrained Slayers out of the way, but you but a whole building full of them right on top of an active Hellmouth?”

“See, you make it sound really bad when you say it like that. Cleveland’s Slayer School is run by Faith and the son of a Slayer, Robin Wood, who was also raised and trained by a Watcher. The teachers are all Slayers, four of whom survived the battle with the First in Sunnydale, and three Watchers from the old Council are helping out there right now. They only have twenty-five students; that’s fewer than I have in Rio, and we only have three teachers right now. Well, I’m here, so three. Usually four, when I’m there.”

I nod trying to absorb all of this. It’s strange, that when I was called, when all of us were called at the same time, we never thought about how many of us there might be. I, especially, should have thought of it. I mean, I’ve seen the family tree; I know there are tons of women in the world carrying Slayer blood. “Okay, listen Willow, I really need time to figure out what I’m going to do, here. I need to talk to some people, figure things out. I mean, sure, I’m trained, and I have the power, but I’m in medical school. I mean; I can barely manage to pass my classes and have something resembling a social life. I can’t be in charge of a team; I just don’t have the time. I’d love to help, and actually I’m studying sports medicine, so I can be really useful with injured Slayers, but I need to figure this all out.”

Willow winces. “Actually, there’s a more pressing issue, as far as I’m concerned at least. There’s an apocalypse coming, or at least a possibly world-ending event. I have to get back to my hotel in a few hours to meet up with my friend Spike and get some planning done, and I have three more Slayers to try and contact. Are you interested in finding out what’s going down, and maybe helping out? Because we could sure use some Slayer-type help. You don’t have to, you know, it’s just that I promised that I’d ask.” She looks like she’s afraid of getting hurt, but she plugs along anyway. “Anyway, if you wanna tag along for the rest of the day, you’re more than welcome. Of course, I know you’re busy, so probably not so much. Anyway, it was really nice to meet you, and, um, let me give you my number, so you can get in touch with me, you know, if you want.”

Willow digs around in her purse for something, and I watch her. The world is ending? The world can’t end; I have a test next week. Wait, maybe ending is all right… No. Ending the world is NOT all right. This is part of the job, right. I mean, I was called to protect people; I’ve been training since I was eleven, and I can help. “Willow, hold on a sec.” She looks up at me as I stand, and I pat her on the head even thought I know it’s kinda condescending, just because I can’t help it. “Let me get my coat. Oh, and Willow; I know the other Slayers, in LA, I mean. Don’t worry, if they’re available, we can get them to come to us. Wait, would you rather get back to your hotel, or stick around here for a while? You're welcome to hang out here if you like.”

Slowly, Willow stops digging around in her purse, and looks up at me. That hopeful look, the one that tipped the scales in her favor out in the parking lot, is back in her eyes. I smile, and turn towards the door to get my coat. After that, I head towards my weapons chest in the window seat and grab a few extra things to throw into my beach bag, removing yesterday’s clothes and my wet suit as I pack them up. By the time I’m settled, Willow is at the door, waiting for me, which I guess means we're going. I stand, and meet her eyes again. I wish I knew I was doing the right thing. I trust my gut, which says to trust Willow. I just hope my gut isn’t being influenced by my libido…

Willow opens my front door and leads the way back to the parking lot. “So, can we take your car? I didn’t bring one.”

Spike:

Red's somewhere in LA, alone; haven't been able to get the thought out my head all day. Feels like it's bloody echoing. I know she's an adult, and a plenty powerful witch, but I remember a scared little teenage girl who could barely levitate a pencil or speak to strangers, and that image overlays the reality. I make fun of Buffy for worrying, but I'm just as bad, really. Not like I'd admit that.

A workday at Wolfram & Hart is about what I imagine Hell is like. I get stuck up to my eyeballs in either freakish Hollywood types or dusty old books. Never thought I'd say it, but odds on I prefer the books. Least they don't try to grab my ass all the ruddy time.

Watcher Jr. isn't doing well; expect him to go bug-shagging any minute, have done since Fred…Anyway. Tried a few times to speak to him, but I don't know ‘em enough to figure what’ll help, and anyway help is the last thing he wants. Sitting across a table from him, translating what we can find on the Circle of the Black Thorn, I wonder if it wouldn't be a mercy to let him die. He's not a bad sort, and he's in pain, know enough to figure that.

"Hey, Watcher."

It takes a bit before I get a reaction, and then it's as though anything I say would be dreadfully tedious. "Yes, Spike, what do you want now?" Like I've been a bloody thorn in his side all day.

"Red's in town. We're having dinner later, and I figured you might wanna come along. Be fun. You could use some." Willow can help him far better than I. Don't want him to think I'm worryin’ about him. Would be bad for my image.

Wesley gives a tired sigh. "We have work to do, and I'm not about to tag along with you and your questionable friends for a night out. If I meant to spend time with demons, I'd stay here, thank you." His gaze returns to his book, so he misses my dramatic eye roll.

"Questionable friends indeed. That's no way to talk about Willow, now is it? Thought you liked the bird. I still say, it would be good of you to come with us." I return my own gaze to the pages before me, wondering why so many books on this particular topic come from the Middle East. S'pose it's not surprising; those sands seem to breed evil. Was a right nice place to visit, lots of mayhem before the humans killed off most of the demons.

"Willow? Willow Rosenberg?" I look up from the text before me to meet Wesley's frown. "Whatever are you doing meeting with her?"

I, of course, don't think before I respond. "She's in town meeting up with some Slayers, and we're gonna have dinner. I mentioned dinner, didn't I?" Then it clicks why he's looking at me like that. Andrew's little speech about us working for opposite teams, Giles and Buffy not trusting Wolfram & Hart. And, of course, Wesley has no idea I've been in touch with Buffy.

"'S not work related, if that's what's got you in a snit. Just an even' with an old friend. Not much chance I'll make it out of LA alive, when she called I figured I'd say goodbye." Yeah, that seems convincing. I can fill him in on the details later. "So, you wanna join us, or are you gonna sit here and wallow in your misery all bloody night?" I get up, glancing at the clock to confirm what my body already knows; sun's about to set. "Gotta be off in a bit, told Red I'd ring her 'round sunset."

I look back at Wesley, find him sizing me up like he's bloody well gonna make me a new suit. I'm trying not to be rash; we’re facing the end of the world, here, and I'd like not to get staked before I get a few shots in. Man's unstable enough for almost anything at the mo’. After a minute, I give up and turn for the door. Guess I'm on my own with Red. Hopefully she'll have at least one Slayer in her pocket.

"Spike." I turn to find the Watcher hauling himself out of his chair. "Actually, I would like to see Willow."

I fight the urge to smile, and just nod in his general direction. "Good. You could use a decent meal." I turn back for the door. "Let's go, then."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

I wait to call until we're in the car, to find that Willow's not back at the hotel. "Well, can I leave her a message, then?"

"Of course, sir. What would you like us to tell her?"
I frown, wondering if there's anything I can say that won't arouse suspicion in a normal person. "Tell her that Spike called, and that…"

"I'm sorry, sir, but I need your last name to fill out the message form."

I sigh, wishing I could reach through the phone and wring the too-chipper bird's neck. "Spenser. Look, just tell her I called, and Wesley's with me. Got that?" I know I'm being short with the lady, but driving in this bollixed traffic while talking on the phone has me agitated.

"Mr. Spenser, yes. Ms. Rosenberg called and left a message in case you called. She'll meet you in the lobby, and two guests will be joining her for dinner." I pull the phone away from my ear to stare at it in confusion. Willow left a message for me. I'm surprised she bloody well knew my real name, let alone used it. I put the phone back to my ear and thank the bint before I hang up on her, then call and make reservations for dinner. Wolfram & Hart's buying.

"We're meeting with whom again?" Wes sounds bothered, so I figure I'd better start talking.

"Yeh, Red's bringing 'couple of people with her. Never met 'em." Glancing at him from the corner of my eye, I see his expression darken. "Most likely they're the Slayers she came to recruit. I'd say old friends, but I doubt there are many left." I shrug and make an effort to look calm and unconcerned. I'd love to explain the whole plan, but I know how Evil Inc. works, and the chance is too great that the car is bugged. Bugger this; we should've taken a bloody taxi. The big guys 've gotta have tracking on this thing.

As soon as I think that, I get the mental picture of little Red kidnapped and tied up by yours truly a while back, and shudder. God, I'm turning into a bloody gigantic ponce. Time was a little danger wouldn't have upset me a bit, now I'm fussing over the witch like SHE was my girl. Before I can stop myself listenin' to the 'protect Red' instinct, I'm pulling into the parking lot of a different Hilton. Wes follows without a word, and I send up my own version of a prayer to whoever might be listening that I managed to ditch the car without it becoming an argument.

We get a taxi in front of the hotel, with Wesley studying me once again. I think he's been spending too much bloody time with Illyria. "I was just thinking, all things being equal, it would be foolish to trust anything from the motorpool." I murmur, trying to move my lips as little as possible.

He nods, but I can still feel his eyes on me, and on top of my nerves about the upcoming battle and about Red it's too bloody much. Once we're on our way I turn to him. "Look here, Wes, the girls are going to help us. Well, I bloody well hope they are. Red's in our camp, willing to do whatever we need."

"Giles sent us some help?" Wesley looks faintly surprised, and maybe a bit cheered.

Bloody buggering hell, I hate to tell him this. "No, the Slayers we're gonna meet don't work for the Council, Red's on holiday trying to hire them. She and I worked this out." Not going to mention Buffy until someone else does; if Nancy-boy here runs off and tattles to the great pouf, at least he won't be able to get into this…thing we're developing and muck it all up. Angel would just confuse the situation. I've been keeping her phone calls and e-mails to myself; I'll share her once we get out of this Wolfram & Hart business.

Wes nods, and mutters something about getting Willow's help sooner, then falls silent as the car weaves through LA traffic, which is just as bad as it was earlier, despite night having come full on.

When we get to the hotel, I spot Red waiting on a couch across the lobby with a little brunette girl. Not that it's a surprise, but I feel the Slayer right away, and the feeling's different than being around Buffy, or even Faith, yet similar enough. Reminds me just what being in Buffy's presence feels like. I have the newbie pegged for Nibblet's age, but as we move closer to them I notice details that say older, more like 20's or early 30's.

Red looks up when we come to what'd be shouting distance in a place like this, and I can't not grin at her. After Buffy and Dawn, this was the one I worried about the most. We've had a strange relationship; just like with Buffy, I went from trying to kill her to living in the same house. I've missed her, I realize.

Red does a double blinker, and bolts suddenly off the couch headed straight for me. If I breathed, she'd have knocked the wind right out of me launching herself into my arms like that, but damn does it feel good. I gripe at her a bit to get off me, since Watcher's there and all.

When she lets go we're both a little watery, but I'm bloody well not mentioning it if she's not. She flashes a big smile and bounces up on her feet a bit. "Congratulations! On being corporeal, I mean."

I chuckle, her enthusiasm is catching. "You look bloody smashing, Red. Good to see you've stayed in one piece."

She pulls away to greet Wesley, and I'm left looking at the unnamed Slayer before me. She's tiny, shorter than Buffy, and a bit round. Her hair is short and curly and held back with little plastic bits, which is likely what gave me the teenager impression. She's eyeing me cautiously, and I try not to look threatening since we're gonna ask for her help.

The witch and the Watcher turn toward us. "Spike, Wes, I'd like you to meet Meredith Cunningham, Watcher and Vampire Slayer." She motions toward the other girl. "Merry, this is Wesley Wyndham-Price and William Spenser."

The bird shakes hands with Wes first, then turns to me. I'm working hard not to pay any mind to Red's use of my full human name, or the strange look Wes' giving me. "Ah, Willow, you do know he's a bloody vampire, right?" I'm a bit surprised at the accent since Red's pickin' her up here an’ all, but I'm sure I'll hear all about her later.

Willow and Wesley assure her that they do, in fact, know I'm a vampire. Wes even tells her a bit about ensouled vampires, much to my dismay. Hate that they think everyone needs to know that. She offers me her hand, and I'm pleased she's cautious but not terrified. "Pleasure to meet you."

She tilts her head at me, frowning a bit. I'm not really interested so I turn back to Willow. "Hey Red, when you said two guests for dinner, I hope you weren't countin' Research Boy here, I made reservations for five."

Willow rolls her eyes at me. "No, Spike, I wasn't counting Wesley, or did you miss the part where I left my message first." I smirk and she shakes her head in response. "And by the way, can I just say how weird it is that you made a dinner reservation, and just shook hands politely? This week has totally got to be the strangest week since I left the Hellmouth." I think Red must have just realized she'd gotten off topic, because she stops to think for a bit before she goes on. "Oh, yeah, so, I have another Slayer on the way. She should be here already, but she's on her way from LMU, and we're not hopeful on the traffic front."

"Yes, I've noticed that driving in Los Angeles is akin to driving in Katmandu." Wes nods as if he's agreeing with someone else's statement, and Willow smiles.

"Ah, this is the Wesley I remember. The super-dorky one." I smile at his discomfited look and open my mouth to join her snarking at Watcher Jr. when I get a new Slayery tingle at the back of my neck. This one's more like to the way Faith felt, more familiar than the feeling I get from little Merry. What the hell kind of name is Merry, anyway? It's a bloody adjective, not a name.

"Red, think your other Slayer just showed up." I turn towards the door, and almost fall flat on my face. The Powers-That-Buggerall seem to be playing a great bloody cosmic joke on me. She looks a helluva lot like Dru. It's bloody eerie, actually; she's even pale, and has the long curly hair.

The new Slayer smiles when she spots us and hurries over. As she comes closer the shock wears off a bit, and I force myself to notice the differences rather than the similarities between her and Drusilla, so the questions don't drive me mad.

When I've sorted myself a bit I turn toward the rest of the group to find Willow and Wesley's attention fixed on the approaching Slayer, and little Merry's eyes fixed on me. I arch an eyebrow at the wench, my best 'tell me what you're bloody looking at or kiss off' look on my face, and she grins. No answer, just a smug little smile I'm highly tempted to knock off her. Our stare-off is interrupted by the new Slayer, who screams Wes' name and grabs him.

When I turn, her face is buried in the crook of Wes' neck. Willow shoots me a confused look and I shrug. Fuck-all if I know what's going on; I though she'd be able to tell me.

When they pull apart, Watcher and Slayer are both sporting huge stupid grins. "Oh, my God, Wesley, I thought you were dead. I'm so happy to see you." Her smile is big enough to split her face, and it gets to me. I'm trying to keep blank, but an old friend, possibly an old flame, seems just the thing for him. P'raps if he's cheered up, he'll be more useful. Can't help it if that cheers me up, too.

"Jezebel? What in the name of God are you doing here? I'd thought you were at the Council." Wesley's face shifts from awe to pleasure as he looks at her. "You're alive! Oh, thank heavens." He pulls her close again, and I notice Red's smiling. Never knew he had it in him to bag such a beautiful bird. My estimation of the Watcher has grown by leaps and bounds.

When they finally pull apart, the Slayer's gaze redirects to Red and me, and her eyes narrow. Watcher keeps his arm wrapped around her as he introduces us. "Jezebel Neves, may I introduce Willow Rosenberg and, er, Spike."

She's polite to both of us, even she seems to be sizing me up a bit closely. Wonder what she's thinking when she looks at me. If I didn't know better, I'd say she knows exactly who and what I am. Must just be because she bears such a resemblance to my dark princess. Poor sweet, daft Dru; I wonder where she is now, if she's all right.

Once we're all introduced and friendly-like, it gets a bit awkward. I catch Red's eye, and nudge her a bit. "Ay, Red, we about ready to go, or did you have something else to do here? We have 'bout an hour to get to dinner."

She nods. "Yeah, I mean no, we're just meeting here, so now that we're all here, I guess we're ready to eat. Or, you know, to head to the restaurant, anyway. So I guess we should go, because if we just stand around here we're going to be late, and then we might miss our reservation, and then we'll be hungry."

The rambling and her slight uneasiness is reassuring, reminds me of Buffy and my Bit. Kinda hope Red never outgrows it; the twittering for no apparent reason is one of those things that made Sunnyhell feel like home, even if I'd never say it to another soul. Bloody hell, not only am I becoming a Nancy-boy, now I'm thinking in bleeding sappy songs. Someone stake me now.

"Alright, Red, take a breath; you're liable to lose your jaw it keeps flapping like that."

Red whacks me one. Just hauls off and smacks me in the arm, and she's not strong enough for it to hurt, but I jump because it's more Nibblet's style, not Red's. "Watch it, mister tough guy, or I'll start telling embarrassing Dawn stories." She's giving me that 'do what I say or die' look I've seen her give Harris a million times, and I'm surprised to find it works on me as well.

"Awright, Red, no need to get violent." Of course, I get a big evil smirk from the witch, who then turns to the assembled Slayer-Watcher group and ushers them out of the hotel.

"So, Jezzie, how do you know Wesley?" Merry's nosy, I can see that right off. She's been dying to ask that ever since those two recognized one another.

"We were in Watcher training togetha'." She responds, grinning back at Wes. I refrain from commenting that she seems far too happy 'bout that.

"Yes, we spent rather a lot of time together at one point. Jezebel was a frightfully impressive student." That look he's giving her implies she ain't bad at other things, either.

She rolls her eyes, and Merry snickers. "Please, Wes, my academic record was nowhere near good as yours. And, I'd been in unofficial training for years at that point, so I had a slight advantage."

"Yes, well, I wasn't raising a child and taking classes at the same time; I still have no earthly idea how you kept it all together, let alone as well as you did."

Watcher's laying it on a bit thick, I think, but she seems to enjoy it. There's a faint blush to her cheeks, and her eyes are bright and happy as he fauns all over her. Good show to him. I'll have to pump him for information later, there's a lot of history here.

"Oh, you have a baby?" Willow's looking all excited. Wonder if she's picked up baby fever somewhere.

"Well, she's not a baby anymore. Laurie's sixteen." Jezebel smiles benignly, oblivious to any reaction she might get from Red or I. I think we're both trying not to give one.

Now, I discarded most of the conventions of society soon’s I became a vampire. In my unlife, humans' ways of doing things changed a lot, and mostly in ways I approve of. The one little smidgen of Victorian morality I've held onto is an abhorrence for unwed motherhood. Might as well leave the little buggers out for a vampire snack, that's how little chance of a normal life they get.
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"Laurie's not actually hers." Why Merry feels the need to explain, I have no bloody clue, but seeing as I'm trapped in her back seat, I listen. "Mary Alice, another potential in New York who worked with Jezzie's Watcher, was Laurie's birth Mum. Mary Alice took off when the baby was 3, and her parents wouldn't take Laurie, so Jezzie raised her."

Willow nods. "Wow, I can't imagine going through high school with a baby. And then she went into Watcher school."

"Yeah, well Jezzie was home schooled, so by the time she went into Watcher Academy she was mostly done with university." Merry sighs. "I really hated that; when she just had to spar, or study demonology or something, and I had to do all of that plus my real schoolwork."

I laugh, I can't help it. To add to the irony of a Slayer who looks like a vampire, she's a genius Slayer who looks like an insane vampire. Red shoots me a look, and I try to calm down, but the idea is so bleeding priceless I can't. I can't have been the only one who's noticed; Red was staring at her earlier, too. Then again, Red might just have been looking at her tits, never really sure with her.

"Care to explain what's so bloody amusing?" Merry asks, and I crack up all over again.

Don't remember the last time I laughed so hard. And I have no idea how to explain this to anyone. I finally calm down enough to say, "The Powers That Be have a buggering nasty sense of humor."

Jezebel:

Wednesdays are my big class day, so by the time I got home I was exhausted. I wanted a friggin' shower and my bed, the sooner the better. Which, of course, meant I had 15 papers to grade, Laurie needed help with her homework, Apple wanted to start patrol early, and the mortgage bill came in the mail.

Typical. I'd checked my cell phone messages on the way home, and I'd have gotten a ticket if I was driving because I almost walked into traffic. When I hit the machine in the kitchen, sure enough there's another one. "Jezzie, it's me. Call me ASAP, I've got a visitor from the Council on hand, and she has your name. We need to talk." Yep, same message. I'd have ignored just one message, because I'm in too foul a mood to deal with those assholes tonight; but Merry obviously needs me, so I guess I gotta deal with it. Frickin' A.

I call the neighbors to watch the girls before I do anything. Sure, they're 16 now, but I know exactly what kind of trouble two teenage girls can get in. Besides, after dealing with The First I don't take chances. Apple barely made it out of the hospital alive; she'd never have recovered if she wasn't Called.

Then I call Merry's apartment, where there is, naturally, no answer. Her cell is answered by a girl. "Meredith's phone, Willow speaking."

"This is Jezebel, Merry called me earlier, said it was an emergency. Can I talk ta her, please?" I don't know any Willow, and I don't remember Merry mentioning the name. Council rep? Maybe, but she sounds awful young.

"Jezebel, great. Um, Merry's driving right now; we're actually driving towards you, we were coming over to pick you up for dinner, since we couldn't get a hold of you. Except, here you are, talking to me, so we did get a hold of you. I think we're gonna head back downtown now, because I promised my friend Spike I'd meet him, and it's getting late." Okay, maybe the Council is recruiting younger these days. "Hey, sorry, didn't introduce myself, not really I mean. I'm Willow Rosenberg, I work for the newly reformed Council of Watchers, and I was sent here to…"

Aright, I know this drill, I heard it from Faith. It's a fuckin' miracle Merry's in the car with this kid, and I need to know if it's voluntary. "Willow, please put Merry on the phone. Now." I use my patented Mom voice, and sure enough Merry's on the line in a little over a second.

"What'd you do, use the bleeding Mum voice on 'er?" Merry giggles, and I shake my head. You'd think she'd outgrow giggling at some point. "Listen, I want you to meet up with us for dinner, Willow's smashing, and I'm thinking 'bout taking them up on their offer. You could at least get a good meal before you tell them to go to 'ell."

My head is screaming, and I'm rubbing my forehead so intently I almost forget to answer. "Merry, I'm exhausted, an'…"

"Hey, Jezz, didn't you used to know a guy named Spike?" Merry's voice is too innocent, and it sets my mental wheels in motion. She knows very well that as long as she's known me I've never met anyone named…

Spike. William the Bloody. Shit, it can't be the same… I mean, I wrote my thesis on him, and now I'm supposed to be meeting him for dinner? And why would the Council want us to meet with him? Hey, wait a second, are Merry and I dinner? “No, but I think I know who you’re talkin' about.” I answer, trying to figurewhat to say in case Willow overhears.

“Ah, well, no big. Just thought the name sounded familiar; Willow said he was a Brit. You sure you don’t know him, maybe as William Spenser?” I know Merry entirely too well; she knows exactly what she’s telling me, and how to say it without raising suspicion. In another life, she’d have worked for the CIA instead of the Watcher’s Council, she’s that good.

“So, where should I meetcha?” I may regret this, but in case my hunch is right, and I’m about to meet William the Bloody, I think I’ll clean up a bit. I should probably call Penelope, too. I'm pretty sure this means I've won our bet.
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Of course, by the time I freshened up, got the girls settled, and fought my way through traffic I was the last one there. I spot Merry on the far side of the lobby, and as I move closer my senses scream ‘vampire’. I focus on him, and as soon as I meet his eyes I know who he’s thinking of. He’s somehow less impressive in person; I thought he’d be taller, or at least more threatening. The redhead must be Willow, and there’s one other person…Oh. My…

“Wesley!” I tackle him; I can’t help myself. I’ve known Wes since I was 18. We were very close for years, then for some reason we lost touch once we were both out on assignment. He’s been one of my best friends, my sometimes boyfriend, and the most scarily efficient research partner I’ve ever had. I missed him; I really, really missed him. I was sure he’d been sent back to England.

When I pull back to look at him, Wesley’s grinning. I’m pretty sure it’s the same smile splitting my face. Even if they try to feed us to the vamp later, this moment is worth the after. "Oh, my God, Wesley, I thought you were dead. I'm so happy to see you." I feel like jumping up and down, like dancing, like squealing like a little girl.

"Jezebel? What in the name of God are you doing here? I'd thought you were at the Council." Wesley's happy, but it takes him a mo' to catch on to heavy emotional situations. I’m surprised he hugged me back in public; he’s not one for PDA’s. He looks kinda awed as his eyes trace over my face. "You're alive! Oh, thank heavens."

This time he’s the one who pulls me close, and I have to remember I’m stronger now, and if I hold him tighter I’ll break his ribs. Wes finally pulls back again, and turns toward the rest of the group. Willow and Spike have almost parental smiles on their faces, and I’m sure they've got the wrong idea, but I don’t care right now.

While I’ve had my back to the vampire, Merry's eyes were locked on him. Least one of us is on our toes. He's not paying attention to her; he's watching Wes and I. Wes drapes his arm behind me, which surprises me. He does make formal introductions, though, which doesn't. "Jezebel Neves, may I introduce Willow Rosenberg and, er, Spike."

Aright, he has to know who Spike is; we used to work on our theses together. He saw all the pictures and drawings I had in my old apartment. Hell, Wes was the first person to point out that I bear a more than passing resemblance to Drusilla. I look at Wes, and he ignores me. Typical. Of course he's not answering questions with all of them here, that's not Wes' style.

We all shake politely, and soon Willow's herding us outside. I drive Wes, while the other two go with Merry. After all, if they already got the wrong idea, might as well work with it. Before I pull away from the curb, I'm asking questions. “You know who that was, right? Does he know you know who he is? And what’s he doing involved with the Council?”

Wes settles back in his seat. “Yes, I do know who we just met with. Willow Rosenberg is one of Buffy Summers’ closest friends, and also a very powerful witch; she performed the spell that Called you and the other Potentials. Meredith Cunningham was the girl you mentored at the Academy; although I never met her, I do recognize the name. And of course, William Spenser, otherwise known as William the Bloody or Spike.” His accent is precise and soothing, and I relax. I’ve just gotta play the game his way. Until I get my answers, at least.

“Spike has spent the last several years working with the Slayer, as an ally on the side of good. About two years ago he was ensouled.” His eyes meet mine. “He chose to have a soul, he went through trials, and won it. Since I left the Council, I’ve been working with another ensouled vampire. Angel.”

I know the history of souled vampires better than Wes. I think sometimes he forgets he doesn't know everything. I specialized in Vampire Lore when I was with the Council; well, I didn't actually get certified, due to a change in leadership, but I studied more than enough. I got very lucky; my teacher was the Council’s foremost expert on vampire history. He taught me more about vamps than the Council thought was right. I know about the prophecies concerning the Order of Aurelius. I certainly know the name Angel, or Angelus.

“So, what, you're working with him, but not with the Council anymore?” Frickin’ A, I like being left outta the loop, even less than I like Quentin Travers.

“Yes, well, I had a rather unpleasant experience in Sunnydale, and I went out on my own, and eventually started working with Angel.” I know better than to press him for more details, Wes has a tendency to clam up. I’ll make due with Cliff’s Notes for now. “Jezebel, we’re about to go into battle. Have you ever heard of the Circle of the Black Thorn?”

The rest of the drive, Wes gives me the lowdown on their involvement with Wolfram & Hart, prophecies he’s sadly misinterpreted, and the battle plan. All in all it leaves me with more questions than it answers, but few have to do with William the Bloody.

When I pull up to the restaurant, our ‘party’ is waiting outside. Merry is normally skittish around witches, but Spike and Willow have drawn her into conversation and she seems comfortable. Good for her. I’ve gotten increasingly uncomfortable. Spike smirks as we join the group. “Ay, Watcher, we’d started to think you two ran off. You do realize I was lying when I said this was a social occasion?”

Wes sighs, which is a gift he has. He can say more wit' a sigh than I can in a whole rant. “Yes, Spike, I’d rather hoped our dinner with two Slayers and a witch on the eve of the Apocalypse was business related.”

His expression is carefully blank, and you have to really know him to catch his teasing. Willow and Merry are both frowning a bit, but Spike’s smirk fades into a genuine smile.

Spike nods and leads us inside, trailed closely by Willow and Merry. We bring up the rear, Wes’ hand on my back. It’s a little too familiar right now. Leave it to my boy Wes to bring me down so quickly after our reunion. I don't know how to tell him, but his analysis is way off. Sigh. He’s always been so sensitive about his intellectual skills.

I’m hurt that he never called me; he knows damn well I know vampire prophecies. Considering how many researchers died in the explosion last year, I may even be the world’s leading authority on vampires. Well, the leading mostly-human authority, anyway.

Once we’re seated, Willow opens the discussion. “Well, first I’d like to thank all of you for coming.” She smiles. “Now, does everyone know what's up? As of now, I mean.” We all nod, and Wes looks like he’s about to interrupt, but before he can she keeps going.

“What I was thinking was, I'd do an individual protection spell on each fighter. I’ll look it over again later, and see if I can’t enhance it. I’ll put the whammy on you guys about 12 hours out. Supposing my whammy is working.” Spike chuckles, and she whacks him on the arm again. He seems less surprised this time.

"I say we send the Slayers with Wes and Charlie-boy." Interesting input from the vampire, protecting the most vulnerable fighters like that. Interesting indeed.

“I must say, I object to being coddled, and I’m sure Charles would agree.” Wes sounds mad, and I can’t blame him. It used to drive me crazy to be covered in a fight when I was a Potential.

“Object all you bloody want, last time I checked you and Charley-boy were the weakest who plan on fighting. Am I missin' something?” Spike’s just as mad as Wes, and Merry has tensed next to me. I can almost hear her internal mantra, ‘don’t antagonize the vampire’. 'Cept she’d probably throw a 'bloody' in somewhere for good measure. “Look, Watcher, I know you can take care of yourself, but this ain’t gonna be a picnic. You don’t have some kind of death wish, do you?”

They lock eyes, and I get the feeling I’ve missed something. Willow must know whatever it is, because she’s also staring at Wes. The tension is broken by the waiter, and we scramble for our menus. Spike orders food, but I guess it'd be strange if he didn’t. I find the first pasta dish without meat and order that.

Once the waiter’s gone, Merry picks up the conversation again. “I’m confused about one thing. This guy, Lindsay, do we really trust him to help, after he just tried to kill all of you? Shouldn't we get rid of him, instead of trying to work together?”

I have no clue what she’s talking about, but Willow and Spike are nodding, and Wesley looks like he’s sucking a lemon, which is not a good look for him. Willow answers. “Well, I’ve actually been wondering that myself. Wesley, you know the most about the Lindsay situation. I mean, you were around the last time he was, before now, I mean. Do you think that would work; just getting him out of LA? I could send him to my school in Rio.” She raises her eyebrows at him, and he frowns back.

“I have no idea if you could keep him under control, or convince him to assist us willingly. He’s a wild card; none of us truly understand his motivations. He has carried a vendetta against Angel for years, and his current state of mind worries me a great deal. Then again, he has also been helpful in the past.” Typical Wes; stick to the party line, and when in doubt, evade the question.

“But if he’s being held magically in Rio, where the Senior Partners, or the Order, or Circle, or whoever can’t get to him… You know, if he’s out of the equation, you’re all better off.” Willow’s persistent; I’ll give her that. And I really wish I knew what the fuck they're talking about. “It’s really up to you, Wesley. Either way.”

“What exactly do you mean, either way?” I can’t help butting in, and I’m sure my frustration is showing, but I don’t care.

Willow looks a bit sheepish. “There’s a variant on the spell I developed to suppress a Slayer's powers when we need to; it can extract magical powers from a person. We could probably use that to turn the guy into a null, possibly just using the spell on him for long enough would kill him.”

Willow, suddenly scarier than she was a minute ago. Spike takes her chin in his hand and turns her to face him, examining her carefully. “You sure you’re not bloody evil Willow?” Willow laughs, but doesn’t try to get her chin back. I wonder if his lack of body temperature feels weird.

“How can you tell? You weren’t around for the evil Willow episode.” She’s being very direct for someone who’s referring to herself as evil. And we're trusting someone who had an 'evil episode'?

“I got the instruction manual on how to tell if you’re goin’ all ‘black magic’ on us.” Spike sounds less than concerned. “And, I can always call Rupert if I need anything clarified; cell phone’s right in my pocket.”

Willow finally pulls away from him. “Well, no worries, I’m me, and I’m totally black free at the moment. And, really, it seems like the instruction manual would have said you’re better off calling Xander if I fall off the wagon.”

He winces. “Nothing you did, even if you joined the other side and dusted all of us, could make me call the whelp for advice.” He sounds disgusted, Willow just giggles.

“Anyway, Wesley.” Willow turns her attention away from the vamp. “You need to make a decision tonight, because I’ll have to take care of it ahead of time.”

Wes nods but doesn’t comment. I’m about to take advantage of the lull and ask some questions, but the food comes about the time I open my mouth. Figures. We all dig in, but I can't stop looking at William the Bloody, right there in front of me, eating a regular human dinner with impeccable table manners. I'm pretty sure Merry's having the same problem. Willow and Wes are cool with it, but Willow turns greenish when she notices the bloody juice on his plate from the severely undercooked steak he’s eating.

“I don’t know how you can eat that.” Willow winces as he takes another bite of mostly-pink meat.

“Vampire.” Spike mouths at her.

“Onion rings.” Willow replies. Spike arches an eyebrow at her, because his mouth is full again. “You know, the fried vegetables you eat by the pound, people food without all the…” She waves at the blood on his plate.

“Completely different.” Spike responds after he swallows. “Those just taste good. This is actual food.”

Willow shakes her head and goes back to her own food. Merry’s still watching the vamp, and my peripheral vision says Wes is brooding over his decision. Now’s good a time as any to put my two cents in.

“So, Wes tells me you've heard of the Shanshu prophecy.” I direct my comment to the whole table, but I get the full attention of William the Bloody. Almost makes me wish I was on the menu tonight. Almost. “If you want, I can take a look at the records, see what your chances are. I’m sure you thoughtta that, with the stakes so high an' all. I’ll just need you to answer some questions.” I grab my notebook, pushing my plate away. As long as I have the floor, I prefer to hold it.

The others are frowning in confusion, and Spike and Wesley are gaping. At least they’re not interrupting. “Why do you need… What records?” Wes is usually uneasy when he's confused, right now he's getting high marks for being calmer than I expected.

“The records of vampires who’ve Shanshued. They’re part of the collection we ‘liberated’ from the archives when Travers took over.” I'm talking to Wes, so I'm trying to be gentle. “I’m not sure where the prophecy you got is from, but I must tell you, you've been working from an altered translation.” Hopefully, I sidestepped having to ask why in Hell he'd trust tainted source documents.

I guess none of them are following too well, so I start from the beginning. “Shanshu is a very ancient word, which means essentially, to turn away from supernatural stasis, and live the natural order of life, aging, and death. In very general terms, of course, a direct translation is nearly impossible due to the development of language as we know it. The prophecy foretells the fate of vampires that embrace the value of human life. Again, in very simple terms, a vampire who can prove that they value human life by satisfying certain criteria, including regaining a soul, will be returned to their living form as a reward.”

“Wait just one bloody minute there.” Spike, evidently, got his voice back with a vengeance. “You mean to tell me this has happened before? Then what in the bloody hell was all that stuff about ‘two souled vampires cannot exist in the same time, it's destroying the natural order of the universe’.”

I take a deep breath; I wish I didn’t have to say this in front of poor Wes, his ego is taking a pounding at the mo', but it needs to be said. “Actually, that ‘stuff’ was a buncha bullshit. Wolfram & Hart's smoke and mirrors. The things that happened when you re-corporealized were likely after-effects of the spell they used to bring you back. It could have been worse, other spells might have blown up LA, ripped the space-time continuum, even sent you back to human infancy. Re-corporealizing is tricky shit.”

They all look stunned, and I snag a broccoli floret outta my dish so I have something to do. “What about that thing with the cup?” Spike asks.

“Wha' cup?” I have no clue. Wesley didn’t mention any cup, but I know he had to leave things out, the drive over wasn’t that long. Except, Wes looks like he doesn’t have a clue either. Spike seems okay with my ignorance, and doesn’t ask anything else.

“So wait a minute. Does this mean Spike gets to be human again?” Willow is starting to look kind of excited, and Spike smiles faintly at her.

“Possibly. There's lots of criteria that need to be satisfied, I'll have to look at it again to find out how close Spike and Angel are. It’s possible that you both have a long way to go, or that one or both of you is ready.” By the time I’ve finished my answer I’m looking at him again, and good lord, why does he have to have dimples?

Wes saves me from going glassy-eyed over the vamp by interjecting another question. “So, this has happened before?”

“Well, yeah, of course. The prophecy is ancient, older than the Slayer even, possibly older than the written word. In the time before there was a Slayer, it appears to have happened more frequently. Vampires are, by nature of how they’re created, closer relations to humans than most other demons; although the first vamps who defended humans are thought to have been protecting their food source. Seeing value in humanity as a resource often serves as a first step towards valuing the existence of other species for themselves.”

Merry interrupts me before I can get into a more in-depth overview of the prophecy. “So the Shanshu applies only to vampires, it can’t apply to Slayers, or other demon-human hybrids?”

That’s different. “Um, well, as far as I can remember the language lends itself pretty directly towards vampires, and as I said, it was written before the time of the first Slayer…”

“But Slayers have come back from the dead before.” I really wish she would stop with the goddamn interruptions. “In the old tradition, it was common practice for the Slayer to drink the blood of her demon kills, even the blood of vampires. If the only specific criteria are demon possession and blood drinking, it could apply.”

“I suppose.” I’ve never considered this possibility, but Merry’s the Slayer expert, she’d know if there were a precedent far better than I would. “Do you have a specific case in mind?”

“Yes, actually. In Gaul, about 80 years before the common era, a Slayer died closing a Hellmouth. She came back from the dead, and I mean, literally, she was dead, we’re not talking ‘she’d fallen into a coma before they knew what comas were’. She was disemboweled. Anyway, she came back, but without her powers. Normal human again.”

"Nope, that would have had to be something else; disembowelment isn't a supernatural death."

We all fall silent, because there’s nowhere good this conversation can go with food on the table. Willow’s looking green again; I’m sure hearing about someone being gutted with that bloody steak on the table did nothing for her appetite. I'm actually surprised Merry's kept her food down without being uncomfortable. Thankfully, before conversation can resume the waiter comes back to clear. Spike and Wes order scotch, Merry and I get coffee, and Willow asks for another diet soda.

Wes is the first to break our silence. “So, what other books did you liberate? And why, is the better question?”

I sigh, because I don’t want to fight with Wesley tonight. I’m pissed at him, but for being gullible, not because he’s done anything wrong. “When Quentin Travers took over as head of the Council, he went on a mission to destroy the most ancient records on vampires, mainly anecdotal accounts. He also went after what we call the ‘vampire family tree’. It’s very spotty, and we’ve never gotten confirmations of the accuracy of most of what does exist, but it’s original purpose was to estimate the number of vamps in the world, and their ages. Possibly to discover clues as to why there are variations in their abilities.

“The Council library put many of the records into storage when Travers was announced as the new Head Watcher, whether they meant to keep them off his radar, or to avoid his wrath is anyone's guess. As soon as he stopped accepting specializations in Vampire Lore, we began removing the texts from Council property. As I told you when I chose a new specialization so I could stay with the Council, I had every intention of fighting the changes once I had seniority.” I’m looking at Wes hard enough to bore holes in his scull, hoping this sinks in.

“Imagine if you had no one like me around to tell you which prophecies apply to this situation, and how to tell if a vampire is prepared for Shanshu. If we hadn't saved those texts, you'd be up shit creek right now."

Spike chuckles, and Willow silences him before I can. "Vampires and other demons have history, the same as humans do, the same as the Slayers do. As an organization dedicated to ridding the world of demon threats to humanity, we need to be able to understand that demons have a capacity for good, the same way humans have a capacity for evil. Seeing them in total as instinctive killers makes the Slayer’s job harder. Or in your case, the do-gooding demon fighter's, but still." Wesley has the courtesy to stay quiet at least, but I know damn well that he's disagreed with me on this in the past.

"Look, Wes, I don't want to argue with you. I want to help. All I need right now is information; answer some questions, and tell me where to show up tomorrow." Thankfully, no one buts in, and Wes decides to go along with me. Getting my questions answered is a helluva pain in the ass, but I drag fairly honest answers out of Spike and Wes, sometimes by way of Willow. My boy is surprisingly protective of Angel, nothing like the Wesley of five years ago, who had no use for vampires. He's come a long way.

Once I get my questions answered, I beg off and head for home. It's only 9 p.m., but I'm itching to start work on this. If what I suspect is actually going to happen, it'd be good to have a clue.
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At home again, Laurie is finished with her homework and in bed, but Apple is waiting on the couch. "Hey, you, wanna save the world?" Upbeat works well on Apple, I learned that pretty much right away.

"Don't I save the world before bedtime every day?" She shoots her big gap-toothed grin at me, I just roll my eyes.. "Do I get out of school?" You'd think after all these years as her Watcher, she'd learn I'm not so easy to play. Except, she and Laurie could be a huge help for the research and the fighting, and I refuse to stop them because I'm overprotective. So of course, she's going to get her way.

"Depends; do you wanna spend your time researching and training, or would you rather sit in class?" I can play her right back, thank you. Girl's got no problem doing the research, but she hates training enough to go to school. Complete opposite of Laurie.

Apple stretches and shifts, which knocks the notebook off her lap and pulls her shirt askew. She fumbles to pick up whatever she was working on while she's answering me. "Sure, I'll train a little. What kinda research is that urgent?"

During all the chaos last year; when Apple nearly succumbed to The First, and Mary Alice actually did; I figured we'd all die before we had normal lives again. Of course, three Slayers living in the same house can't remotely be called normal, but it's better than my poor Potential trying to bleed herself to death, while my best friend puts a gun to her head.

I plop down next to Apple. "Have I ever told you about the Shanshu prophecy?"

She gives me a very typically teenage look. "Um, no. Why's this thing so important; Laurie's got a French test tomorrow, ya' know."

I shake my head at her and get ready to explain the whole damn thing, when the phone rings. Of course. At this rate, it's probably the IRS. Still, can't ignore the freakin' thing, it might be Merry. "Y'ellow."

"Jezzie? Hey, it's Penny. Why'd I need to call you back right away; do you have any idea what time it is in Tuscon?"

"Yeah, it's 9:58 here, so it's about 10:58 there. And you're the one just getting home, so don't give me that 'it's too late to call you back' bit."

She chuckles. "Alright, sure, fine, whatever. Wassup?"

"I need you to get me some books as quickly as possible. Right now, if you can find a way. Last I heard, Mindy Westwood had them, so I though they might have been sent to you."

"Yeah, I've got all of her books. All of them; I even have those stupid mystery novels she used to read, her mom just packed up everything and sent it along. What did you need?"

"I need everything you can find on the Aurelian prophecies; specifically the Graanfield texts and the Ptaryet Codices. I need to find out about The End."

"Jesus, you're keeping me awake for this? Jez, you know as well as I do that The End is dependant on the arrival of the Guardians, and the Twin Souls. Now, sure, it would be great if you could figure out the identities of the Guardians. The Twin Souls, though, are an impossibility. I still say, the whole thing is a metaphor. It's never gonna happen."

"Penelope. I don't know how to tell you this, but…The Twin Souls are in LA. The End is coming."

Wesley

Spike's surprised me. I'd never thought he might prepare a backup plan, or any plan for that matter. It seems he's more connected to Buffy's Sunnydale group than Angel informed us. Willow is comfortable around him, and he obviously cares for her. Their story is almost too neat, though; I've gotten the feeling Willow is here at someone else's request. Despite what Spike says, I'm sure that someone is Buffy.

When I left Wolfram & Hart earlier this evening, I was content to remain on the path to torpidity. I only wondered if, once I was dead, I would see Fred again, or if my crimes have been too great, or if she's just…Gone.

I've begun to feel hope since I saw Jezebel again, and I wonder if that's a good thing. It seems disloyal, somehow; as though I don't deserve to win, that perhaps my fate is to die fighting a battle I know I cannot win. Still, that little sliver of hope has been revealed, and I can't help but see it. I remember loving her with all of the enthusiasm and passion of youth, and the memory lightens my heart.

Tonight, Jezebel was a revelation. She had a poise I'd never detected, and her diplomatic skills are worlds from what they were. I suppose time has changed both of us; I remember telling her once that studying vampires was as pointless to a Watcher as studying tigers. They kill; that's all you need to know.

It's hard to imagine I was ever so stupid. She tried to tell me at the time, explain the things she'd learned, but I couldn't listen. Back then, learning vampires could be Champions would have been akin to denying the Council, and I wasn't ready.

I'd underestimated a valuable resource; I knew of several Watchers who resigned when Travers obviated the specialization in Vampire Lore; if not Jezebel, I could have gone to any one of them. Instead, I trusted Wolfram & Hart. Of course, I didn't trust Wolfram & Hart, but I did think myself superior to them; I never suspected they were tampering with documents. I was quite obviously mistaken.

Now, of course, it all makes sense. Sidetrack us, corrupt us, lead us off in the entirely wrong direction on any number of matters, cut us off from assistance; set us up for demoralization and defeat. It would have worked, too, if not for Spike and Willow.
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After Jezebel's departure, we discussed the Shanshu a bit more, until Willow pointed out that none of us knew what we were talking about, and there was no point wasting our energy when we were facing a 'potentially world-ending event'. Still, I would have liked to speak to Angel; it would have been good to give him some warning, to ease his mind about his place in the prophecy.

We'd fallen into silence, each in our own little worlds, when Meredith addressed Spike. "So, William Spenser. When, exactly, did you regain your memories?"

I looked up quickly enough to catch Spike panicking, before he could carefully re-school his features into disinterest. I'd spent enough time with him over the last few months that I could tell the difference between actual boredom, and his 'I don't want you sods to know I'm interested' boredom. "Luv, you've gone sack o' hammers. No clue what you're on about."

She rolled her eyes tryingly. "Oh, stuff, William. Over the course of the evening you've mentioned things you couldn't have known without your memories. Jezebel believes the spell was broken when you were turned. Is that so?"

"No it's not bloody so!" Spike replied, sounding actually hurt, at the same moment that Willow asked.

"What spell?"

Meredith shook her head. "You've never told anyone? Bloody hell, that's an awful thing to have to deal with alone." I'd noticed that the girl had been wary of Spike, but seemed increasingly sympathetic.

Spike squinted at her, as if sizing her up, then looked back and forth between Willow and myself. "Look, I wasn't alone; someone was there, and she knows the whole thing. My 'dealing' is none of your concern. It's not your business, and it's bloody well none of theirs."

Spike stood. "I'm sorry to leave you like this, but I'm afraid I have a prior engagement. Red, Watcher, call me if you need anything, phone'll be on." He turned back to Meredith. "Keep your big gob shut. You and me 're gonna have words if we make it out of this thing." She nodded somberly. He met her eyes for a moment, then nodded. "Good luck."

Spike dropped a Wolfram & Hart charge card on the table in front of me, and left without another word. I watched him go, trying to figure out what the bloody hell had just happened. "And I ask again, what spell?" Willow nudged Meredith, whose attention was evidently focused on Spike's departing back the way mine had been until I heard Willow's voice.

Meredith blinked and shook herself back to attention. "Well, evidently, I'm not supposed to tell you." She glanced at the door Spike had left through. "Bloody hell. Alright, I won't tell you much; no reason to antagonize the vamp more than we need to. All you need to know, is that something terrible happened to William about 10 years before he was turned, and his memory was erased. We'd suspected a link between William Spenser and William the Bloody, but never been able to prove it. The evidence was mostly circumstantial; like, maybe, but not compelling. Evidently, we were right. And he remembers it all, now."

Willow looked less confused than I felt, so I kept my mouth shut and ordered coffee when the waitress came back. The girls did the same, and again we lapsed into silence. The next time our silence was broken, Willow spoke up. "I don't know what the heck is going on, but I think I can answer your original question."

Meredith and I both looked at Willow as she continued. "I did a Tabula Rasa spell a couple of years ago; it kinda went kerpluey, and it was only supposed to be directed at one person, but instead it struck the whole group of us, including me. Of course, then the spell got broken, and we all got better, but everyone was really mad at me, especially Buffy and Tara, although no one else seemed happy about it, either. And… Well, anyway, when I was researching the spell later, to figure out what went wrong, I read something that said lifting the spell can also lift other memory-erase spells. Like, it can open doors to forgotten memories and stuff. I think that must have been when it happened."

Meredith nodded. "Was there any noticeable change in him? After the spell, I mean?"

"Well, he was more quiet for a while, but I always figured that was because he'd been accepted when we didn't remember what he was, and once we remembered everything, like that time he kidnapped me to try to get me to do a love spell for him; well, anyway, I guess I just thought he was feeling rejected." Willow frowned a little bit. "Also, I'm not sure where this fits on the strange-behavior-of-Spike meter, but it wasn't long after that that he and Buffy got together."

"Hold on; he got with the Slayer?" Meredith looked like her eyes were about to bug out of her head. "Wow. I mean; good God, that's got to be the most unlikely thing I've ever heard! No, you must be wrong. His memories totally must have come back before that."

I finally couldn't hold my tongue any longer. "Meredith, why is it important?"

She sighed. "It's just… Why do you trust him? I mean, I've heard all of these seemingly contradictory things about him, and last I heard he was one mean S.O.B. with a few redeeming qualities, and here he is hanging out with humans and trying to keep the world from ending, and he's a candidate for Shanshu, and he's... A bloody nice bloke."

She looked confused, and I knew very much how she felt; I'd been in this place with both Spike and Angel at one time or another. It was incredibly difficult to have your beliefs ripped out from under you like the proverbial rug.

"It's like…It makes no sense. I know Jezzie always said he was an anomaly among vampires, but he's still nothing like she described him. I guess it's just that, you know, I'm not all vampire obsessed like Jezzie, and I don't know anything pertinent other than what she's told me, so I guess I just need to know. Why do you trust him?" Meredith looked to Willow with big eyes; hoping, I suppose, for support from the person who seemed to know Spike best.

Willow's eyes looked far away, reliving memories, I suppose. It took a minute, but eventually she began to speak. "When we first met Spike, he was just like what you've probably heard about him. He has this imposing presence, and the sarcasm and all that. The first time we saw him, Buffy and Xander and I, he was watching from the shadows as Buffy fought another vamp, and once she'd dusted the other guy he stepped out from the shadows and, well, applauded. He was creepy, and threatening and everything; like the perfect bad guy, like something out of a movie."

"The only thing he cared about was Drusilla. Well, he also cared about killing Buffy. But when push came to shove, he gave up on killing Buffy so that he could have Drusilla back. Which is kind of a long story, why he needed to get her back and all. When he came back to Sunnydale, after Drusilla left him, he was…Devastated. I felt bad for him, an evil vampire, because he obviously loved her.

"Over the years, he became like an acquaintance, or a casual friend, and then eventually a good friend. When he was chipped; see, he used to have this chip in his brain, and he couldn't hurt humans; we all started spending a lot more time with him, because he came to us for help.

"I don't know how he does it, but he's very perceptive. Sometimes it's like he knows what you're thinking before you do. He's also very honest, always has been, even when he was soulless. Sometimes he's too honest, in a mind-your-own-beeswax kinda way, which he never used to do; because, well, he was evil and stuff.

"It got to be, well, for me anyway, that he was part of the group. He protected us, and cared about us, although some more than others. He and Dawn, Buffy's little sister… He loves Dawn like she was his own sister. And when Buffy was…Gone, he took really good care of Dawn. And he was a good friend to Tara and I then, too; we all had the same pain, and he tried to help us, which is what convinced me that he felt the same loss as the rest of us."

Willow was getting choked up. Meredith didn't look like she was following too well, but I knew enough to piece the whole thing together. I hadn't thought of it in years, but Spike did jump out as I escorted Dawn home one night, to deliver her birthday present. He's been changing, and none of us really noticed.

Willow's voice picked back up. "Spike loved my best friend, probably still does, and I know she still loves him. My girlfriend cared about him, and he cared about her. He even saved her from her own family, when they wanted to lock her away. When the First Evil had taken over his mind, Spike was strong enough to resist killing Buffy, because he couldn't bear to hurt her. They broke up the first time because, well, it's complicated, but Buffy was hurting, and... Well, that's a really long story not meant for…Nevermind, forget I said anything.

"Anyway, he loves Buffy and Dawn, and at very least cared about Tara and Anya and I. He never really hurt us, even before he got his soul, well, not physically, I did have some nightmares, but at least he never killed my goldfish. He tried to eat me once, when he first got the chip, and he was so upset that he couldn't bite me that I ended up comforting him." Willow giggled a bit at the memory. "He's just… Once you get to know him, even without a soul; even if he'd never admit that he's a nice, emotional guy with a stake to his heart, he is."

Merry still looked confused, but she nodded. I was rather surprised that Willow had been so verbose, and mostly coherent, in defending Spike. Willow's admission that Spike and Buffy loved one another was also a shock. He needled Angel about the Slayer occasionally, and Gunn had tried to pull information about Buffy from Spike, but mostly Spike didn't mention her.

"So, what you're saying is that based on the fact that your girl and your friends are okay with him, you are, too?" Merry arched an eyebrow at Willow.

Willow turned beet red, but didn't stutter or equivocate when she answered. "I have other friends who hate Spike, who refuse to trust him, so I'm not exactly following the crowd on this one. He's proven himself to me more times than I can count. And Tara was the best judge of character I've ever known. I trust Spike because he has a heart filled with love, even if he tries to cover it up sometimes."
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I reviewed Willow's diatribe regarding Spike in my head while driving home. I'd not kept in touch with Rupert, so I missed many of the things Willow mentioned. I'd had little experience with Spike before last June. Granted, since the ghost of the souled vampire appeared in Angel's office, he'd shown himself to be different than I remembered. I'd attributed it to his having a soul, but...

As I pull the motorpool car back into the garage at Wolfram & Hart, on my way to pick up supplies for Illyria, my thoughts turn from Slayers and vampires and Shanshu, toward the coming apocalypse. What had Willow called it earlier, a 'potentially world-ending event'? I suppose after you've survived more than one apocalypse, they lose a sense of immediacy to some people.

Willow:

I was really tired by the time I got back to the hotel. Merry offered to come up and help with the spells, but I asked her to just drop me off. Because, I could use the help, but she makes me nervous. She’s pretty. I mean, she’s also smart, and all Watcher-ly, and a little unsteady around vampires, which is kinda funny after so many years around Angel and Spike, and helping Buffy patrol and everything…Okay babbling now. No babbling, no time for it. Must push pretty flirting Watcher girl outa my mind and focus. Focus on protections spells, and call Gretchen about Lindsay.

Wesley decided to let me take care of their Lindsay problem; by which I mean I’m sending him to Rio, not that I’m gonna ‘take care of’ him a la Mafia. I’m focused-Wicca right now; I can handle the disposal of the sometimes-evil kinda-wizard. No problem. Well, maybe a teensy little problem. A problem-ette, even. I’m scared of failing. More terrified than scared, but I think understatement is the way to go.

So, I sit on the couch, and do what I do nowadays when I’m scared. Which happens a lot, even if it’s just about the test I’m writing up. I take deep breaths, center myself, and focus on drawing into myself a core of peace. I feel the balance of things, the inherent centrality of all living things, flow through me, and I take its measure and acknowledge that my path is straight. While Angel’s plan is borderline suicidal and verging on wrong, my part will do no harm; I can achieve success, and create no imbalance by my actions.

Then I call Gretchen, and find out what I need to know about holding Lindsay in Rio safely, because I’ve confirmed that what Wesley felt is true; that left here in LA, Lindsay will either die in battle or be destroyed by hatred. He loves, and he can be redeemed, but he can also be selfish, and power hungry, and his rage clouds his judgment. Like Spike, except with poorer skills of deduction.

I always feel better after I’ve spoken to Gretchen; she’s what I’ve always wanted in a Mom. She cares about me, which my Mom does too, except less with the awareness of my problems; my Mom I mean, not Gretchen. Gretchen is Mom-like in the way she listens, and soothes, and watches out for me, and offers practical advice without being emotionally unavailable. Which reminds me, I should go up to San Bernadino and see my parents if I live through this.

Once Gretchen and I have confirmed that I have the correct spells ready, that I can do this on my own, and that she can handle Lindsay and Eve once I get them to her, I head out.

I miss Buffy. I mean, I know everyone else has important things to do; but here I am, you know, all by myself. Buffy would have never let me go off by myself to meet an…Well, I guess he’s not an enemy. But still. She would have come along in case a fight broke out, or just to keep me company, because she’s my friend.

Spike’s sitting on the hood of a black sports car in the valet parking circle when I come out of the hotel. Part of me is shocked. Part of me, not so much. “’Ello, Red. Fancy a ride?”

He arches his scarred eyebrow at me, and I can’t help but smile, even though my insides are all fearful and jello-y. “Sure, Spike.” I nod, and he jumps down and holds the door for me while I get in the car. Which makes me wonder about the things Jezebel and Merry said at dinner, the few things Buffy told me after Sunnydale. Spike was William Spenser, a Victorian gentleman, in a life long ago. Will he change if he turns human? Will he still care about our fight? Will he still love Buffy? And could he and Buffy really be together, if he were human; or is there already too much water under that bridge? Will he even remember us, once he’s human again, or will it be like the last hundred and so-many years never happened?

Spike pulls away from the hotel before he starts to talk. “Wesley called and filled me in on the big happening tonight. Angel’s doing his own thing, trying to make it look like he’s on his own; we’re meeting at my apartment around 5:00 a.m., if you wanna give the big ponce some advance warning you’re on the team. Or not, either way. Still, thought you could use some help, someone to watch your back and such. W’ot ‘re you gonna do once we get there?”

I take a deep breath. Right, focus on the task at hand, get it done, then move on to the next thing. Try to keep things in order, go slow, don’t panic, stay calm. “Well, first I’ll do a protection spell to keep outside forces from interfering, then I’ll try to reason with them; if I can’t get them to come quietly, I’ll freeze them. Either way, I’ll open the portal in the apartment, and send them to Rio. Gretchen will do the binding once they’re there.”

“And then?” I look at Spike, trying to puzzle out exactly what he means.

“Then…Well, then I go back to the hotel, get a few hours of sleep, and get ready to meet you, with protection spells at the ready. I mean, I’m not sure you guys’ll need me for much. Just a few protection spells, and some moral support. Hey, I just thought of something. Once this is over, do we have someplace to go to? I mean, can we all fit in your apartment? Well, I guess we can, since people will be there tonight. Wes mentioned he was going back to your place once he left the office. He said he was picking up some things. Do you know what he was picking up? Should I pick up some things, maybe magic supplies, or pillows, or doughnuts? And…”

“’Right, Red, take a breath, will you?” Spike snarks. “Look, I’m sure you know what you’re doing. With the magic, I mean. Buffy trusts you. Once Angel lets us know where he wants us, I’m counting on you to figure out where to send the girls, right? The pouf’s in charge, and Wes and I will guide you a bit, but you’re gonna be key tomorrow. You’re in charge of more than just a few spells. You’re the girl with the reinforcements. Know Buffy’s usually the Generalissimo, but you need to pull it together for me, Red. Can’t have you falling apart, now. We’re gonna need your strengths in this fight, just as much as anyone else's. More, even.”

Wow. He’s good at the pep talk thing. I wonder how much of that he got from Buffy, and how much of it she got from him. “Hey, Spike. I know we’ve never been close, not really, I mean. Not to talk, and stuff. But you’re really good at it. Talking, I mean.”

“’S the truth. We don’t just need magic. We need you. I’m glad you’re here, Red. No one else I’d rather have.”

I smile. I’ll bet I can think of someone, or a few someones, he’d rather be talking to right now; better leaders, people he’s closer to. “Except, Buffy.”

Spike smiles, and it’s a sad kind of smile, filled with regrets. The kind Buffy gets when anyone mentions him. “Yeah, it would be great if she were here.”

I keep expecting him to say more, so I stay quiet. Which is a major effort, since I’m bursting with questions. But he doesn’t, and before I know it, we’re pulling up in front of a cute little apartment building.

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Getting Lindsay to break his promise to help Angel and go hide out in Rio with Eve is insultingly easy. They’re both ready to get out, to try and rebuild their lives.

Gretchen is at the other end of the portal to take them off my hands, and I trust her judgment, so I refuse to think about what Lindsay can do in a building full of under-trained Slayers if he’s hell bent on evil. I’m just happy to have someone with more experience available to watch out for them; and that we got him out of LA before Angel’s final strategy session. If he’s gonna go with the badness, at least he doesn’t know details.

I’m taking a lot on faith from Spike and Wesley, and I hope it doesn’t come back to bite me in the butt. Of course, Buffy did ask me to be here, and I don’t want to disappoint her, and she trusts Spike, and I trust her, so I guess I need to just trust Spike. I hope he’s trustworthy. I have lots of hopes. Lots of hopes and worries, and I’m still terrified.

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Spike was quiet during the meeting with Lindsay and Eve; he let me take the lead. Not sure I love that, but what am I supposed to do? I could call Buffy, or Angel, or I could even call Faith in Cleveland; of course, she would bring Robin, who still hates Spike, and he’d accidentally-on-purpose try to kill him.

Spike is still not inclined to make conversation, and my mind is racing, worrying about tomorrow. I need a distraction before I panic again. So, I jump on a topic and hope for the best. “So, you had your memories erased.? When you were human, I mean.”

Spike white-knuckles the steering wheel, and I hold my breath. I mean, I kinda like the guy, but scary demon angry with me, not of the good. “Well.” Spike finally speaks, and his voice is strained, but quiet, and I relax a little. It seems like he’s calmed down, I hope. “Wasn’ expecting you to ask that, guess I shouldn’ be surprised, though. Yeah, my memories were erased.”

Okay, maybe I didn’t ask that, right. Maybe I shouldn’t ask at all. That was not a happy, lets-dish-the-dirt kind of reaction. Then again, maybe he wants to talk about it, and he thinks I’m just asking for something to talk about. Which I’m not, I mean, sure, I’m looking for something to take my mind off the once-again-impending end of the world, but it’s not that I don’t want to know.

“Spike, you know, you can talk to me if you want. I won’t tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about. I mean, unless you don’t want to talk about it, which is fine, you don’t need to talk to me…Or…Or, we can talk about other stuff. Like, read any good books, lately?”

I've been watching his face, and if you didn't know Spike, you would think he was a little tense. Of course, I know him well enough, so I know that he's a lot tense. Over the years, I've heard a lot about Spike's unlife. More than I wanted to, especially during drunken rages, or when he held broken bottles to my face. Well, bottle, really, since it was only that once.

I've never really heard anything about his life as a human before. Buffy said something about the trigger being his Mom, when the First planted that trigger in his brain; but she only mentioned it in passing, I'm not even sure she knew the details.

Spike sighs. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye. "You wanna get some coffee, Red?"

I need coffee like I need a hole in my head, but Spike seems willing to talk, and something tells me I should listen. "Um, wanna come back to the hotel instead, and order room service? Or is that too much? Or, we can hit Starbucks instead, if you want."

Spike continues driving without responding, and I'm tempted, but I don't ask. I remember Dawn saying once that the best way to get Spike to talk was to wait him out, and I've been taking that to heart tonight. Of course, it hasn't been working as well as I'd hoped; I've said too much, and he's barely said anything, but I'm gonna keep trying. There are so many things I need to know, and surprisingly few of them have to do with the upcoming possible end of the world.

I've spent years trying to solve the mystery of Spike and Buffy. They hate one another, they defend one another; they're friends, they're lovers, they're uneasy allies. I'd decided that I may as well give up trying to figure the whole thing out, because the few pieces of information grieving-Buffy let drop in the last year or so just made me more confused than I was before.

Then again, maybe Spike can help me piece together a few things. When he said earlier that one person knew about him regaining his memories, I was almost certain that he meant Buffy. And she never mentioned it to me, even though we talked about Spike a few times.

"Willow." I was startled when Spike began to talk again. I'm pretty sure I jumped a little bit. "The story of what happened when I was alive, how I lost my memories…It paints a lot of people in a right nasty light. Might distract you, all this worrying over me, what with a big battle coming up tomorrow. So I'll tell you, if you really want to know. But you've gotta understand, this goes no further. Buffy knows as much as I'm gonna say to anyone, and she's kept her peace about it. I'm not ready…"

Spike sinks back into silence, and he's ready to crush the steering wheel again, so I keep quiet, too. I think that was the closest I've ever seen sober Spike come to rambling. Whatever the heck he's gonna tell me, it's not pleasant, and it's personal. That much I know. Also, that Buffy knows, and never said a word about it to anyone.

Sometimes, I feel really bad for Buffy. There's so much she keeps inside, she doesn't really talk to me, I'm sure she talks to Xander even less. I know she seems fine, but maybe having me know about whatever this is, and being able to talk to her about it, will help her to trust me more, make things more like they used to be. When she let me help shoulder some of her burdens.

"I do want to hear the story, Spike. And I think maybe you need to tell it." I'm taking a leap of faith, here, watch me leap! "I want you to know that you can trust me with whatever this is. I'm Buffy's friend, but I'm your friend, too, Spike."

He turns his gaze away from the road, and flashes me a quick smile. "Thanks, Red."

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When we're settled in the living room of my suite with room service coffee, tea, and cookies, Spike is still radiating nervous energy. He's wandered around the room for almost half an hour, poking at things, touching the plants and paintings. I have no idea if he's looking for something, or just nervous.

I've never seen him like this. I mean, I never tried to have a serious, personal conversation with him back in Sunnydale. I tried to ignore him after he refused to settle down on the couch, but his prowling is just fascinating, somehow.

Finally, he pours himself some coffee, which I really don't think he needs, and drops onto the couch across from me. Rearranging the pillows with one hand as he sips his drink, he eventually reclines against the arm of the couch, slouching and pulling one knee up, while the other dangles off, his foot on the floor. "How much do you know about Victorian England, Red?"

Is this a trick question? "Well, Victoria was Queen of England from 1837 to…"

"'S not what I meant, Red. What about how society worked, the state of British nobility, marriage and family structure, things like that?" He studies my face for a moment, then continues. "Right, well I suppose that's neither here nor there. Pertinent points: marriage worked a bit differently, back then. Women weren't allowed out into society until they were 18, if they were part of the upper crust of society, and they were expected to marry within the next year or two, to men they barely knew. You would have been an old maid by now, back then." Spike winks, and I laugh. I have no idea where this is going, but I'm intrigued. "Also, children were kept away from adult things, but were expected to act like little adults. Quiet play was the order of the day, supervised by a governess or nanny. Your parents would come visit once or twice a day, and parade you in front of guests for a minute of introductions before they sent you back off." He settles in a bit more comfortably, and continues to talk.

"Anyway, I was raised a bit differently than most in those days. Those were the early years of compulsory education, you know; home tutoring was going the way of the dodo. Except that my father and some others believed in secluding their children. We were brought up apart from society; with home tutors and fencing instructors, and we had the company of one another. There was a group of us, all ran together, all fairly close in age. Our parents would hold outings and activities; we went for picnics, went hunting, had formal dinners. This was my whole life, you understand. We weren't kept out of the room during adult time, the way children were in those days. We were all right there in the thick of it. There were always little kids running underfoot, and often teenagers and adults running right along after them."

It sounds fairly normal and boring to me, but the look on Spike's face says this is part of the important stuff, so I pay attention. "I knew that most of our fathers worked together, some of our grandfathers, too. I even had a spinster great-aunt who worked with them." Spike meets my eyes. "They all worked at the Council of Watchers."

Okay, color me shocked. Shocked Red, that's me. Spike's father, who I've never even heard mentioned, was a Watcher? And he never once before brought it up, not even to bait Giles? Wow. I seem to be saying wow a lot, but I can't seem to think of a better word. Maybe wowie? I mean, how often does the son of a Watcher end up having their memory erased, then getting turned into a vampire?

"M' father died when I was ten, and my mother was heartbroken. She fired my tutors, and sent me off to boarding school, so I could meet new people, so she wouldn't have to face his friends, who she felt were responsible for his death." Spike took a deep breath. "I knew he died doing something work related, but I had no idea what. I was too young to understand what being a Watcher meant, and me Mum wanted me out of it, she didn't want me to follow in his footsteps."

Spike leaned forward to refill his empty coffee cup, stretching his shoulders as he moved. "I was home from school again within the month. I was ahead of the other boys in some subjects, some by years. In others I was years behind." He met my eyes. "What I had was an extensive knowledge of Latin, ancient Greek, History, and Geography. I knew very little math or science, not even with what passed for math and science at the time, and I didn't know the sports and games the other students did. Also, they thought I was crazy when I asked about demon languages, or potions, or sword fighting."

"They were training you to be a Watcher!" I can't help interrupting. I can't picture Spike as a Watcher. Especially not a ten-year-old Watcher who spoke Greek.

He nods. "I had no idea that my education was anything unusual, because up until I went away to school, all of my friends knew the same things I did. The rise of the middle class, coinciding with changes within the Council, had led us into isolation. My mother didn't want me living in their world, but I had no choice, really."

Spike shook his head. "Finally, after I'd scared off two private, non-Council tutors with my talk of battle axes and learning Gloxon, she took me to the Council, and asked them to begin teaching me again. That was the first time I really understood what they were.

"You see, Red, back then, the Council was about more than just training the Slayer. They were the keepers of the bloodline, the knowledge of where the first Slayer came from, and they were very serious about traditions and family. Because, in order to be a Watcher, in those days, at least, you had to have a certain pedigree."

Spike looked uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable, like he expected me to bolt at any minute. "You remember what Buffy said when she went into the shadow-dimension-thingy, back in Sunnydale. About those men putting a demon into the first Slayer? Well, that's not the story they told me.

"When my Mum took me to the Council elders, they decided that I needed to understand why I was different than the rest of the boys I'd met at school. They told me that the first Slayer was a demon-human hybrid, born of a tribe of those like herself. That the Slayer line carried through her family, down through the generations. And that the Council of Watchers was comprised of members of the same family. That we were all descended from members of the same tribe of part-demons, and that it was our familial duty to assist and protect the mission of the Slayer, as well as the safety of the family as a whole. My family's place in the Council meant I was part demon, and it was my duty to keep that secret, to protect my own. But they gave me a choice. I could go out into the world, and have another life; they would prepare me for another go at school. Or I could join them."

Spike stopped speaking, staring into his coffee cup. I would have asked a question, but I had no idea where to start. Spike was part demon, before he was a vampire? The Watcher's Council was made up of demons? None of the things he was saying seemed to fit into my reality, how could Giles be part demon? There were a million thoughts chasing one another around in my head, but not one of them would sit still long enough for me to form a question. After a few minutes of silence, Spike sat back and started talking again.

"I was so excited, to know that I had a mission in life, that I wasn't crazy or strange, that all of the other kids I'd grown up with were the same as me. I decided to continue working with them, learning from them. When I'd gone to school, you know, that was the first time I'd ever felt awkward, or strange, or different. I'd started to think that something was wrong with me, and it was such a relief to know there was nothing wrong with me other than not being entirely human." He chuckled. "I guess it says a bit about the world I lived in that I never thought being part demon was a bad thing. It was just the way things were, you know? I was just part of a family with some weird genes, like those people with big ears, or webbed toes.

"Anyway, I went back to my studies, and began attending social functions with the old group again. For a few years, everything was normal, quiet. I was content, and my Mum was alright with my decision in the end. Then I came into my powers. One day I woke up, and it was like I'd woken up for the first time. I could hit harder, run faster, hear and see better. I only needed glasses for reading, not all the time like I had before. I was so happy at first.

"Then, I was brought before the Council elders again. As it turns out, a member of the Council coming into full demon powers was rare. All of us had the heritage, but most of us were more human than demon. I was more demon, as it turns out." He looked up and met my eyes. "This is where the hard part starts. You can bow out now, if you don't think you can handle it."

I'm really wigged. Here's Spike, rattling on about demons working for the Watcher's Council, gaining demon powers when he was a human boy, with some weird little factoids about life in Victorian England thrown in for no apparent reason, and there was a hard part? Hard as in hard for him to tell, or hard for me to hear? And how did all of this weird stuff lead up to him having his memories erased?

I looked into Spike's eyes, and saw nothing but the truth of what he was saying. I looked inside myself, pulled myself into alignment with the earth, and saw that he was, above all else, an honest man, who was sharing his story with me. I had to respect his need to tell, and for some reason outside of the coming apocalypse, I needed to hear, even if I didn't know why yet. "Go ahead, Spike, I can handle it."

He smiled at me faintly, and poured himself more coffee as he continued his tale. "When I came into my powers, it confirmed something that the Council had known ever since I was born, but that they had never told my mother or I. I had what they called 'strong blood'. Girls with strong blood, they called Potentials. Because of the way the Slayer line carried on, a girl would not have come into her powers the way I had. They only got their powers if they were Called, if they became the Slayer. Boys of strong blood, on the other hand, came into their powers at adolescence. At that point, we would be assigned to one of the Potentials. As her mate. That was how they kept the bloodlines intact.

"So, at 13, I found myself pledged to a ten-year-old girl named Emily Worthington. It was…Strange, to say the least. I hardly saw her for the first year, just across the table at dinner and such. She was adorable, even at that age I could see her as aesthetically pleasing. But she was a child, she had no clue what was going on. I didn't understand sex myself at that point, didn't really grasp what they meant by 'mates'. We were so very young, it seemed like we had forever until we needed to worry about it. When I saw her I would go and say hello, but then I went off with my friends.

"Then, one day, Emily's father came to call. Mr. Worthington had two sons, one my age, one a year older, as well as his daughter; and he felt that with no male influence in my mother's house, it would be best for me to live with them. Mum was reluctant, but agreed eventually, and so I ended up moving into the Worthington house.

"Emily's brothers, Duncan and Mike, became my best friends, like brothers of my own. We trained together, took lessons together; the three of us were practically inseparable. For about another year and a half, Emily was on her own a lot. We saw her at dinner, and at parties with the rest of our friends. I'd never been particularly close to her, but I learned to treat her with the same affection her brothers did. She was sweet, and quiet, and a good girl. She had beautiful long red hair, and big green eyes. Even at twelve, when most kids are awkward and funny looking, she was graceful and beautiful."

Spike's eyes looked far away, like he'd forgotten I was in the room. I couldn't even begin to imagine what he was describing. I thought of myself at ten; engaged to be married? I still thought boys had cooties at that point. At 13? I'd had a crush on Xander, but sex was a big mystery, I'd had only a vague idea how it worked.

Spike drew my attention back to himself as he continued. "As I got older, and understood more of what would happen, I was a bit resentful. Felt like I should have gotten to choose my own bloody wife, thank you very much. But I also understood that the Council had done a lot of research to ensure we weren't too closely related, and made sure that we were close in age as possible, so that I wouldn't have to wait forever to claim her. I cared about Emily like a sister, and she was attractive enough, so I didn't protest too much; plenty of people married without love in those days, at least between us there was affection.

"After Emily turned 14, she began to spend more time with us. She was a Potential Slayer, and we were the men of her family, so it was considered our job to assist in her training, and to help her carry out her duties."

Spike chuckled. "You should have seen it, Red. There we were, three grown men at 17 and 18, well into the sewing of our wild oats, thinking we were big and bad because we had this special destiny. She whipped our asses, every day of the first week she trained with us. Wiped the floor with all three of us, then trotted off to her needlepoint. I think by Friday I was falling in love with her." He was grinning, and I couldn't help but laugh at the look on Spike's face. I can't picture him as a teenager, head over heels for his first love, but he's happy remembering it.

"I couldn't figure out how she was doing it, so I asked to train with her. Her trainer, her Watcher, was named Andrew Smith. Andrew was…Larger than life, I guess you’d say. He’d never come into full demon powers, but he was stronger than your average guy, and better trained. Didn’t take me long to figure out that Emily was besotted with him. She did everything he said, trying to please him, wanting to be the best Slayer ever, so’s he would be proud of her.

“It was my first taste of jealousy. I’d never thought I’d have to fight for Emily’s affections, I just assumed she had the same ideas I did on our marriage; that we’d do it because our family wanted us to.

“Emily, though, wasn’t such a quiet little angel once you got to know her. She wanted things her own way, wanted to call all the shots. And she was the best damn fighter I’d ever seen. I’d failed to impress her, so she wasn’t interested. She wanted a man of her choice, and I realized that unless she wanted me, wanted to be with me, then there was no way I’d ever really have her, even if her father forced her to the alter.

“So, I started to work with them. I was stronger than either of them, but I’d never had to all-out fight anyone who could effectively deflect me. I’d spent years holding back; afraid I would hurt my instructors, or my friends. And there was Andrew, who was strong in his own right, and trained to go up against demons, trained to get into an opponent’s weak spot, to identify and exploit weaknesses. He had field experience, he knew how to survive a fight, and he knew how to teach. He’s been teaching Emily everything; swords, staffs, crossbow, hand to hand, and weapons I’d still never heard of after training my whole life.”

Spike fidgeted a bit. “Red, you mind if I smoke?” He dug in his pocket, not waiting for my reply. When he looked up I nodded, not wanting to open my mouth. Where I’d had no questions before, now I could barely keep them all inside. I knew there was more to the story, so I kept silent, hoping for him to continue. He lit the cigarette and slid the unused saucer to his cup onto his knee before he continued.

“I got my ass beat a lot at first. Andrew wasn’t a brawler; he was a trained killing machine. It was like being a street punk and fighting a Marine. I was stronger, he had the skill. Unless I got a lucky shot, I lost. But after a while, I learned. I stayed on my feet longer, learned which shots to take, and which to resist taking. I got better, quickly. I was slowly earning their respect, and learning a lot about fighting, but Emily was still all focused on Andrew, as far as romance went. She’d impressed me with her fighting skills, but I figured after a while that it would be almost impossible to impress her the same way. She was just too far ahead of me, knew too much.

“So I decided to romance her. Most couples back then couldn’t spend any time alone together, couldn’t even sit together in a corner in a crowded room. I was allowed to focus my attention on her a bit more than I would have been able to, were we part of mainstream society.

“Even as far out of the mainstream as we were, I still had to keep something of a distance. We were a bit better off, in that I could corner her at a dinner, or ask her to dance. I started bringing her gifts, silly things at first, then special, more meaningful things as I got to know her. She was an amazing woman. She was smart, and headstrong, and an incredible flirt. She liked cats, and hyacinths, and the water, she loved to swim or go rowing. I would seek her out, just to hold out her chair. I offered to help her study, or untangle her threads when she sewed. She loved to do needlepoint; she could have gotten out of doing it, but she enjoyed the quiet once in a while. In short, I was always underfoot, acting like a completely lovesick idiot.” Spike and I both chuckled at that. This, at last, sounded familiar, something I could relate to the Spike I knew.

“It took me almost a year, but finally she returned my feelings. Maybe she had before that, but it took her that long to tell me about it, anyway. We were out in a rowboat, on the lake near her father’s country estate, and she told me, just as it she were finishing a previous conversation, that she couldn’t wait to be my wife, because she loved me so much. I remember that feeling so clearly. It was like she was the only woman in the world, and I could want nothing more than to live and die at her side.”

Spike fell quiet again, lost in memories. It sounded wonderful, and all too familiar, the feeling he’d just described. That was how I’d felt after the first time Tara told me she loved me. Like everything was perfect, like I’d just been given the most precious gift I was ever going to get. I’d felt something similar with Oz, but that idyllic feeling, that I associated with Tara, even if she wasn’t my true first love.

“We planned the wedding for her 20th birthday, because no Slayer had ever been called after they turned 20, and she was afraid that she would leave me alone with a child if we rushed to get married then. She was 15 at the start of our true engagement, that summer, so it was a long time to wait, but she was adamant, and spoiled rotten by all of us, not least of all me, and so she arranged things the way she wanted them. Emily promised that after we were married, she would stop patrolling, that she would stay at home, and help train another Potential perhaps, but not go out into the fight anymore.”

“Wait a minute, she was patrolling? Before she was the Slayer?” I really couldn’t help interrupting. After the house full of Potentials in Sunnydale, after the last few months spent working with new Slayers, the thought of sending a Potential out patrolling without a small army of helpers by her side seemed bizarre.

Spike seemed utterly unconcerned by the idea. “Of course. There weren’t the types of training facilities available back then that there are today. Actually fighting vamps was the best training available. And Emily was good; she dusted several a night, sometimes.”

His expression darkened, and I knew. This next part was what we’d been leading up to, all this time. The end of the story, the part that I really needed to hear. “I’d been patrolling with Emily and Andrew, on and off since I started training with them. Mainly they took me along to help clean out nests, or to fight the larger demons.

“I didn’t have the experience to know it at the time, but Andrew had something of a God complex. He thought he was invincible, and because he’d been training Emily since she was small, he was over-confident in her abilities as well. We got into some sticky situations, things we should have stayed away from. Emily thought it was all a great adventure, she loved slaying. She had quite a wild side to her, she loved to dance. We even had a few, what you would call ‘make out sessions’, which was so far outside the line of propriety that if we’d been caught we’d likely have been marched to church the next morning. But just about everything was an adventure to her, and I wanted her enough not to be scared, enough to be stupid about it.

“Part of me was terrified that she’d be called, and refuse to marry me. I felt in my heart that she would be the next Slayer, that was how good a fighter she was, how graceful, how good a leader. Then she would throw her arms around me and tell me that she loved me, and I knew nothing could keep me away from her.

“One night, Andrew took Emily out for a routine patrol. We’d been engaged for almost a year, she was 16, I’d just turned 20. We’d had a fight, because her father wanted us to move up the wedding. He’d reminded us none too gently that we were supposed to be making babies, not strolling in the garden together, and four more years was too long to wait. I was inclined to agree with him, that we should just get it over with, and live without the fear of her calling hanging over us. Emily was still adamant that she didn’t want to have children, only to die and leave them. So I stayed home from patrol that night, I thought a little fighting would help her calm down, then we could discuss things the next morning like two rational adults.

“But the next morning, there was no Emily, and no Andrew. They never came home.” Spike’s voice is tight, and he takes a moment to collect himself. “Later, we discovered that they’d tracked a vamp back to its nest, and Emily decided to rush in after. Andrew couldn’t stop her, and sent the carriage driver to the Council for backup before going in after her, but it was too late. They both died.”

There are tears trickling down his face as he continues, and I remember that the last time I saw him cry, it was over Buffy’s body, and I suspect it was also before he had this memory. “I was enraged. I made myself sick with anger. No one deserved to be alive while my Emily was in the ground, least of all me. I was miserable, and made everyone around me miserable, too.

“And then the Council stepped in, and called me before the elders. I was still young, they said. There were other Potentials who needed mates, and it was time for me to move on. Hopefully I would have better luck getting a child on the next one.”

I gasp, and start crying myself. I’ve seen how Spike loves, how he gives of himself. I’ve seen Spike mourn two loves, one who died, and one who walked out. How anyone could tell him to forget his love, and marry another woman right away, it was painful to even imagine. What kind of monsters would do that to him?

“Like I said, I was a mess, sick, full of anger. I threatened to expose them as demons, to tell the general populace that they forced children into adult relationships, that they sent little girls off to fight their battles. I twisted everything in my life, in their lives, to make it as sick and hateful as possible. I killed two of the Council’s elders before they could overpower me, screaming to the end that I would never do their bidding again, that they were responsible for her death, and they all deserved to join her in the grave.

“They restrained me, and threw me in a cell until I calmed down. Then they put me before a tribunal. I had threatened to betray my blood, my family, and I must pay. I would be cast out, without the support of the Council, without any memory of my life as I knew it, and my Mum, my only family, would go with me. As punishment for the murders of two of my elders, I would be placed under a spell to suppress my powers. I would be left utterly defenseless against the monsters that hunted humans. They performed the spell, and next thing I knew, I was in London, in a townhouse, living alone with my mother. They even gave us another surname; we lived under the name Pratt.

“I had a whole different life, different memories. For the next ten years, I lived that new life. I felt stifled, every day of it. Like there was something in me society couldn’t understand, and I could never find words to express it. We had money problems, the rise of the middle class and all, as I said earlier. We had to sell off our country house to keep the townhouse, and I had to work. We weren’t poor, but I wasn’t a good prospect for marriage. My Mum was ill, and she was all I had, so I was hesitant to leave her to seek my fortune. No lady would have me, and the new money snubbed the fading gentry like us. I had wealthy cousins, who weren’t involved with the Council, but they snubbed me as well. A nice middle class girl probably would have had me, but my Mum was a bit stuck up, and passed that sense along to me.

“And then I met Drusilla. I had been turned down by a lady who thought me beneath her, and went to clear my head out in the alley. Dru found me and changed my life. As a vampire, I wasn’t restrained any longer; I was free of the rules of society, free of money problems. I turned my Mum. I wanted to cure her illness, to show her the world, but she…She turned wrong. The demon took over completely, I suppose because she was so sick. I ended up having to stake her.”

Ah. Oh, gosh, that must be the trigger that the First used. Wow, if I were Spike, I’d hate the Council. How can he even stand to be around Giles? Part of me wishes he’d had all those memories when the Council was in Sunnydale, supposedly helping with Glory. He could really have made Travers sweat.

“Anyway…Well, I don’t rightly know what to add, Red. I fell in love with Dru, I killed lots of people, Dru got sick, and I ended up in Sunnyhell, gunning for my third Slayer. Few years later I’m in a magic shop, and get hit with a spell that negates whatever those Council Bastards did to my memories a century earlier, and I come to in the middle of a fight, my mind all full of Emily.”

I can’t help but smile at that. That stupid spell. That spell lost me Tara, it used up the last of our time with Giles, time we might have spent convincing him to stay with us. I’ve regretted that spell practically since the second I cast it. But it turns out, that for Spike at least, the spell helped. It gave him back a little piece of himself. I gave him back his memories of his first love. And that, I can’t regret.

“Willow. I’ve never felt like I was able to thank you for that. I could never have explained it to you, back then. That night, I was so conflicted. I’d become the thing that killed my first love, a soulless vampire, a killer. I had all these memories; memories of killing those two Slayers, and suddenly that meant something entirely different to me. I had a huge piece of myself back, but it made me regret what I’d been for all those years, and I never had before. It was like getting a part of my humanity back.

“And Buffy…I wanted to comfort Buffy after the spell, but I didn’t know how. She just looked at me, and her eyes were so full of pain. I knew that I was in love again, with another Slayer. She walked away from me, once she got her memories back. And the memories of loving Emily, of winning her heart… They gave me the courage to go after her, to talk to her. They gave me the courage to kiss her that night.” Spike smirks, and I have to laugh at the look on his face. That must have been a hell of a kiss.

“Well, I wish that the spell had worked out as well for Buffy. I was trying to help her forget heaven, forget her pain.” I reach out and grab his hand. “But I’m glad it worked out for you.”

Spike opens his mouth, then shuts it again. He squeezes my hand and lets go, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cell phone. He looks at it, then back up at me. “You know, I didn’t tell Buffy the whole story up until recently. Back then, I just told her that I’d been engaged, and my fiancé was killed. She was too wrapped up in her own recovered memories to ask too many questions. I even managed to ask Glinda for some help, researching the type of demon I was. Didn’t find much, but it eased my mind a bit, and it gave her something else to think about. Now, I wish I’d gone to you. Had your own problems, didn’t need me throwing mine on your plate, but maybe we could have helped each other out, maybe found a way to help Buffy some.”

God, I just wanna hug him. Oh, what the heck. Before he can move away, I sit beside him and wrap my arms around him. I can’t believe I was scared of him earlier tonight. It seems so stupid, now. He’d never hurt me, because that would hurt Buffy. Spike’s arms slide around my waist, squeezing a bit, and he leans into me a little. It feels weird, but comfortable. Like hugging Xander, but less with the bulk and the body heat. It’s nice.

After a few minutes we pull back, and he looks a bit sheepish. For the first time in a long time, I can tell exactly what he’s thinking. “Call her. You can use the bedroom; I’ll work on the protection spells until you’re done, then catch a quick nap before we go.”

Spike smiles. “Thanks, Red. You’re a true friend.” He pats me on the back, and heads into the bedroom, already dialing.

I miss Tara. I wish I could see her again, yet I know she’s in a better place. I’m sure Emily is, too. Well, I guess if Spike found love again, I can, too. I just hope it doesn’t take me quite so long.

I pour myself a cup of tea, and wander over to the desk where my spells and other papers are. On top of the pile is Meredith’s file, full of my notes from trying to track her down. I can’t think about it now, I have other things to do, but just looking at her address, written there in my own handwriting, gives me back one of the things I lost when Kennedy and I split up. Hope.

Interlude: Dawn

On Thursdays I have to be up at 5:30, to get to an early morning training session before my 8:00 class. And I am, like, not a morning person, so it’s not my favorite day. Of course, there is a bonus; Buffy doesn’t run the early morning sessions, so they’re easier. They’d have to be; it’s totally not fair to make Slayers get up this early, even if they didn’t patrol the night before.

After I’ve stumbled through a shower and packed my stuff, I walk through the living room and drop my bags on the couch; which I can do now that Andrew has, thank God, moved back to London and is no longer camping his annoying butt on our couch. Except, the couch throws my bags off. I’ve already drawn the stake Buffy insists I carry and gone into a fighting stance before I register that the threat is a cranky Buffy.

“Geez, Dawn, don’t you watch what you’re doing?” Buffy rubs her cheek. “You have to be more careful, you could have seriously injured me.”

I’m trying really, really hard not to get annoyed, because Buffy was a freak show yesterday after Spike called, and I want to be a good, supportive type person. “Sorry. I’m really tired, and I didn’t expect you to be sleeping on the couch, so I didn’t see you. Hey, what are you doing on the couch, anyway?” Oh, no, what now? “Is Spike okay? Is Willow…?”

“Shh, Dawn, they’re both fine.” Buffy reaches out both hands to me, and when I grab them, she pulls me onto the couch and into her arms. She’s been really huggy lately. It’s weird. Nice, though. “It’s just…Spike said last night that he’d call in the morning, and I couldn’t sleep, so I came out here to watch TV. And, you know, to be next to the phone in case it rang.”

Buffy shrugs, and I guess she feels silly for worrying, so I don’t say anything. We sit there, just holding each other for a minute, before I get her to eat breakfast with me. “So, explain this to me again. If you can’t even sleep because you’re so worried, why aren’t you on the way to Los Angeles already?” Not that I want Buffy running off, but there’s no way she'd let him dust again. She’s been happy since we found out he’s really back.

“Dawn…” Buffy shakes her head, and watches the toaster instead of making eye contact, until I just wanna scream at her. Finally, she meets my eyes. “It’s not that I don’t want to be there for him…Them. But, I have other responsibilities now, not just to you and the other Slayers, but to Giles and the Council. I can’t go taking off whenever I feel like it. Plus, you know there’s a Wolfram & Hart office here in Rome, right? Well, what if they try something? Who would lead you guys, if I wasn’t here?”

It sounds like a bunch of B.S. excuses, but I let Buffy think she’s convinced me, and we finish breakfast in silence. When I start getting ready to go, she stops me. “Umm, Dawn? Do you wanna, maybe, take the morning off? I could use some company.”

I nod. That’s all I really can do, 'cause now I’m confused and freaked out. Buffy almost never admits she needs help, or that she’s scared or lonely. I usually get it, but she doesn’t like to admit she feels any way that might upset me. She totally acts like a Mom, sometimes.

We haven’t been back on the couch for long before the phone rings. 6:30 a.m.. When Spike says he’ll call in the morning, he doesn’t play around. Buffy answers before the first ring is even over, and as she and Spike exchange hellos, I can feel her muscles relax. Normally Buffy would be better about keeping things from me, but today it’s all out there. That’s either because it’s Spike and I understand about him, or she’s so freaked she can’t pretend to be calm. Whatever; it’s not a good sign.

Buffy’s end of the conversation is really not informative. “So, how are things going? Well, that’s good. Willow said she found one of the Slayers. Really? Really, wow, that’s weird. And she knew Wesley? My Ex-Watcher, Wesley?" Long pause. "You’re kidding. Are you thinking about it, now? Well, if it happens, we’ll worry then. Maybe Willow…No, of course, I get that.”

It goes on like that for, like, ten minutes before Buffy remembers that her lap warmer is a me. “Hey, Dawn’s laying all over me, waiting for her turn to talk to you.” Right, like laying here with my head in her lap like some kind of puppy was my idea. “Here you go.” Buffy hands me the phone, and as I sit up she springs off the couch, headed for who knows where.

“Spike?” Thought I’d check, in case she’s gone completely around the bend.

“’Lo, Nibblet. Skipping your training session this morning?”

“Buffy said she wanted some company, so I figured I'd stick around. Not like she says stuff like that all the time.”

He chuckles. “Nope. I love her, but Buffy is not where you go for the touchy-feelies. Not in her nature, I expect.”

I shrug, even though he can’t see me. “Not really. She’s been better, though. Since we got to Rome, especially the last few weeks.” That’s because of him, and I’m totally grateful. Not like I want her slobbering over me, but it’s nice to see actual facial expressions, instead of that Buffy-bot-like ‘of course I’m happy, why wouldn’t I be’ look she used after Sunnydale. She’s not bubbly-happy all the time, not even since Spike started speaking to us again, but she’s a real person, which is much cooler than plastic Buffy.

We talk for a few minutes about my classes, and he threatens my new boyfriend a little before I can steer him around to talking about what’s going on. Buffy told me what he said yesterday, but I need to hear it from him. By the time he's done, I'm sorry I asked.

“You’ve gotta promise me you’re not gonna dust again, or I will so find a way to get Mom to hunt down your butt in the afterlife and give you shit.” Well, damn, I meant to be more Slayer-y about that, but I guess using my psudo-little-sister powers won’t hurt anything.

He sighs, "Not gonna make promises I can't keep, Nibblet. Try my hardest, though. I still need to meet this boy who thinks he's good enough for my Dawn."

"It's gonna be bad, isn't it?" I ask. Duh, it's an apocalypse, they're always bad.

"Yeah. But we'll make it, never fear Sweet Bit. And if we don't, you have my permission to send Mum after me."

"Right, like I need your permission." Buffy swishes back into the room, all dressed and ready to go, with her long bleached hair pulled into a ponytail. I don't get the whole bleach thing. I mean, I guess it was an homage to Spike, but she always made fun of his hair. Did I mention I don't get it?

Buffy holds out her hand and wiggles her fingers to demand the phone, and I inform Spike with a loud sigh, "Spike, Buffy's bothering me!"

She snatches the phone from me, and we can both hear his laugh echoing from the receiver. "Hey." She puts the phone to her ear, glaring, until I realize I've taken up the entire couch. I make room for Buffy and the glaring stops. When she's sitting again, I curl up with my head in her lap again, and listen to them talk. It's soothing, and there's no way I want to go to class now.

Their conversations are always really strange, but I wouldn't expect anything else from them. There's usually a bunch of 'remember when', and some gossip and true confessions, and the lovey-dovey stuff. If I stay quiet, I can hear the murmur of his voice from the phone, and laying here I can watch Buffy's face. There's a happy smile at the corners of her mouth as she listens to him, and I let myself drift in the quiet. For just a few seconds, I imagine we're a real family, and Spike is just away on business. His life isn't in danger, and he'll be home with us before we know it.

"So, if Wesley decides to send this guy away, you're gonna go cover Willow's back, right? Because, I don't think I need to tell you that if she gets hurt, you're all gonna be in deep doodie." I frown. First thing wrong with that sentence; it burst my normal bubble. Second; what's up with the not-swearing? I open my eyes and blink up at her, and a little hand strokes my cheek. Buffy has such tiny hands. It's hard to imagine her kicking demon ass until you've seen her in person.

After a few more minutes of strategizing and reassuring, Buffy reminds Spike to call her the second something changes, she'll have her cell phone glued to her. "Seriously, Will, call me for any little thing, I'll go crazy if I don't know what's going on." Then. "I'm keeping Dawn with me, so if you don't call, I'm not the only one you'll be disappointing."

News to me. And, geez, guilt much? When I get the phone I just tell him I love him, and to be safe. Buffy can handle the threats this time. When she takes the phone back and says, "I love you, William." I get a lump in my throat. Yeah, so I'm a girl, but it's so great that she's treating Spike like a real person. There are no threats, just the two of them saying their goodbyes, and soon Buffy puts the phone on the table next to her, and sinks back into the couch.

"You don't mind, do you?" I sit up and lean back next to her, as Buffy rambles. "I mean, I know you have school stuff, and I have Slayer stuff, and you might have a date or something…It's okay if you don't want to hang out, but…"

"It's cool, Buffy. I want to hang out with you. But, maybe we should go over to the Slayer Center. It might not be so bad if we're busy." Buffy doesn't look sold on that idea, but she goes along with it.

We're driving ourselves crazy with the waiting, so we go to the 9:00 a.m. training session to have something to do. I think Buffy would have let Alvand take over, but I'd have started hitting her if I didn't get to hit something else. She's even more distracted than she was yesterday afternoon, and the other girls are starting to notice. I'm jittery, and I actually get knocked over by one of the newbies.

The phone doesn't ring again until 10:30 a.m., when we're back in Buffy's office, arguing over who gets to use her private shower first. I take advantage of her distraction to slip into the bath and lock the door. They probably want to talk privately, anyway.

When I get out, Buffy is crying into the phone. "I hate this. I'm supposed to be with you, and I can't be there, and it's driving me nuts, Spike." I flinch, because I know I wasn't meant to hear that, and it hurts to see her like this. "I know, but you shouldn't be worrying about me, you should be focusing on what you need to do, and here I am distracting you…I know you do. I love you, too."

She takes a deep breath. "I'm glad you and Willow had a nice talk, I'll bet she's been itching to do some Nancy Drew-ing ever since I called her. Just don't let her pick your brain too literally, you're gonna need to be in good shape for whatever Angel has planned." There's a watery chuckle. "When's the meeting again? Okay, could you tell me in hours, I'm no good at the whole time zone thing. So, 2:00 p.m. my time. You guys'll call me if you need anything, right? Promise? Did you want to talk to Dawn, the shower's off. Alright, I'll talk to her. Take care of yourself, okay?"

Spike doesn't want to talk to me? Since when? I leave the bathroom ready to give her a piece of my mind, but Buffy looks so upset, curled up in her desk chair, cradling her cell phone like it's a lifeline, which I guess it is right now. So, I let it go.

Buffy looks up at me, with a tiny little smile that's probably more about making me feel better than her being happy. "Hey, Dawnie, have a seat, okay? I need to talk to you about something."

Oh, God. Moments like these usually involve big emotionally prickly issues. I so don't see the sense in being more upset than we are already. But, I sit across the desk from her, and Buffy fills me in on what Willow and Spike are doing in LA.

Then she tells me a story. And I wouldn't believe it, except that it's about Spike, and Buffy is so over lying about him. I'm crying by the time she's done, and I know it's stupid to cry, because it all happened was before I was created, but oh wow; I always said he was different from other vampires, but I never knew.

Buffy walks around the desk and pulls me into her arms, trying to soothe my tears. "Hey, it's okay, I didn't mean to upset you. We just thought you should know, that maybe you'd think it was an interesting story…Shhh, Dawn, it's okay…"

After a few minutes, the phone rings again, and Buffy reaches around me to grab it. "Hello?" When I look up her forehead is scrunched, but it smoothes out as she listens, and then she smiles. "It's Willow." She tells me. "She has a spell we can use to see what's going on in LA, from her point of view. Wanna tune in?"

Jezzie

My head was screaming, and we'd only been researching for a couple of hours. Apple and I began by systematically pulling all the books we could think of out of the library, then set up camp at the dining room table. I let her put on her music, because she seems to focus better with it, and I can read through just about anything. Then again, I didn't expect her to go all Merle Haggard on my ass, either. Goddamn, my head hurt.

And Penny still hadn't gotten me the books she promised. I was starting to get worried, really frickin worried, that we wouldn't be prepared for whatever was going to happen. I tried calling Wes, but didn't get an answer. Merry checked in when she got home, and offered to take a late patrol, but hadn't called since. Willow was working on spell stuff, so I didn't wanna bother her. Which left me and my girls.

I didn't want to wake Laurie, but there was just too much research, and not enough hours to do it in. I needed the extra set of eyes, so I could focus my energies on the non-English texts. Sigh. I hate waking Laurie up. I love that girl, have since the moment she was born, but she does not wake up happy. It must be one of the traits that come from her father, whoever he was, since her mother was super-morning-person. I should know, I lived with her for over ten years. Mary Alice at 5 in the morning brought a whole new meaning to disgustingly perky.

"Laurie?" I peeked around the door, hoping we could get through the throwing things portion of this exercise fairly quickly. No such luck; she just lay there under a mound of covers, dead asleep. Or she snuck out. I try not to think about that too much; try not to compare her to her biological mother, but the thought pops into my mind anyway once in a while. Tonight, I seem to be thinking the worst about everyone and everything, so it's par for the course.

As I walk farther into the room, I can see her long red hair peeking out from the blankets, and I relax a little bit. She's probably just really tired, and I don't want to start thinking about why, or I'll drive myself crazy. "Loralie? Time ta get up, kiddo." I raise my voice, hoping I'm not gonna have to smack her around to get her up. Ah, the joys of motherhood.

A garbled moan is the only response I get, but it's better than nothing. I reach out and shake her shoulder, and Laurie jolts awake with a shriek. God, like my head wasn't a balloon already. "What the bleedin' hell is tha matta wit' you?" She shrieks, rounding on me. "It's the goddamn middle of the night. Nothing could possibly be that bloody important!"

She's panting like she just ran a marathon, and I have a sneaking suspicion that I just jolted her out of a nightmare. Still, though… "Loralie Marie Kent; watch the friggin' language, young lady. You're not too old or too strong for me to beat your ass. Now move, we have work to do."

I turn and walk out of the room, and barely manage to step out of the way when she hurls her alarm clock at me. It must be time to make coffee, since we both obviously need it.
------------------------------------------------------------------------

At about 3:00 a.m., there's a knock on the front door. Laurie glares at it, daring it to be someone having fun, I'm sure. Top ten, number one, thing that pisses baby girl off; when she has to work and other people get to play. Apple doesn't even look up, she's fascinated by whatever she found in DeVoir's Compendium.

I'm not normally paranoid…Okay, who'm I kidding, I'm paranoid all the time; I'm a New Yorker. It being three in the morning, and us so close together and tired, makes the worrying worse. I'm sure I look like a friggin' reject as I sidle up to the door and try to look out the peep hole without getting in front of it; but over-cautious is better than dead, as my mother says. Of course, she's talking about sex when she says that, but I think it applies.

I practically collapse with relief when I see Merry. Without thinking about it, I do something moronic. I throw open the door without checking for other people. And of course, there are other people. Because that's how my life works. Fortunately, the other people in question are Penelope and her Slayer Elise, so I'm not totally screwed, but it's a near thing.

"Surprise!" Penny grins, and pushes past me into the house, which is when I notice she's towing a dolly full of boxes. Woo-hoo, books! "We took the boxes to put them on a plane, and then I thought, why not put us on the plane, too. The guys in the cargo hangar looked a little shifty." She continues talking as she heads down the hall.

"Hey." Lise ducks past me and makes a bee line for Apple. Merry just grins and shrugs at me, and heads after them.

When I get back to the dining room, Penny is chattering a mile a minute, and Laurie is the only one listening. The rest of them are digging into the boxes. "Graanfield Texts and Ptaryet Codices." I cut Penny off mid sentence. I have all of two hours to find something useful, I'm not wasting time with pleases.

"Sure, sweetie, calm down. They're right here…Um, somewhere." Penny frowns at the piles of books the girls are digging out, as though the books will fly towards her if she glares at them hard enough. "Lise, where's the Ptaryet Codices, I think they were in your box?"

Apple brings over a pile of maroon leather-bound books, and drops them in front of where I was sitting. Then she goes back to whatever she's doing. Sometimes, you gotta watch her; she doesn't really speak when she's concentrating. I'm betting those are the Graanfield books I was looking for. I'm pretty confident in Penny's ability to hunt down the other books for me, so I get back to work.

My pocket note pad from dinner is out on the table for cross-referencing. My research notebook is already half full, with notes and references from the texts I had on hand. One specific text, which got me interested in the other books, documents the 'good works' of an Aurelian vampire the author believed was on the path to Shanshu. He cites a specific passage documenting 'trials, leading to the great and mysterious reward', as well as noting that the vamp in question wasn't close enough to his vampiric family to be a part of 'The End of the Line'. Reading that, all I can think of is the Traveling Willbury's song. I sooo need more coffee. And more paper.

We don't really talk while we work. Well, Apple and I don't, and Elise never talks much. Merry has taken her books into the living room, and I can hear her on the phone from time to time, but haven't gotten any updates yet. Laurie and Penny take breaks to go chat in the kitchen, so either way, the table is quiet. God, now that I've had some caffeine and Tylenol, it's too quiet. Laurie must be channeling my impatience today; or, you know, mind reading; because she turns the stereo on and gets me more coffee without being asked. Then again, she could just be avoiding work. That would be about right.

When I have a clearer idea of what's going to happen, and my eyes are starting to cross, I go pay Merry a little visit. She's whining into her cell phone at someone, and I'm not paying enough attention to be anything other than annoyed, when Merry's volume rises, and I snap into focus. "Joy, please, I'm begging you to listen to me. I've been doing this for a lotta years, you know. It could get bloody mad in the city, I need to know you're safe, and that we have a place to go if we need it. Please, sis, get out of here. I'm on my knees, begging you." Which she really wasn't, but isn't that the bitchin' thing about the phone; the lack of vision?

I grab the phone from Merry before she can really gear up the whining and pierce one of my eardrums. "Joycie? Hey, it's Jezz. Listen, I know it's early, and you probably think…"

"Bitch, don't tell me what I think." Okay, so she's friggin' pissed. "I wanna help, I'm strong enough, and I'm not letting my sister go out there without me." Yup, pissed.

"Joycie, listen…"

"And don't call me Joycie. What, am I two? Am I retarded? I'm 24 now, damnit; I'm an adult, and I can help. I mean, I can't use a sword or anything, but Merry taught me to use a crossbow, and I took some karate lessons, I'll be okay. Please…"

"No, Joyce. I appreciate the offer, but we have plenty of people to fight, what we need you to do is get our backup resources, and maybe some provisions, and get out of town. Joy, if you're out there with us, there's not only the risk of you getting hurt, there's the risk of Merry being distracted, and getting hurt herself. I know how excited you are that you can help now, but I think it should wait until you're better trained. We'll get together next week…"

"If there is a next week." Merry muttered.

I kick her, hoping Joy didn't hear that little ray of sunshine. "Next week we'll talk it over, and set up a training schedule for you, okay?"

She grumbles and hems and haws, but by the time I get Joyce off the phone she's already packed and heading over to Merry's to pick up clothes and first aid supplies. Merry smiles tiredly at me. "Thanks, chief. She was being a raving bitch to me. She's about the only person I can think of that we can get out of town. I am in your eternal debt, fair maiden."

I roll my eyes, because that's really all I can think to do, and flop down on the couch next to her. "Did you call your brother?"

She nods, and gets that hopeless/angry look she gets whenever Nolan's name comes up. "He still thinks I'm insane, and he has to go to work, he doesn't have time to go 'joyriding' across California because I tell him to; and LA is always dangerous, how much worse can it get…?" She sighs and rubs her eyes, and I'm glad all over again that I'm an only child. Merry's brother and sister can charitably be described as uber-difficult.

I pat her back, and eventually Merry relaxes into the couch and starts to look less like she's gonna rip someone's head off. "So…" I don't mean to be inconsiderate, but we don't have time to discuss the semi-tragic relationship between Merry and her brother. "It's 4:56 a.m., and we're all the way across town from the meeting they're having. Have you at least spoken to Willow?"

Merry yawns and starts rifling through her notes. "Yeah, 'bout an hour ago. She didn't want us to come, said we'd be better off using the time for research, and she wasn't sure how Angel was gonna react to her being here, let alone the rest of us. Spike was in her hotel room when she called me. Do you think somethin's going on there?"

Well, well; looks like Merry has a little crush. "I very much doubt it. I think we're on the way to figuring out this 'End' thing. It looks like it's about to happen; well, I think. Each of the vampires called the 'Twin Souls', has a focus to their call to redemption. One is the Champion of the Powers, who is isolated in order to focus on his mission. The other is the Champion of the Slayer; basically her other half, her partner. I'm thinking that's Spike, based on what Willow said earlier."

Merry seems content with that answer; either that or she isn't listening to me at all, because she's still going through her notes. "Yes, well, I figured out a few things also, if you're interested. It seems that Buffy and Laurie are distantly related, both to one another, and to William Spenser's fiancée, who died in 1869. Miss Emily Anne Worthington had two older brothers, Duncan George Worthington, and Michael Andrew Worthington, who changed his last name to Paulson when he emigrated to the US to marry in 1872. Buffy is descended from the Paulsons, and Laurie from the other Worthingtons."

"And this tells me what about the price of tea in China?" I know I'm being rude, but we don't have time for this… Whatever the hell this is.

"It tells us, that if Spike is the Champion of the Slayer, and he was once the mate of Emily Worthington, then as part of earning his reward he will be required to protect his current mate and her family. Since Buffy and Dawn are safely in Europe, Laurie's the closest family member around, so his part in this battle will likely involve protecting her. Also, just for added fun, if we've figured this out, there is a chance the other side has as well, which puts Laurie in a right mess of danger."

Fucking Hell…Great, I think my headache is gonna come back. Shit, my poor baby girl. I've been trying to be an adult about this whole 'Laurie is a Slayer, too' thing, but right now I just wanna put her in a crate and ship her to my parents for safe keeping. Once this whole mess is sorted out, I really need to look into getting Laurie her own Watcher; I'm no good at being objective when it comes to her. If I were, I'd never have adopted her. I take a few deep breaths to calm myself, which does not frigging work at all, and turn back to Merry. "Right, baby girl walking into fiery death. What else?"

Merry flinches, but continues speaking calmly. "I also found reference to a vampire named Heinrich Nest, in which the author states that his rise to power within the Order of Aurelius will herald a further split within the family, eventually leading to their complete destruction. Ever heard of him? Nest, I mean."

"The Master. They called him The Master; he was the oldest living member of the Order, until Buffy killed him about seven years ago. He was Darla's sire."

Merry whistles. "There's a resume builder; 'killed the oldest living Aurelian master'. Almost as impressive as the whole, 'having two of the most dangerous vampires in history fall in love with you' thing."

Yeah, right. I roll my eyes. "Yeah, sure Spike's one of the most dangerous vampires in history." I shake my head. This is one of my pet peeves, so of course I get completely derailed from my original purpose in coming in here. "That's always frustrated me, you know. Angelus was a sadistic, creative killer; worse than any human serial killer ever apprehended. Spike killed two Slayers, and I'm sure several thousand, possibly million humans, but that's about it."

"He tortured people with railroad spikes." Merry points out, obviously engaged in the conversation now.

I nod. "Yes, he did. When he was a fledgling he killed people he'd likely known before he was turned by nailing them spread-eagle in their yards. And I'm sure it hurt, a lot. They were also quick killings; those people had their throats cut, they didn't die from blood loss or shock after dragged-out-for-days torture. Personally, I think it would have been worse if he'd left them to bleed to death."

Merry does the fidgety little wriggle she always does when blood or gore is a major part of the conversation. "Okay, okay. So, if Spike's not such a big deal badass, like the Council always said he was, then how come…"

"Oh, he was a badass, alright. You're missing the point. Why is hitting your kid worse than hitting your spouse, or partner, or whatever?" Merry looks at me like I've got two heads, so I guess I'm answering my own questions. "It's worse to go after people who can't defend themselves. Angelus tended to torture innocents; Drusilla is a prime example. The men Spike tortured with the railroad spikes were all grown; most of them had reputations as bullies. Two were amateur boxers. It's not nearly the same thing."

Merry nods at me, but there's a look in her eyes that says she doesn't really get the difference. "So, oh wise and wonderful vampire expert, who do you think is worse?"

Oh, what a can of worms she just opened. I just hope she doesn't get sick… "Well, there was Rodrigo Diaz, who was responsible for a series of brutal rapes and murders of street children in Central America, primarily Honduras, from 1929 to 1963 when he was killed. The crime scene photos are just lovely, let me tell you. He painted cartoons in their blood. And the number of missing children skyrocketed during that time; who knows how many more victims there were.

"Then, there was Andrew the Knave, who lived in the early 1400's. His favorite pastime was to incite riots, then roam through the crowds snapping necks. He was never known to feed or wear his game face in public. One of the methods he used to rile the masses was to drain and mutilate a virgin, cut what was left of the body into quarters, then put the mangled pieces in the main hall of a castle during wartime.

"Also…" Before I can get to the really good ones, Merry bolts for the bathroom. Lightweight; I didn't even describe the intestine facemasks Hildegard the Vicious was famous for making. How that girl's getting through medical school is beyond me.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Willow calls a little after 7:00 a.m. to let us know the Wolfram & Hart team has been given the day off, and she's coming by the house to help research, and perform her protection spells. By that time we've begun to compile all of our research into a solid theory on the effects of the battle on the Slayer line, and on how the Shanshu will work. So far, we have lots of nothing, and a very little bit of something.

We still have no idea what the threat to Laurie will be, although it is evident now that there is one, for sure. My little Laurie, as it turns out, is one of the key players in today's battle; the reference Merry found earlier to the Champion of the Slayer protecting his mate was actually mis-translated, and had more to do with the Slayer Line, the future leaders of the family, whatever that means. Laurie might be in charge of all the Slayers one day, or have a daughter who is. Looking at my teenage daughter, that's too strange for words, but it's nothing I can worry about now.

There's also a good deal of confusion over someone referred to as 'The Destroyer', and the 'Child of Vampires', which I've heard of before, but I can't find the books I need to look up the reference. If I remember correctly, it's just like it sounds; two master vampires under certain conditions can make a baby that's a demon-human hybrid. Problem is, I don't remember the conditions. The Destroyer is either a reference to the same person, or a whole other thing we have to worry about, but it's really hard to tell from the books we have.

I'm not as confident as I'd like to be going into a situation like this, but there's only so much I can plan for, and if I keep thinking about it I'll have a serious meltdown, which won't help anyone. Except maybe the Senior Partners at Wolfram & Hart.

My brain is swimming, and things are starting to look fuzzy, so I make an executive decision that I need to sleep before we do anything else. I leave Penny in charge of the compilation project and go couch out. Merry is at the table with the others, so I don't have to go hide in my room, which I am absurdly grateful for. Not that my room is bad, but right now it's too far from Laurie for my taste.

I wake up groggy but refreshed, to the sounds of teenage arguments and laughter in the dining room. It takes me a minute to remember why the hell I'm laying on my couch in the middle of the day, and why there are so many other people around, but once I have my head on straight I'm ready to roll. Penny and the three younger girls are sitting down to lunch when I enter the dining room, and they greet me boisterously. Merry and Willow, who should be here somewhere, are not.

"Hey. Where are Merry and Willow?" I rub the sleep out of my eyes and take the plate Apple hands me, filling it as quickly as possible. I'm so frickin' hungry, I could eat a horse, maybe two.

"They took off. Willow did the protection spells while you were asleep, and she said she'd try to make it back here, but she has to meet Wesley at 6:00." Penny seems way too cheerful about that, and I'm kinda pissed that I missed my chance to go over our research with the witch, but I guess it serves me right for sleeping that long. I needed it, though, I was seeing things by the time I passed out.

"They both got their cell phones with 'em." Apple knows I hate it when she talks with her mouth full, but I guess she knew I was getting frustrated and wanted to head me off. Still, it's my responsibility to remind her…

"Don’t talk with your mouth full. Your mother'd have an apoplexy if I sent you home for the summer with new bad habits. And thanks, I'll give Merry a call when I'm done eating." Apple nods, and I plop into an empty seat. I start eating too fast, and have to force myself to slow down. After all, I'm supposed to be setting a good example for…Well, everyone else at the table.

I miss being around grownups. Ever since we left New York, when we came here to bury Mary Alice, I've had no one to help out. Peter was not just my Watcher, he helped me raise Loralie after Mary Alice took off for her new Council-free life. We lived in Texas near Apple's family for a few years, and then in New York my parents and my ex-boyfriend were always there if I needed them. I hate not having anyone to lean on, no one around who's really on my level, no one older to take some of the burden off of me. Not that Penny and Merry aren't grown up, but Mindy and I were their Mentors at the Council, and they both still look to me for guidance on some level.

I eat quietly for a few minutes, before something Penny said sinks in. "Hey, Penn. Willow did the protections spells?" She nods. "Then why isn't there any magic-smell or anything? It seems pretty normal aroun' here."

Even if Merry or someone else were here to ask, Penelope is probably the best person to explain it to me. She may be the only one of us who meant to be a field Watcher, and the one with the most superficial knowledge, but she has an affinity for magic like no other Potential, or Slayer, that I've ever met. I know a few Druids and Wiccans who are on her level, and I'm sure Willow surpasses her, but I've known Penny for years and I trust her more.

Penny nods, probably following the same train of thought I am. "Yeah, she did this great spell, which enhances the body's natural defenses; especially in areas like the heart, throat and lungs where mortal blows would fall, and on the limbs, so that they're better able to guard. It didn't even need any real tools, just her power and our own internal power. She said there was only one guy who didn't have enough internal power to harness, and for him she needed spell casting materials, but she did our spells all the same way. She just laid-on hands and chanted a bit. You slept through it."

I shake my head. I slept through someone touching me and chanting, not too hard to do. It seems to me, though, that a spell powerful enough to do any real good would have woken me up, or at least left some residue. Then again, I barely passed my magic requirements for Watcher training, so what the hell do I know?

It's almost noon, and we've done as much research as we can with the books we have on hand. All of our findings have been looked over by a vampire expert, a slayer expert, a field watcher with a strong background in magic, and one of the most powerful witches in the world. Willow left a list of assignments for the six of us, with contact information for the members of Angel's team we'll be assisting. We have plenty of time to rest, and do some training. So, why do I still feel like we're not gonna win?

Angel

I knew as soon as I stepped into Spike's apartment that something was wrong. Wesley was calmly tending Illyria, as he had been all day and night according to Gunn. Gunn and Lorne sat at either end of the small couch, both looking uncomfortable and lost. What was left of my team, my friends, was a sad sight.

And Spike and Lindsay weren't there at all. Son-of-a… After all the time I spent convincing Lindsay to help, the little weasel bailed on me. Spike, I wasn't that surprised about. He could be out getting cigarettes, or hopping a plane to Italy, you never knew with him. He'd either be late, or he wouldn't show.

There were no greetings when I came in, none of them even acknowledged me, really. Suddenly, I felt awkward. I mean, I've been wrong before. In hindsight, eating Gypsies, not a good idea. Not researching the curse they placed on me, also not smart. But this battle is what Cordelia wanted me to do, this would put me back on the path to redemption.

Then again, even if I lived, it was unlikely that they would. Were their lives less worthy than mine? Of course not. I just didn't see any other way to do this, any other way to loosen the grip Wolfram & Hart had on this dimension. Any other way to redeem the mistakes I've made the past two years. I didn't know any other way to free Connor, and begin to make things right with him.

Searching for something to say to them, some way to reconnect, my focus landed on Wes and Illyria. “Do we know who did this?” I nodded towards Illyria, laid out unconscious in the small bed.

Gunn looked up at me warily, fiddling with the sleeve of his hoodie. “It was Hamilton.”

“You didn’t know?” Lorne sounds snide, and exhausted, and so unlike the fun-loving Host of Caritas that my soul aches for him. He’s never wanted to be a fighter, and here he is, stuck fighting my battles. If there were a way to keep Lorne out of this, I would. He never really chose this path, he just kind of ended up here, because we're his friends.

I shake my head, not knowing what to say. I did what I had to do, but I’m not proud of it. “He brought Drogan.”

Lorne shakes his head, and Gunn returns to the contemplation of his cuff. Neither of them has anything else to say to me. Wes is still fussing over Illyria, and ignoring me. I prefer that, really, to seeing the heartbroken wariness in his eyes. He's been distant ever since Fred died; but the way he's been since regaining his memories is worse. He's defeated, and we haven't even begun to fight.

I’m distracted from the need to explain myself to them by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. I turn to find Spike in the doorway, with a large blue duffle bag. “Spike, nice of you to join us.” I can’t help being a little snide, we’re all so wrecked, we’ve been through so much together. Spike just showed up here to get in the way, and get in fights, it seems.

Spike ignores me, and my attempt to bait him, and brings the duffle to Wes. Wesley nods his thanks, and opens the bag, silently removing a note and some herbs. I start to get nervous at being left out of the loop, and open my mouth to speak, when Spike motions me into silence with an annoyed look. So I wait, getting more nervous as the moments tick by while Wes does…Whatever it is he’s doing.

Another unfortunate side effect of having Spike around, is the closeness he and Wes have developed. He’s superficially comfortable with Gunn and Lorne, in a comrades-in-arms kind of way, but it seems like he and Wes have some strange bond, and I don’t like it.

There’s a burst of light from whatever Wes did, and suddenly I sense another heartbeat in the room. I spin around, and find Willow Rosenberg standing by the door. She waves at me a little sheepishly, and I remember the beginning, the timid Willow of my first year in Sunnydale, what feels like a million years ago. “Hey, Angel.”

“Willow? What are you doing here?” I knew Giles wouldn’t send me any help if I asked, plus it would blow my cover, and calling Buffy seemed like a bad idea in general. Especially with Spike here. I never even thought of trying to get to Willow directly, I’m ashamed to say. After what happened with Fred, I didn’t think she’d come.

“Spike called me.” Willow smiles at Spike, who is lounging in the armchair he’s pulled in from the bedroom. For the guy who’s just pulled off the big coup, he looks surprisingly un-smug. He meets my eyes calmly, with a little nod, and returns his focus to Willow. I can feel her shifting nervously, waiting for my response, so I turn back to her, and motion for her to continue.

Willow nods and looks around the room, looking at Lorne, Gunn, and Wes in turn, before she meets my eyes. “First, I’d like to apologize. About Fred.” She sighs. “I don’t think I could have done anything, but Giles should have called me, and I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help. I mean, maybe…” She shakes her head and sighs. “Anyway, I’m sorry. She was a great person.” We all nod, but no one responds, because there’s really nothing to say. We all miss her, and we probably always will.

“I brought backup.” Willow continues, with a calm I’d never have credited to her. “It’s not much, only six Slayers, but…”

“There’s six, now?” Wes asks, and for some reason I see red.

I turn back to Wes, irritated. “You knew about this?”

Wesley nods, no regret or irritation, or even any concern present in his face. “Spike was with me when he left to go meet Willow, and asked me to accompany him.”

My anger fades in the face of Wes’ calm, seasoned with apathy. We have some more help, and I’m grateful, but it still pisses me off, a bit. And how the hell did Spike get Willow’s number, when I didn’t even have it? When she moved from Sao Paulo to Rio, she hadn’t bothered to let me know, and I was left trying to pry information out of Giles.

I try to calm down and focus. “Well, I hope they’re ready. We’re killing them all tonight.”

I can feel the crackle of energy in the room, the increased heartbeats of the humans, and despite myself I’m happy to have caused a stir. “Tonight.” Spike murmurs. “I was hoping for another day.”

Willow nods, and walks past me to perch on the narrow arm of Spike’s chair, patting his back as she sits. “Angel, I don’t mean to take over or anything, but if you’re supposed to be undercover bad guy, maybe you should tell us the plan and get back to Wolfram & Hart. We can take it from there.”

I’m annoyed, I can admit that, but I can’t show it. And that makes it worse. I’ve been agonizing over this for months, how to take out Wolfram & Hart, and I made the grand sacrifice; Connor got his memories back, and I gave up the Shanshu. And a twenty-three year old witch is trying to take over. I’ve been alive longer than she’s had a goddamn country of origin, what right does she have?

I take a deep, useless breath and try to stay calm and clear. “I want everyone to take a day off, relax, do something for yourselves. We’ll meet back here tonight, and…”

“No, we won’t.” Spike and Willow being buds; I could handle that, I missed a lot in Sunnydale the last few years. But the two of them ganging up to shoot me down is just creepy.

Spike takes the backup role, and lets Willow be the one to confront me. “Angel, you wanted everyone to stay away from you, so that no one would be suspicious, right?” I nod, gritting my teeth. I really don’t like where this is going. “There are guards all around this building; why do you think I came in the way I did? It certainly didn’t do anything to conserve my strength, doing a spell that big. If you come back here, they’re gonna suspect, and they’re gonna be ready for you, for us. Please, let’s just get this all out on the table quickly, and get you on your way. Once you walk out the door, you’re cut off until it’s time to fight.”

Cut off. That’s exactly how I feel right now. Whether they intended to do it or not, Wes, Willow, and Spike have set themselves up as a united front against me. Gunn sits quietly; an attentive audience, still on the fence about his role in this little drama. Lorne looks more interested than I’ve seen him in weeks, and that decides it for me. I’m a control freak, I get that; but this isn’t the time. If we’re going to win, we need to be smart, and I’m not thinking entirely straight.

I nod, and quickly outline my plan, as rough as it is. When I get to my explanation of Lindsay and Lorne’s roles, Spike interrupts. “And that’s where the Slayers come in, mate. Don’t think Mr. Greengenes over there wants to go in all on his lonesome, and your Okie’s unavailable at the moment.”

Before I can ask what the hell they’ve done with Lindsay, Willow cuts in. “I need Lorne out of the fighting, to set up a hidey-hole in case the battle drags on, maybe some type of medical care unit? I was thinking we could use your hotel.” I can’t argue with that, Lorne’s hard to kill, but he wouldn’t be much use on his own, anyway. I nod, because that’s all I can do, and I don’t care enough about Lindsay, honestly, to get into it with Willow. “Is that all right with you Lorne?” Willow asks, and I can see the relief in Lorne’s eyes as he readily agrees.

I briefly mention the role I had hoped to convince Illyria to play, and they all seem hopeful that she’ll come through. “And if not,” Wes adds, “I’m sure Jezebel can handle it.”

Spike snorts, and Willow thumps him on the back of the head. I don’t even bother to open my mouth; they’re not likely to tell me, anyway. “Listen, what I said before, I meant it. I want you guys to take the day off. Go out, do whatever you want. Live today like it’s your last. Because it probably is.”

Gunn frowns, and meets my eyes for the first time since I came in. “Angel, if we’re planning to assassinate the power elite of the apocalypse tonight, shouldn’t we be cowboying up?”

“Angel’s right. The more normal you all look, the less they’ll suspect what’s coming. If you’re all alone today, they can’t think you’re planning anything.” Willow pipes up, and I wonder when she started channeling Buffy. General Willow is a person I never expected to meet.

“Besides, I have another player we need to round up, Angel, and this is on you.” She meets my eyes, and I see wary affection and hesitation in her face. “We need Connor.” I tense up, unwilling to put my boy in danger again, but she shakes her head before I can protest. “I know you don’t want him to get hurt, or even be involved in your fight, but it’s his destiny. I’ve had people researching ever since Spike called me. He needs to be here for this.”

I want to scream and argue and throw the couch at her. The howling demon inside me wants to drain her dry, make her go away. But seeing her empathy and regret for asking me to do this, asking my son to fight alongside me, makes the hurt less. Willow wouldn’t put Connor in danger just to get back at me for something, so she’s telling me the truth. And all I can do is agree. “I’m going to see him today. I’ll ask.”

Willow nods, smiling a little. “Good. I wasn’t looking forward to tracking him down and looking like a crazy person when I explained why he needed to come with me to fight monsters.” Spike chuckles, and I can’t help joining in.

I’m about to issue some last minute instructions, to wish them all luck, since I won’t be seeing them again until we’re on the battlefield, such as it is, when Spike’s cell phone beeps. He flips it out of his duster pocket, and all his attention is focused on the tiny machine as he pushes buttons. A grin blooms on his face as he looks at it, and Willow leans over so she can see whatever it is he’s looking at.

“Oi, Red, it’s private!” Spike yelps, turning the phone so she can’t see it.

Unfortunately for him, it seems she already has. “Aww, Spike, that’s so cute!”

“Take that back!” He blusters, the smile wiped from his face, but as he’s attempting to stare Willow down, Gunn decides to jump into the fray, plucking the phone from Spike’s hand. He takes a look at the screen, and snaps the phone shut as if he was sorry he’d looked. It would be funny, if I could forget everything else going on, and stop wondering what all the fuss is about.

And suddenly it clicks. Buffy. Spike called Buffy, or maybe Buffy called Spike. I know Buffy must have called him; hell, I gave her the number. Buffy must have sent Willow to LA. Buffy’s sending Spike text messages that Willow thinks are ‘cute’?

Spike’s spent a lot of time needling me about his physical relationship with Buffy, and yeah it pissed me off, but I figured it was just his way of deflecting attention from the fact that she didn’t love him. Maybe I’m wrong. He’s in my heart. What the hell does that mean, anyway? Maybe they’re friends, now?

Spike’s look is calculating, as if he’s deciding whether wrestling the phone away from Gunn will draw too much attention from me. Gunn looks like he’s ready to hand the phone back and change the subject to something more important, and my curiosity is killing me, so before either of them can make a decision, I bolt across the room and pluck the phone from Gunn’s fingers.

“Oi, what the bloody hell is wrong with you people? Can’t a bloke have a bit of privacy in his own bloody home?” Spike’s really pissed off, and nervous now, so I open the phone and take a quick glance before he can take it back.

The message is short and simple, and unfortunately will probably be burned on my eyes for the rest of my life.

S- Dont dust. Luv, B

I hurl the phone at Spike, then turn and walk away, because it’s the only thing I can think to do. If I stay, I’ll kill Spike, or die trying.
-------------------------------------------------------------

A few hours later, I'm standing in a little coffee shop on the Stanford campus, watching Connor study. He must get the book smarts from Darla, because they sure as hell don't come from me. She’d be so proud if she could see him now; 17 and already in college. I can picture her bragging over him, although I can’t really see her being maternal, the bragging I can picture clearly.

She’d have kicked my ass six ways from Sunday for losing him to Holtz. Then again, she’d have gotten a good laugh out of how he hated me. She always did love a good drama, especially with lots of bloodshed. She’d really enjoy the big fight I’m about to start, and Darla might even have joined in, but only if she knew she would come out on top.

I haven’t said it to anyone, but I didn’t expect to survive this fight. Maybe I will, now, with the extra help from Willow and the Slayers. What the hell do I do when it’s all over?

I guess the best place to start is here, with Connor. If I can make my peace with him…Even if we never talk again, I need to know that I tried to meet him as a father, and as a friend. The rest will sort itself out. I hope.

So I square my shoulders and walk out from behind the pillar I’ve been not-exactly hiding behind, and walk up to my son. He doesn’t notice me at first, he’s engrossed in whatever is spread out in front of him, so I say “Hi”. Not the most original opening in the world, but it gets his attention. When Connor looks up, I’m almost as startled as I was when he walked into my office at Wolfram & Hart. His serious face seems far older than 17, and his eyes are Darla’s. Maybe it’s because I’ve been thinking of her today, wondering if I’ll see her in Hell, or wherever I end up, but I can see in Connor’s face every feature he inherited from his mother, and for the first time in a long time, I can think of him as more than just my son. He’s Darla’s son.

“Can I sit?” I’m trying to be casual, because I don’t want him to notice how desperately I just want to stay here for a while and look at his face and remember his mother. Connor recovers pretty quickly from his surprise at seeing me, and is polite, if not warm at all.

“Sure. I’m surprised to see you, Angel. What brings you here from LA?” He sits back in his chair to give me his attention, and his posture reminds me of Darla, suddenly everything he is and does makes me think of her. This isn’t what I wanted; I just wanted to check in on him. I did tell Willow I’d bring him back to LA with me, but I know I can’t ask. He’s the last surviving piece of Darla, and if I die, he’s my legacy as well. I can’t put him in danger. Screw destiny, Connor’s staying here. I suppose it’s fitting, in a way. When Darla dusted herself, my main concern was for him; now that I’m here to say goodbye to him, I can’t stop thinking about her.

I sit across from my son, and start to talk. Just chit-chat, at first, but I soon find myself telling him about my life. I tell him more than he ever needed to know about Spike and Buffy, for no good reason really, just because it made me furious and I don’t know what to say. And when he asks me if I haven’t moved on myself, I tell him about Nina.

“So, she’s a werewolf?” Connor’s arched eyebrow must be something he’s inherited from me, or picked up from one of his new parents, I know I never saw Darla do that.

“And an art student.” And I like her so much, I feel like bragging a little that she chose me. Trouble is, I’m not in love with her, and I know it. “She does this great pottery. She made me a vase.” I can’t help but chuckle, because I sound his age, and I know it.

“But it’s the wolf part that joneses you. There’s some full moon loving, am I right? Fur flying…” Connor’s face has a knowing look I don’t care for, and the abrupt turn in the conversation is rather disturbing. Now he really sounds like Darla, too. And as much as I loved the depraved, kinky part of her, seeing it in our son is sobering.

It takes me a second to realize that he’s stopped talking, and I respond with the ever popular “huh?” Does he actually expect me to give him details, or is he just messing with me?

“Vampires really don’t understand the concept of jokes.” Well, I guess that answers my question. Whew.

“I understand jokes.” I’m still recovering, so I’m feeling a little defensive. He managed to rattle me. Darla was really good at that. “I was at the first taping of the Carol Burnett show. Tim Conway was on fire. It was special.” He’s giving me a weird look, but it doesn’t remind me of Darla. For some reason, it reminds me of Buffy. She used to make this face, sometimes, when we were dating, that said ‘I’d forgotten how old you really are, until you said that’. Connor’s making the exact same damn face. With Darla’s eyes. It’s freaky.

“I know you’re my father.”

Well, that was an abrupt change of topic. I have no idea how to respond, so I sit in silence for a second. Then, I decide to just go with it, and let him steer the conversation. He probably has questions, things he needs to say. “You got your memories back.”

He nods, hunching forward to avoid my eyes. “And they’re mixed in there with the new ones.” He meets my eyes, then looks away again. “Kinda like a bad dream I had, I guess. A very strange, and violent; at times inappropriately erotic, dream.”

Connor looks up again, and as much as I want to justify my actions, I keep my promise to myself, that I’ll let him lead me to whatever topic he chooses. “You probably have a lot of questions.” Ask me anything you want, and I’ll answer. Just, please don’t tell me you hate me, that you never want to see me again.

Those deep bottomless blue eyes turn away from mine as he answers. “No…I don’t wanna make a thing. I get what you did. You know? And I’m grateful. That’s as far as I wanna take it. Okay?”

It’s not a complete brush off, he didn’t tell me to get lost, but there are very clear ‘do not enter’ signs in his face and posture, and I let it go, and turn the conversation back to a less serious topic. “So, what are you working on?”

We talk about resumes, and the internship he’s applying for, which is with a museum, of all things. He’s thinking of majoring in history. Possibly art history, or military history, which I just don’t see the connection between. Well, he has years of school left, plenty of time to decide. Darla would have made some comment about the beauty of violence, which is just another little piece of her I see in him. Although, that may be me, it feels like an Angelus idea on closer inspection.

He jokes around, doing his best to lighten the conversation, and I go along with it. I head off with a hand shake and no promises on either side. I never even hinted at asking for his help. I just couldn’t. He has his whole new life ahead of him.
-----------------------------------------------------------

On the plane back to LA, I let me thoughts drift to the Shanshu. Signed in blood, I gave up my claim on the reward. If Spike becomes human, and ends up marrying Buffy at noon on the beach, I have no one to blame but myself.

What would I have done as a human, anyway? I have none of the documentation people need to get through life in the modern world. What the hell would I do with my time? I’d have to work, but who would hire me? The Watcher’s Council, probably.

How could I be Connor’s father as a human? I was turned 250 years ago, but I was 27, and I don’t think I can pass for much older than that. Connor’s almost 18. I’d be more like his older brother. Then again, he has real human parents, and it’s not like I really raised him.

The more I think about it, the more depressed I feel, so I return my focus to the fight. Killing Hamilton won’t be easy, but it’ll be very satisfying. And, after today I never have to deal with Harmony again, which is one big plus. That is, if I survive today. I don’t feel good about our chances, but I’m not counting on being destroyed, which is more optimism than I had yesterday.

The plan is simple; kick Hamilton’s ass all over the building, send Harmony on her way, and meet up with the others. Hopefully, Willow doesn’t kick my ass too badly for not bringing Connor back, and at least some of us make it out.

I consider briefly, now that the time is almost here, calling Giles and asking for more Slayers. The thought’s rejected almost as soon as I think it. He’d help Spike before he helped me, and the last chance he had, Giles almost got Spike killed.

Merry

Willow calls as I’m reading a book about Slayers in the Victorian era. Okay, so I’m not focusing on the topic at hand, exactly. But I’ve never read this book, or heard of it for that matter, and it is in my area of expertise. God bless Mindy and her habit of buying any and all books. I miss that girl.

“Cheerio, Willow.” I don’t normally go for the full tilt British when I’m in the States, but it seems to make her happy, and some people are just worth going the extra mile for.

Don’t think it worked, though, because Willow’s voice is tense when she speaks. “Hey, Merry. How are our Slayers?”

“Evidently, a sight better than our vampires.” I joke, but it falls flat, so I move on. “I take it the meeting didn’t go well?”

“The meeting went fine.” She sighs, and I hear someone snort in the background, and the murmur of voices. “Well, if you call Angel storming out pissed off at everyone fine, then it was. It’s been a long morning, and it’s only 7, you know? We still have 12 hours until we storm the proverbial castle, and I’m all jittery.”

I chuckle because in the day I’ve known her, I have learned that jittery is very much Willow’s normal state while under stress. Then it sinks in. At 7 tonight, I will be fighting something more than my usual couple of fledglings on patrol.

There’s more talking at the other end of the line, and it takes Willow a minute before she continues. “So, I think we’ve got assignments for the Slayers, if you wanna approve them?”

“Sure, luv, have at.” God, I sound cheesy. It’s weird, having two native accents. At any given moment, I sound fake to myself.

“Well, I figured a couple of Slayers could cover the assignment Angel wanted to give Lindsay, maybe with Jezebel in charge. I’d like a Slayer to come with Wesley and me, whoever is best at magic. Someone else, possibly two Slayers, will go with Charles Gunn. Everyone else will head to the Hyperion with Lorne, then meet up with us when the big fighting starts. Lorne’s setting up a triage unit, and laying in supplies in case we get stuck for a few days. I’d suggest sending some stuff over, you know, so you can all change into clean clothes and stuff. How’s that sound?”

It sounds fine, if vague, so I agree pending input from Jezzie and Penny. “Hey, listen, I sent my sister to collect supplies and head out of town, should I call back and just have her go to this Hyperion place?”

“You have a sister?” Why does Willow sound so confused? “I’m sorry, it’s just that, I was only informed of four Slayers in Los Angeles. I mean, Giles and Faith both signed off on the paperwork; how come they didn't think of her? I didn't even bother doing the Slayer-detection spell I usually do when I got here, it didn't seem worth it.”

I frown. The Council didn't identify Joyce as a Potential. Something about the strong blood usually going to the older kids, Mom said. I’ve sparred with her a couple of times since we came into our powers, and superior skill is really the only thing that kept me on my feet. "I wouldn't do the trance now, either; you'll need your strength, and we don't have time to track people down." I'm sure I sound worried, but I like Willow and I don't want her to hurt herself. Then there's my sister, who it took almost an hour to convince to get out of town. Whom I should probably call and get back here to fight for her life. How groovy. "If there are other Slayers in the city, either they'll show up to help, or they won't. My question is, what do I do about Joy?"

There’s a second of silence on the other end of the line. “Call her.” Willow’s voice is so stern, it almost makes me jump. “Get her back here, now. Here’s Gunn, he’ll give you directions to the Hyperion for her. And have her bring more weapons, if you haven’t already. I'll be by as soon as I can get there, to do the protection spells, and finalize the assignments." Before I can reply, she's handed the phone over.
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Penelope

It’s been a strange few days. On Monday, Tom and I met with what felt like a hundred caterers for the wedding, and I know we should have done it earlier, we only have two months left and a lot of places were too booked up to work with us, but we just kept putting it off for one reason or another. Like, the eight funerals we've been to since we got engaged for example.

Then Jezzie calls to tell me she's having dinner with William the Bloody, and she's won our long-standing bet that she'd discover his true identity; and has confirmation that William the Bloody was, in fact, William Spenser. We've been arguing over this ever since she started working on her thesis. I really did think William Pratt was a more likely candidate, but then, I'm not the vampire expert. And, oh, BTW; the world might be ending, wish you were here.

This is an adventure I didn't expect. I should be at work, or planning my wedding; or anywhere in Arizona for that matter. Instead, I'm in Los Angeles, researching a prophecy I've spent ten years saying is a myth, because it's about to come true. You'd think I'd get used to strange, but I never do.

Willow freaked Merry out, I think, when she called earlier. I don't know what it was all about, but after she told us Willow was coming over, she felt the need to stop everyone's research, and give us a little lecture on Slayers and demon-human hybrids. I'm not sure what the whole thing was actually about, exactly. Whatever, I'm not a Slayer line expert, so I'm out of my depth once again.

Other than my wicked stake-throwing skills, I'm really not sure why I felt the need to come. I mean, I already miss Tommy like crazy, and we're both gonna be in trouble if we have to go more than a few days without reconnecting.

I decide to take some time and rewrite everyone's research neatly, so I can piece this mess together. I wish I'd had time to tap a few more libraries, but the only books I could get to quickly were mine and Mindy’s. If we survive this, which I think we will, we really need to work on developing a database of who has what and where.

The Guardians are still troubling me, they have for years. How can two forces of such strength, independent of the two Champions, be the driving force in saving the world? They’re supposed to be involved in some kind of ‘final test’ according to Devoir. If you’re a Champion, sanctioned by the Powers, what constitutes a final test?

I miss my father painfully, at times like these. He was one of the most brilliant people I’ve ever met, and I know Jezebel and her mother, so that’s saying something. Dad would have been able to figure this out, I just know it.

It’s all about halves, or pairs, I'm starting to think. The two vampires with souls acquired them in opposite ways, they’ve traveled drastically different paths to get to this point, and they have very different priorities and goals.

William the Bloody was the mate of a Potential, and is likely the mate of our current head Slayer. My Dad always referred to the current Slayer as Sineya, because she filled the shoes of the First Slayer, and the Slayer line is drawn from the clan of Sineya. So, he’s the mate of Sineya mentioned in the prophecy, I guess.

William and I are here without our mates. I know none of the other Slayers here are mated. Wesley is single; Jezzie told me when she mentioned he was here. Maybe that’s part of it; us all being unfinished halves of mating pairs? If that figures in at all, it must mean that Angelus won’t technically Shanshu, that he’ll become part of the Slayer line. Or, it has nothing to do with anything.

I can’t focus on any one thing too long, so I move on to the Aurelian part of the prophecy. The power to grant the Champions their reward will be drawn from the demonic life force of the Aurelian line. So do they all become human, or dust? I’m banking on all of them dusting, based on the repeated use of the word destruction. So, no more Aurelian line. Which brings me to the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart.

Traditionally, the three animals represent aspects of the Powers; the ‘Dark Side of the Force’, if you will. I’m back to duality, again; that seems like the key to this whole thing. Wolfram & Hart, the demon law firm, are their agents in this dimension. The prophecy states that the day will be won when the Wolf, Ram, and Hart are forced to give up their supremacy in our world, and finally surrender to the light. I’d bet my favorite shoes that losing one of the most powerful and prominent vampire clans, as well as every member of the Circle of the Black Thorn, would be enough; especially if we can defeat the army of the Senior Partners.

The Child of Vampires will be abandoned by his parents, and reclaimed by the Child of Sineya. As far as I know, Buffy doesn't have a kid. Maybe it's a metaphor? Except, the rest of that paragraph is way too specific.

And the Destroyer…I have no clue how to interpret this stuff. The Destroyer is an agent of good and evil, and will pick it's side for each battle. The Destroyer is the Key to this reality. And why the hell is Key capitalized?

My head hits the table, and I bang it for good measure, moaning in frustration. We're never gonna figure this out.
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Elise

I know all the answers.

The strange thing about seeing the future, is that people believe prediction is somehow separate from free will. It's not. I see what will happen based on the choices of those around me; the choices they will make based on who they are. Everything will play out the way it is supposed to, based on who we are, so there is no reason to share what I know right now. Actually, telling people what's coming will sometimes cause them to act in a manner that goes against their instincts, and change the future.

So, I keep my mouth shut, even though it would ease my sisters' minds to know what's coming. Because, easing their minds is not worth two of them dying, which is what will happen if I tell them. They'll just have to be okay with being unprepared.

My Watcher is banging her head against the table, and as amusing as it is, it comes from frustration. "Miss Penny?" She looks up at me, resting her chin on the table. "It'll be alright. You'll see. The research isn't as important as you think it is." No, what's really important is that you relax and focus on the fight, because if you die, Lady Sineya will have big problems.

Miss Penny blinks at me, frowning. I can tell she's caught between acting like I've reassured her when I haven't, and yelling at me for trying to get out of research. Then she pulls back, in that way she has, and looks at the papers spread out before her. She looks back up at me, and our eyes hold for a minute before she turns to Merry, Laurie, and Apple. The other Slayers are all buried in books and papers, and Apple at least has been up all night. Miss Jezebel went to pass out on the couch not too long ago.

After studying the others for what feels like a really long time, she nods and starts gathering her papers. "Ladies?" Her voice is strong and clear as she attracts their attention. "Why don't you finish what you're doing, and start cleaning this stuff up. I'll get some lunch together." Laurie, naturally, nods and cleans up right away. Apple ignores her, happy to be immersed in a book. Merry looks puzzled, but tired, and nods at Miss Penny before returning to her research.

The three of us gather up Miss Penny's summary pages with our completed research, and all the books that aren't being used, and place them in the boxes. Before we get far, the doorbell rings. Merry bolts out of her seat, and I smile because years from now, that will still be her reaction to Willow's arrival. Their ending is unclear, but the affection between them will always be there.

When Merry enters the room, Willow in tow, I have to suck in a giggle, because I can see the small purple streamers of emerging affection in their auras. Miss Penny almost chokes; I can tell the second she sees it. The nice thing about seeing auras, and spending so much time with someone else who has the gift, is that we've both been able to hone the skill. Also, it makes me feel less crazy, that when I see colors floating around the room, someone can back me up.

Willow has a lot of power, it's obvious when I shake her hand. She looks into my eyes, and I can tell that she senses something in me that she doesn't see very often. Her power touches mine in a way that most humans can't touch Slayers. And I understand another little piece of the puzzle. This woman is Sineya's bridge to humanity. It's one of those aspects of the prophecy we decided wasn't important enough to continue researching. A human will join with the Slayers, to remind Sineya of the people she defends. Or, at least that's the gist of it. And Willow is the bridge.

I expected her to be a Slayer, like Miss Penny and I, so there's a sense of disappointment, yet I'm fascinated. She wasn't born into this fight like the rest of us. Her involvement is truly and completely predicated on Buffy. Something in their makeup drew them together, something in Willow brings out the humanity in Buffy, and even if she weren't a witch, no one else in the world can do what she does by being a friend. It's one of the coolest things I've ever encountered.

I listen quietly, with something approaching awe, as Willow, Merry, and Miss Penny discuss what we're all doing tonight. Laurie wanders away to start making lunch, she must really be bored; and Apple still has her nose in a book. I keep watch, because I don't know what else to do, and I become anxious as the future rearranges itself around them.

My Watcher, who is over-protective to a fault, refuses to allow me to go with Wesley and Willow to fight the wizard-demon they'll be up against. Of course, it could also be because Miss Penny wants to see Wesley. I've never met the infamous Wesley, but I've been hearing about him since I was little. Miss Penny and he were very close at one time.

I will evidently be assisting Joy and a Pylean demon-guy in setting up a place for us to go after the battle. Merry talks about finding a demon doctor in case she's too injured to help anyone, and I decide to add some useful information. Who knows what it will change in the future, but I have to help with what I can.

"There's a Slayer's mate working in the emergency room at Good Samaritan." My remark is met with dead silence, and I freak out a little, because I startled everyone more than I meant to.

Willow stared hard at me for a minute, then turns to my Watcher. "Um, not to be a doubting Thomas…Or Thomasina, really because; you know, girl and all; but, um how accurate are Elise's visions, usually?

Miss Penny shakes herself slightly, which is a very strange relaxation technique she has, before she answers calmly. "They're not so much visions as a future-memory type thing; and they're always accurate unless she says something about them; sometimes they change because telling us what's coming changes the timeline, or a person's response."

"We weren't going to meet Ron for another year or so, but people are going to get hurt between now and then, and I thought maybe it would be okay to ask for help earlier, since he's going to help out later, anyway. He's very nice." He and Will bump heads a lot, but they don't need to know that now.

Willow nodded, and smiled at me. "Okay, thanks for the input. Do you know his full name, by any chance? Ron, you said was is first name?"

"Ronald Lieberman." Willow dutifully writes it down, and thanks me. Miss Penny just shakes her head. If possible, she looks more worried than she did before.

"Lise, I don't know if I like that you're changing things so close to us going into a big battle. Can you please not change anything else, please?" My eyes tear up, and I hate crying, but I can't help it. I'm trying to keep my Watcher, my surrogate big sister alive; and I'm getting a lecture on responsibility. I thought she understood that I'd never do anything to get her hurt.

Miss Penny shakes her head at my tears, and moves to take me in her arms. And I lose it, completely. There's no way I can lose her. Miss Penny is all I have left. Where would I go if she died? Would Tommy still want me around? Would any of the others care?

When I calm down, I realize that I must have been babbling, because the mood is much more subdued. Apple has the rest of the research off the table now, and is focused on the rest of the group. Miss Penny is holding me close against her side, trembling softly. Willow and Merry, I don't even think realize they're holding hands, and they're both staring at me.

I smile sheepishly. I hate crying, especially with other people around, but I feel much better now. I open my mouth to say something, I'm not even sure what, really; and it sinks into me, the knowledge that my Watcher refers to as future-memory. She's going to be okay. And since she asked me not to change anything, I close my mouth.
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Connor

That goddamn stupid, egotistical, careless, son-of-a-bitch vampire! I shift gears hard, nearly stalling the car, and it only pisses me off more. How dare he? I'm still trying to reconcile my life, you know? I have memories of two entire lives; and if that wasn't fucked-up enough, my parents still think they're my parents.

So, he wants to be a father, huh? Or, what he thinks I want in a father, anyway. He wants to pop into my life and act like my friend, all concerned and interested, and leave? How stupid does Angel think I am? There's no reason for him to confront me again so soon. The curiosity and guilt wouldn't have built up enough that he felt he had to see me. So, logically, what's the only reason he'd come visit? Duh, end of the world! Hello!

And then he left, without telling me. There was no warning, and he didn't actually say goodbye. Because, I guess, in order to say goodbye, he'd have had to tell me something. It would have been nice if he'd told me something, even if it was only 'hey, if I die, there's that cool sword at the Hyperion you can have'. Selfish prick. A little 'don't get killed' warning would have been nice.

After he left, I went back to the dorm, called myself out of classes and stuff for a week due to family problems; which sucks, because I have two tests this week; and got in the car. Hopefully I can make it to LA before that damn bloodsucker blows the whole town sky high.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Willow

Casting protection spells on Angel's friends was with the unanticipated weirdness. After what Spike told me last night, I looked specifically for a spell to protect demon-human hybrids, to use on the Slayers. Turns out, Wesley has enough demon-ness in him for me to use the Slayer spell on him. Which, is a really weird way to think about Wesley. I still remember him as the awkward wussy-guy we first met. But he's stronger than any of us knew, maybe stronger than he knows himself.

Gunn, on the other hand, doesn't have a lot of demon-type power. I was surprised when I found some demon blood in him; I'd been expecting it with Wes, but not with Gunn. It's there, but not nearly enough to protect him. I had to cast the original protection spell for him, with herbs and incantations and the whole thing.

Spike was surprised, I think, with the way I handled myself. And he helped me with the casting circle for Gunn, which is a big deal since he hates magick so much. I tried to convince Spike to let me cast a protection spell on him, too, but that was where his tolerance kerpluey-ed.

When I finished everything I could do to help them, Lorne went to get the supplies the rest of us had asked for. There was some snarking when Spike asked for a carton of cigarettes, and Gunn decided to ask for a basketball and hoop; after all, if Spike got to indulge his 'hobby', why shouldn't Gunn? The three of them argued, but Lorne managed to get both of them to back off before he left.

With Lorne gone, we were all quiet for a few minutes. Then, Gunn made his exit, telling us he had people to see today, and he should get going. Wesley went back to nursing Illyria, and Spike looked like he wasn't ready to move again, so I excused myself and took a cab to Jezebel's house, with the directions Merry gave me earlier.

You could have knocked me over; well, most people I hang around with can nock me over, but it would have been a whole lot easier than normal; when she called to say she was picking up two more Slayers at the airport, and I should meet them at the house. She did it again when she told me about her sister; shocked me, I mean. The girl just keeps surprising me. Which, I guess, really shouldn't surprise me. I mean, not after she's done it a couple of times.

The house is pretty; a little bungalow-type structure with black steps and shutters, and some cactus and other plants in the yard. I recognize an aloe plant as I walk past, but nothing else rings a bell. Then again, I don't know a whole lot about plants.

Merry answers the door, and pulls me down a hall into what turns out to be the dining room. Three teenagers; blonde, brunette, and redhead; and a woman with reddish-goldish hair are around a table piled with papers and books. The woman and two of the girls are cleaning up, while the blonde teen has her nose in a book.

Merry introduces me to the woman, Penelope Lane, who she studied with at the Watcher's Academy. I keep my mouth shut about her name being just like a Beatles' song, because I don't want to offend her, and some people with strange names are a little sensitive about them. Trust me, I've gone through life named Willow Rosenberg. The brunette teen is Penny's (I didn't call her that, Merry did) Slayer, Elise Huntington; and the blonde is Jezebel's Slayer, Apple Pratt. The redhead is Laurie Kent, Jezebel's adopted daughter. I shake hands with all of them, and I can feel the power in every one of these Slayers.

"Where's Jezebel?" I ask, once the introductions are finished. I wanna get this done, and go run some errands.

"She's sleeping; she left me in charge before she crashed, so I didn't think we should wake her for this." Penelope motions to a chair, and I sit cautiously. I'm starting to freak a little, and I don't want to show it.

"Well, I guess we should decide who's going where, huh?" I'm trying to sound chipper, but I'm way too nervous to sound like I mean it. Looking at the three teen Slayers at the table, and the knowing this is the first time I will fight anything without my friends, makes my stomach all squiggy. I'm really, really nervous.

Everyone is nice, and they seem interested in what I'm saying; except for Apple, who looks up from time to time but puts most of her attention into taking notes. After I explain about all the members of the Black Thorn we'll be fighting, Penelope offers to join up with Wesley and I. "I've had extensive magickal training; my father was a Watcher; he was one of Wesley's teachers actually."

I agree to bring her along, and we both agree that Elise should join Lorne in setting up the Hyperion. Apple and Laurie both seem excited to join their Watcher in carrying out Lindsay's duties, and then they lose interest in the conversation. Apple goes back to her research, and Laurie gets up and goes to start making lunch. Meredith is kinda pissy when I tell her what her assignment is. "I bloody well fight vampires every night; you couldn't 've found me something a tad more interesting?"

She blatantly refuses to bring Joyce with her and Gunn, so Meredith's little sister will join Elise and Lorne. Then, Merry brings up a point I hadn't thought of before. "We might want to think about getting a demon doctor to the Hyperion with Lorne and the girls. I can handle most wounds and some minor surgery myself if we have the right equipment; but I'll be fighting, and we'll be in a big fat cork-screw if I get hurt."

"Hmm, that's a good point." Penelope furrows her forehead like she's thinking deep thoughts.

I'm about to ask why we'd want to have a demon doctor around, when Elise puts a few cents in. "There's a Slayer's mate working in the emergency room at Good Samaritan."

I whip my head around and focus on the younger Slayer with a look of blank panic. No one speaks, so I assume their reactions were like mine. To calm myself and make sense of this new weirdness, I focus on everything I've seen and heard during the strangeness that has been my trip to LA. What sticks out is Spike's story about his past, Merry's comments this morning about Penelope and her fiancé and their connection, and something I read a long time ago in one of Giles' books about certain species of demons mating for life, like penguins. Well, I didn't learn that during this trip, but it seems relevant somehow. And yet, not the most important thing.

I search Elise's eyes, and find inside myself the sense-memory of touching her hand. She has powers beyond many of the Slayers I teach. After years of dealing with Buffy's prophetic dreams, and now with my own students; I know the information gained through 'Slayer' dreams is not always accurate. More often the dreams are a metaphorical warning or promise. If a Slayer is also a seer, that's different; then their visions are always incredibly accurate and detailed as far as I've seen.

I direct my questions to Penelope. "Um, not to be a doubting Thomas…Or Thomasina, really because; you know, girl and all; but, um how accurate are Elise's visions, usually?

Penelope shakes herself slightly; like she's a wet dog, or shivering from cold; but she sounds very calm when she speaks. "They're not so much visions as a future-memory type thing; and they're always accurate unless she says something about them; sometimes they change because telling us what's coming changes the timeline, or a person's response."

"We weren't going to meet Ron for another year or so, but people are going to get hurt between now and then, and I thought maybe it would be okay to ask for help, since he's going to be around later, anyway. He's very nice." Elise sounds a little upset that we're not grateful for the information, which makes my skin crawl, because now I'm all wondering who's going to get hurt.

I really want to ask questions, but I understand completely what Penelope meant, about how discussing the future can change it. I've learned a lot about control the last few years; most importantly, that I don't always need to have it. So, I let it go.

I nod, and try to smile reassuringly at her, because she's started shifting nervously and chewing the end of her ponytail. "Okay, thanks for the input. Do you know his full name, by any chance? Ron, you said was is first name?"

"Ronald Lieberman." She takes her hair out of her mouth to tell me, and immediately puts it back in. I write it down and thank her politely, wondering how to get this guy to help us.

Penelope shakes her head, looking worried, and returns her attention to her Slayer. "Lise, I don't know if I like that you're changing things so close to us going into a big battle. Can you please not change anything else, please?"

I understand her point, I really do. There's so much we can't predict in this situation, throwing in more variables seems like a really dumb idea. But, as I watch Elise's eyes tear up, I feel guilty. Even if I wasn't the one to say anything, I still feel really horrible, like I personally made the little girl cry. Penelope must feel it, too, because she pulls her Slayer into a hug. You'd think the hugging would calm her, but Elise starts sobbing harshly; and as she gasps for air she starts to babble.

"Don't want…Watcher…Big sister…Dying…Need her…Alive…Never do…Hurt her… Two Slayers…So much blood…Can't leave…Me alone…"

Penelope turns white, and Merry grabs my hand and squeezes too hard. Apple drops her book, and it clatters to the floor forgotten. Wow, okay, so now I get why Elise has been paying attention to everything we've said since I got here, and why she's been so nervous. Penelope hugs her tighter as Elise continues to sob and babble. Other than the part about Penelope dying, I don't understand most of it, but Merry keeps squeezing my hand, so I guess she's processing the stuff that goes over my head.

After a few more agonizing minutes, where the rest of us are frozen, Elise calms to quiet hiccoughs and sniffles. The little Slayer looks pretty miserable, and Penelope is visibly shaking. I'm trying to think of a way to bring the conversation around to the protection spells, when Elise suddenly relaxes against her Watcher and smiles faintly. I may be the only person who sees it, but it makes me feel a lot better. I don't say anything, though. It's healthy for them to be worried about one another.

The quiet's starting to make me nervous, and my fingers are aching, so I go for the distraction. "So, I'll need to cast protection spells on all of you. Who wants to start?" I try to find a place between respectful and cheerful to put my voice. Elise grabs her Watcher by the wrist and raises her hand, and it breaks the tension when the rest of us laugh.

The actual castings are quick and easy; Jezebel sleeps through hers, and Laurie and Penelope make lunch while I work around them. Penelope has been fluttering with nervous energy, and I get that, but I just don't know what to do about it. My final casting is Merry, and once I'm done, she meets my eyes. She has really pretty brown eyes.

"So." Merry pops up out of the chair facing mine. "What's next?"

I take a deep breath as I watch her bounce nervously. This is quite possibly the worst time I could've picked to be interested in someone, what with the world about to end. But, it's not like we can really choose these things. "How would you like to visit the Emergency Room at Good Samaritan with me?"

A huge smile spreads across her face. "It's a date! Let's blow this pop stand."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lorne

I haven't been to the Hyperion in I don't know how many months, and neither has anybody else, judging by the dust that's simply everywhere. It almost makes me long for Spikeykins' drab little hole of an apartment. But, despite the dust and the stuffy air, it's somewhere to hang our proverbial hats, now that the realm of evil lawyers is closed to us.

I only have a few hours before the special appearance my agent set up for me, so I'd better get cracking if I want this place to feel like home sweet home when the kiddies arrive. Little Willow, bless her heart, is sending me a couple of Slayers to help out, and she promised to stop by herself with more supplies.

It's nice to have someone around who appreciates that my talents lie more in the area of organizing and decorating than fighting. I have to admit, I feel a little left out of the whole 'relaxing day, preparing for battle' thing, but I'm a lover, not a fighter. Since Lindsay's out of our collective hair, thanks again Willow, I'm much happier to help out. Not that I was unhappy to help before. I was more…Unhappy with the path Angel's been following, and I'm still not thrilled about that. Still, as they say in the biz, the show must go on.

I lug the huge pile of stuff I got inside; luckily without breaking a nail, although I think I pulled a muscle in my back; and start putting up the groceries. When I get back to the lobby, ready to grab a bag of bedding and head upstairs, there are two women waiting for me. The older, taller gal has fox-fur-colored hair and a splash of freckles across an elven-looking face. The other is a cute-as-a-button brunette teen with huge brown eyes and a coppery tan, who looks less like a Slayer than an oversized doll. "Well, hello ladies. Aren't you two just the most delicious sights I've seen in ages." They both start when they hear me, but neither of them seems afraid or surprised by what I look like. "I'm Lorne, by the way. Who might you little dumplings be?"

The little one drops her backpack, and bounces toward me. "Hi, Lorne, I'm Elise. I'm here to help. What do you need help with?" By the time she bounces to a stop about six inches in front of me, I'm grinning like I haven't grinned in a long time. She spins around and points at the other Slayer, who's smiling like she can't help herself. "That's Miss Penny, she's my Watcher. She's gonna help, too, until Willow and Merry get here; then she's gonna go help Willow with some magic stuff." The little snack-cake shrugs her shoulders. "They won't let me help, even though I'm really good at the magic stuff; Mr. Lane told me I was a very promising student." She frowns and glares at her Watcher, who glares back.

They're so cute, I can't even stand it. Miss Foxy-Penny meets my eyes and smiles. "Hey, Lorne, I'm Penny. It's nice to meet you." She steps forward to give my hand a firm shake. "So, what do we do first?" Gotta love that take-charge attitude, it's very Slayerly.

The girls help me carry the bags upstairs, and starting with the closest room in the right hand wing, we begin making up the beds and clearing out dust and debris. Luckily there are no rats at the Hyperion, but there's still plenty of broken plaster, peeling wallpaper, and other yucky old junk laying around in the unused rooms. Cordykins kept ahead of the decay as best she could, but there never seemed to be enough time to go through every room and clear it out.

About an hour into our little project, Penny hears a voice in the lobby, and we all go investigate. A snackable little blonde girl and a brand new pile of boxes and bags are waiting for us. "Hey, Penny." The girl waves as she spots us, and grabs an animal carrier and a suitcase as she heads up the stairs.

Penny waves and turns back to me to make the introductions. Not only is she a hard worker and a cheerful person, she has excellent manners. "Lorne, this is Joy, Joyce Cunningham. She's going to be staying here with you and Lise until we all meet up." Joy puts down her bags to shake my hand, more cautious than the others. "Joyce, this is Lorne, he's an anagogic demon, from a dimension called Pylea. He's one of the people we're helping."

I'm sensing that the shy blonde Slayer wasn't a potential, and darling Penny is trying to reassure her. Still, the little one has pluck, and soon she's joking along with us, repeating Elise's earlier complaint about having to sit out the first wave, but offering to help set up the rooms and to cook. While we were getting comfortable with one another, the carrier at Joy's feet started mewing pitifully, and eventually the cat has all of our attention.

"I couldn't find all of Merry's cats, when I went to get her stuff." Joy explains quietly. "Just two. Mackey is downstairs, then Tasha here." She nudges the carrier with her foot. "I guess I should put them and Merry's bag in a room, so they're out of the way. She'll kill me if they run off or anything."

We pick one of the clean rooms for her big sister and the little hairballs, and while she runs down for the other cat, Penny explains that Merry was a Potential. Elise makes a little sign for the door, warning people about the cats inside, and we let them frolic around the room as we move on with the cleaning.

We find the next few rooms stripped of furniture, one of them with ancient police tape still partially over the door. Penny suggests moving on to the next furnished room, but the others say they don't mind moving furniture, and personally I'd rather keep my friends close, so I direct the tough tidbits to start bringing in furniture from the farthest rooms first.

It's a big job, even for the rooms that just need to be dusted and fixed up with new sheets and towels. The girls are insistent that we salvage the old linens, and they're probably right, since I'm already short a set of sheets. Thankfully, Joy says she panicked and brought way too much stuff with her, including sheets and towels. The girls and I create a huge laundry pile by flinging the dirty things down into the lobby.

By the time we've cleared out twelve rooms so that they're habitable, Willow appears at the door with another adorable little brunette girl; and a handsome-if-scrawny young guy with dark receding hair. "Hey, guys. This is Merry, Lorne. Lorne, Merry. And everyone, this is Ron Lieberman. He's a doctor, and he's going to stick around in case anyone gets hurt."

"It's nice to meet you." Penny is the first to greet the new guy, and she introduces him to everyone else cheerfully and politely. He seems like a quiet guy, a bit shy with strangers like Joy, but he's also polite and interested in everyone.

"It's an honor to help." Ronny tilts his glasses back and forth on his face, his eyes traveling over all of us. "I've met a few demons, killed a few vamps, and I've even met a few demon-human hybrids. But I've never been involved in anything like this before; anything this noble, and I want to thank you for asking me. I promise I'll do my damndest to keep you all alive."

In the ensuing silence, where I for one am humbled; Merry grabs her sister, thanking her profusely for bringing the cats. Everyone has a good laugh and we all relax. Once we're calm again, Joy gets everyone's attention. "Well, looks like we have at least four more rooms to fix up, and I haven't had a chance to unpack Merry's weapons yet, or put away the non-perishable foods I brought. We should get a move on."

"Joy's right." Merry tugs on her sister's blonde ponytail. "If I can make a few suggestions? I say Ron chooses a room toward this end of the hallway, so there's someone with first aid close to everyone. I'll stay where Joycie put me. Someone should call Jezzie, and ask her to empty her medicine cabinets and linen closet. I'll sort my weapons and anything else weapon-like that comes in, then run out for perishables and first aid supplies…"

"I have some stuff in my car, if you wouldn't mind getting it." Penny pulls out a set of keys and tosses them to the shorter Slayer. "We didn't pack much beyond a couple of changes of clothing and the books, but we did stop and get a few sleeping bags, new pillows, and a few first aid supplies."

Ron looks around the room we're just about done fixing up. "If it's alright with everyone, I'll bring my stuff up here. Once the rooms are set up, I'll head over to the medical supply store to get what we don't have." He walks out into the hall, opening the door across from his. Most of us follow, but Joy and Elise stay behind to sweep away the last of the dust. The room hasn't been touched yet, and he peers around inside it. It has a double bed, but no other furniture. "Since I'm across the hall, we'll reserve this room for any serious injuries I might need to look after. Why don't you guys who are cleaning move off down the hall, and we'll come back to this room later; I can do it if the rest of you get tired. Also, if you have medical supplies, bring them here. Even if you have Midol in your purse or something, I'm gonna ask you to bring it in here for now. That way I'll know what I need to get." He wanders off to check out the bathroom, and I can hear him test the faucets and toilet, banging open the cabinets and closets as he goes.

"Umm, ladies." They all turn to focus on me, and I smile a little sheepishly. "My agent got me a gig this afternoon, so I'm going to have to leave you. I'll be back in four hours or so. Before I go, I want to offer the Doc one of Wes' old filing cabinets for medical supplies, if one of you will help me carry." Elise waves her hand out the door, smacking her Watcher in the process, and I chuckle at her energy and cuteness. They're all nice girls, but something in little Lisey speaks to me. Penny drags the Cunningham sisters with her to the next bedroom, and Willow-tree goes to talk to the Doc, while Dollface and I head down the stairs.

In the lobby is another toy-sized Slayer; blonde and petite, yet coltishly thin, wearing cowboy boots and a ten-gallon hat. She drops a suitcase and several plastic bags on the floor, before grinning up at us. "Hey, y'all. Who's the green guy, Lise?"

Elise greets the other Slayer, introducing her as "Apple Pratt, from Texas," and introducing me as "Lorne, from Pylea." Apple reminds me of Fred in some ways, but is really almost nothing like her, other than being a female from Texas. She does, however, seem excited to help.

"Jezzie and Laurie are bringin' more stuff in from the car." Apple snaps her gum, which makes me wince. "Ay just need to go help them out, then we kin help move those filing cabinets for y'all." Almost before she's done speaking she takes off, and Lise and I exchange a look before we head after her. Outside a black-haired woman and a little redheaded girl are arguing as they unload the back of a minivan. I shudder at the heinous evil that is the minivan, but I hold it together long enough to get through some more introductions.

Once the evil minivan is empty, Penny and Willow are in the lobby with Elise, waiting to give Jezebel instructions; the other younglings have vanished upstairs. Jezebel. Man, were her parents psychic or what; I don't believe I've seen many women more tempting than her.

The instructions snap me back to the present. Time for me to fill in the last few blanks, and be off. "The kitchen is over here." I lead them in that direction, and usher them inside. "Everything should work, if something's broken, there are repair numbers here," I hold up a pad with notes in Cordelia's precise handwriting. "Not that you'll be able to get anyone here before I get back. There's a walk in fridge around that corner, and the deep freeze is through it. I already put some stuff in, and I'm not real sure what's in the cabinets, so make a list before anyone shops."

I dig around for a pen, and flip to a blank page. "Here's my cell number. Use it, leave detailed messages, I always check them. Willow has it on her phone, too. Wesley's old office is across the lobby, near the elevator. Any file cabinets and shelves in there that aren't nailed into the walls, you girls are free to move up to the infirmary for Doc. They should all be empty. Oh, and if you want to spar," I lead them down the hall and show them the basement door. "At the bottom of the stairs, on the far left. Anything else you lovelies need?"

They shake their heads, and wish me luck. Elise grabs me in a big bear hug, and whispers in my ear. "It'll be nice to have another seer around, won't it?" Before I can respond she's bolted, and I need to leave, so I have to wait to pick her little-girl brain. I suddenly feel lighter than I have in months, even though I have no clue what's going on.

Fade Away Again, Chapter 11
********
Gunn

After I helped Anne get the new donations moved, and found my boys, I hauled ass over to the Hyperion. Man, it's messed up being in a place where you used to hang, and then haven't in a while. I recognized everything, but it felt trippy.

Now, Wes and Spike warned us about the Slayers, but I wasn't prepared for a bunch of fine young things. A few of them are too young to think about that way, but man, they are all hot. Willow’s talking with a couple of chicks her age, while the younger ones are training with a woman I guess is a Watcher. Or maybe a senior Slayer, I’m not too clear on how that all plays out.

The girls with Red look me over, and I strut toward them, make sure there’s something to notice. No telling if I’ll ever see another honey; if one of the super girls is willing, I’m not gonna turn them away. Live today like it’s your last, the boss man said…

Willow waves at me. “Gunn! Charles Gunn, this is Merry Cunningham, and Jezebel Neves. Merry’s gonna go with you to the Senator’s office. To back you up, as your backup…”

“Hey.” Mary, who is a sweet little brunette, breaks in on Willow and shakes my hand.

“Mary, nice to meet you.” I nod and smile, trying to work the charm.

“No, not Mary. Merry, like Christmas.” She shrugs. “It’s short for Meredith. So…I hear there are vampires.” She rolls her eyes, like she thinks she got stuck doing the grunt work…Or maybe that’s me, because that’s where I’m at.

“Yeah, I’m kinda the low man on the totem pole…It’s cool, though. Me and the fangs go way back, to before I hooked up with Soulful. We’ll get it done, and be back in plenty of time for the big show.” She grins, looking 'bout as ready as I feel to get there and get back.

“Hello.” The other girl steps past Red, drawing herself up to her full height, which is only about an inch shorter than me. “Not to rush your bonding or anything, but it’s about time for Willow to grab Penny and get going. Merry, why don’t you get Gunn here set up. Get his stuff to his room and everything. I'll take over the last-minute training.”

I blink at her take-charge Slayer-ness. “No need to worry ‘bout me, all I brought was myself, and my weapons.” I push my sleeves out of the way to reveal two wrist sheaths full of stakes, then show them the axe and dagger in my belt. “I’m all good to go.”

“You didn’t bring clothes or anything?” Tall, dark and fine looks at me like she don’t understand going into battle without a change of clothes ready. Maybe she doesn’t. Probably wears makeup out to slay the vamps, from looking at her.

“Left my stuff at Spike’s, didn’t wanna be draggin’ it around all day, might draw the wrong kind of attention. Like I said, don’t stress about me. I’ve got a couple things in my truck, and I probably left a shirt or somethin’ behind from when I was living here. It’ll be a few days before I start to stank up the place.”

I came here to check on them and see the old place again, just in case I don’t get the chance later. I’m not gonna think about the slick suits and expensive toys I left at Wolfram & Hart, or the few things I bothered to take when I stormed out yesterday, now dumped in Spike’s living room. I’m not gonna think about my boys from the old gang, getting ready to patrol downtown tonight for stray demons. I’m just gonna get through this, and tomorrow I’ll think about everything else.

Willow nods, and changes the subject. “Well, anyway, there are rooms up that way, all cleaned up with fresh sheets and towels…And we got a doctor to help. His name’s Ron, he’ll hang out here for a couple of days, in case we need him.” She waves towards the second floor hallway behind her. She smiles a little hesitantly at me, then walks over to separate the older Slayer from the trainees, leaving them rudderless until Jezebel wanders off to take over. Red and her buddy head towards Wes’ old office; guess that’s where they have the magic stuff set up.

I’m left standing with Merry. “I’m in charge of weapons. Let me go set up everyone’s stuff, then we can roll. It’ll take a while to get there and get into position.” I nod, and follow after her. After all, I got nothin’ better to do for a while, and I should probably get to know my partner...

“So, you from around here?” Okay, that was so lame I’m ashamed of myself, but nothing works better for getting to know someone than getting-to-know-you questions.

Girlfriend just smiles, like she has no idea how uncool I just was. “I grew up in the hills, lived here until I was 9. Then I lived in England 'till I was out of college, and then I did some traveling during my Watcher training; India, Cambodia, Israel & Palestine, Ethiopia, Hawaii. I’ve been back living here for a little over a year. I gave up Watcher-ing, and decided to go to med school. Second semester, suddenly my little sister and I are Slayers.” Life history in under 100 words. I think I like her. She leads me into the kitchen, of all places, where every weapon in the Hyperion has found a home.

I whistle, looking over the piles. “Check out the heavy artillery.” I watch as she moves around the room. Since she’s not gonna ask, I’ll just tell her about myself. “I grew up in East LA, met Angel while I was part of a vamp hunting gang back in my hood. Been helping out ever since.”

“Never left LA, huh?”

“Not for long.” I shrug. “Never felt like leaving. Plenty of vamps to take out right here in the city.”

She nods, and grabs a messenger bag from a stack. She loads it with stakes and holy water, slings it over her shoulder cross-wise, and pulls a scabbard over the other way. Then she starts sorting the rest of the weapons into piles, throwing what looks like random things into the different bags, making separate piles around each.

She must have a plan, though, because when a little blonde girl pops in, she points to an orange bag. “Your stuff’s in that one. I put in plenty of daggers, and there’s a short-sword on the island set aside for you.” She turns from where she’s fastening a strap of throwing knifes to a pink bag with safety pins. “Apple, Gunn. Gunn, Apple.” Blondie nods and waves at me, and grabs a short sword from the island where Merry waved her. I have no clue how she figured out which one. The girls hug and wish each other luck, before Apple grabs the orange bag and heads back out to the lobby.

In a few minutes the mess of weapons is straight, and Merry points to the pile she hasn’t touched yet. “You want anything else, grab it.” She walks over to the pile, and grabs another sword and a throwing axe of her own, before she steps back and lets me look. I grab a few bottles of holy water for my pockets. Not much more I can carry.

Back in the lobby, Willow is loaded down with another messenger bag, and her helper rushes over to grab Merry and hug her, before throwing me a “Good luck!” and heading for her own weapons pile.

The other blonde, older than Apple, comes up to Merry next. “Good luck, sis.” Then she turns to me. “Hey, I’m Joy, Merry’s sister. She gets dead, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

Great, another take-charge type. Still, this one I can work with. “Then I guess she’s gonna have ta make it back.” I smile and try to look reassuring, because I get her. If I coulda sent some bad-ass out with my sister everywhere she went, I know I would have. She nods and shakes my hand, and turns back to the girls she was training with; Apple, the other two young ones, and Jezebel, who looks about a million miles away.

Then it’s just us and Red. “Good luck. I’ll see you in a few hours.” She nods at me, then turns to Merry. “Goddess go with you.”

Merry smiles, and grabs Willow, smashing their lips together. Wow, so I guess my chances of hooking up are kinda shot. She pulls away, and looks the witch in the eye. “When this is all over, we’re gonna have to talk. I just wanted to do that, in case I don’t get another chance.” Then Merry turns to me. “Ready?”

I follow her out of the Hyperion with a smile on my face. Looks like she’s got a lot to live for. No reason I can’t borrow some of her reasons, if I have a hard time finding my own.
********

Willow

I've done everything I possibly can to help. I've cast protection spells on everyone, I've gotten Buffy's advice on our plans, gotten the Slayers ready, and heard about the prophecy regarding this battle. I even figured out how to protect everyone's cell phone signals from interference, so we could use them. It's been a busy day, and there's still lots more to do.

Penny fidgets as she drives; she taps the steering wheel, strokes the gearshift, changes radio stations over and over; it's exhausting just to watch. I sit quietly, and just watch the scenery go by. "Why are you worried?" Penny asks me, out of the clear blue silence. Not that silence has a color; but when they say, out of the clear blue, what is it exactly that's clear and blue…Okay, babbling. Not good. I make myself snap out of it and focus on Penny, who is trying to watch me and the road at the same time.

"Who says I'm worried? I mean, I'm not the one who’s fidgeting, you…Fidgeter, you. You look worried, to me." I try to look stern, to convince her that I'm not worried at all, no sir, not me. I don't think she's believing me.

"I say you're worried. I can see it in your aura. You're very troubled, and you shouldn't be. Because we're going to win. And we're all gonna live, and I'll be back in Arizona by Monday." She's smiling as she says all this, without a trace of irony or sarcasm or anything. It's weird.

I shake my head and try to think of how to respond. Because, I think she deserves some type of response, I'm just not sure what to say or do. I mean, I know about auras; that's not the weird part. How do I explain this sense of responsibility I have for all of them? How can I tell her I got her and her friends into this mess? And, how do I tell her about my friends, and how strange and wrong it feels to try to save the world without them, and how the longer I'm here in LA, the more I feel the tug of magicks I know better than to mess with, but have such a hard time resisting.

"How do you know?" I finally ask. "I mean, how can you be absolutely sure that everything will be fine; that we'll live, and that Wolfram & Hart won't win; or that Spike and Angel won't die, or that…"

"Willow…" Penny twists her engagement ring around on her finger with one hand, steering the car with the other. "Some things, you just know. It doesn't matter if you have a direct line to the Goddess, or how many friends or enemies you have; things will come out the way they're meant to. You know how life and magicks work. What will be, will be."

I nod, because she's right, I know all this. For some reason, it's just not helping right now. I watch her fidget with her ring, and analyze the set of her shoulders, determined and focused. "You're really not scared, or worried, or anything?" I'm sure I sound whiny, but I really just need to know. I've faced the end of the world at least 8 times, even tried to cause it once. I don't think Penny's ever done this before. So, how the heck is she staying so calm, while I'm an ever-lovin' basket case?

"Willow…I know you haven't known me long, but let me give you a brief intro. Penny 101 goes like this. I always get my way. Always. The only thing on this entire planet I would really be lost without is my fiancé, Tom. I've wanted to marry Tommy since the moment I laid eyes on him. We've mated, we're joined to one another for the rest of our lives. We're getting married on July 3rd. If you think the world's gonna end before July, you're insane, because there is no way I would possibly allow that. And, remember point 1; I always get my way. Ergo, the world is not ending this weekend, and I'm heading back to Arizona on Monday. Got that?"

I smile, I can't help it. I've gotta say, I'm not normally a big fan of crazy people. In this case, though…Penny sounds so obviously insane, that she may just have the right idea. And I have to admire that determination. I mean, even if it sounds way wacky on the surface, there is logic to what Penny's saying. Of course, it's an illogical, power-of-positive-thinking type of non-logic, but it makes sense. After that speech, I wouldn't want to be the fate that crossed this Slayer.
********

Wesley

Illyria's words echo in my mind as I head towards the meeting point. I’m not what you want. Truer words were never said. There is still a part of me that never wants to see Illyria again; that wants to pay her…It back for killing Fred. Then there is the part of me which feels sympathy for the God trapped in a human body against its will. A part that says perhaps I should have taken the offer to spend some time with Fred’s memory today, while I have the chance.

Six Slayers, two master vampires, a God in a mortal body, a witch, and two humans; against the Circle of the Black Thorn, and the might of the Senior Partners of Wolfram & Hart. It seems an understatement to say that we’re fighting tremendous odds, and that we have only the slightest chance of making it out of this battle alive. Then again I’ve seen a single Slayer go up against worse odds and win; I’ve seen both Spike and Angel fight demons more powerful than themselves, and survive if not win. Willow, if Spike’s word is anything to go by, is more powerful than I ever could have imagined when I first met her. Perhaps, then, our combined resources will turn the battle in our favour.

I still do not feel entirely confident of my own survival. Not that self-preservation is my top priority. Ensuring that certain people do not live past tonight, is. Beginning with Vail.

I was telling the truth when I said Illyria’s words on vengeance were inspirational. Even if my path is uncertain, and the line between truth and illusion increasingly blurry; vengeance can be had. Not only for myself, but for Fred and Cordelia, Angel and Connor; even for Lilah, although her pains were much of her own making. If love and hope cannot guide me, let vengeance.
********

Connor

The driving to LA helps calm me down, some. When it comes down to it, even with all these weird recovered memories, I don’t know Angel that well. I don’t know what kind of mess I’m riding into, only that it must be big, because he came to see me.

Now that I’m not so furious, I could turn the car around, I guess. Go back to campus, show up in class tomorrow with some story about my mother being hysterical, and my help wasn’t needed at home.

But then, I can’t. I’ve chosen my side, and I need to be there to fight. Some weird sense inside me says this is the only way. If Angel tries to brush me off again, it’s his funeral. This is my day.
********

Angel

I planned my schedule around meeting with the group at Spike’s again before I go after Hamilton, so there’s a block of time I don’t know how to fill. Eve’s apartment is empty, and smells heavily of magicks. Willow’s work, I’m sure. I can’t take a walk anywhere because the sun’s still out. The car is vamp-friendly, so I end up driving. After a few circles, I swing around towards the Hyperion. Not for any particular reason; just because I have nothing else going on.

The alley is just as I remember it, so I drive around the back. In the small parking lot is a minivan, a VW bus, and Gunn’s Wolfram & Hart-issue Escalade. I pull across the street, into another alley, and watch the back door for a while. Nothing goes in or out, and eventually I give up and keep driving.

This is someone else’s show; I can’t get involved with the Slayers just now. So, I drive, because there’s nothing more I can do.
********

Jezzie

We’re going to have to leave soon, but I just can’t make myself go. Penny and Merry are long gone. Apple is curled up on the lobby sofa, dead to the world, her weapons in arm’s reach; Laurie’s sleeping on the floor near the wall, her head pillowed on her own weapons bag. Lise is sitting on the steps, staring off into space. I don’t even want to know what’s going on in her head right now.

I’ve been trying to give Joyce some last minute instructions and training, but I know I’m not focusing, and neither is she. Not a God-damn thing I do at the eleventh hour will make up for the fact that the rest of us have been studying and training for years, while she hasn’t. She’s realized that, I think. After several hours training with the younger girls, she can see how very unprepared she is for tonight.

My eyes trace over the girls scattered around the lobby, my brain refusing to focus on whatever Joycie’s saying, when Elise and Laurie both snap to awareness. Laurie makes a straight line for Apple, while Elise comes to me.

“You need to go. Now.” I’ve never heard Lise give an order; it’s disconcerting. I can’t deny that it’s time, but that doesn’t f-ing make me feel better about it.

“Just let me…”

“No, Mom, we’ve gotta go now.” Laurie and Apple look like avenging angels, loaded down with weapons. Baby girl is glaring fiercely, but Apple’s Mona Lisa smile is a helluva lot more troubling.

Joyce sighs, and I turn to face her. “They’re right, it’s time. You’re not gonna make it to the club by seven if you don’t leave now. Elise and I will train a little more, while you’re gone.”

Lise smiles and motions me towards to door, and I give up. If there were any other Watchers around, I’d be a laughing stock. Nine years of training, six years in the field, and I’m being ordered around by a bunch of little girls. Frickin-a.

On the drive, Apple and Laurie huddle in the seat behind me, leaving the ‘shotgun’ seat for my pile-o-weapons. I can hear them whispering, but don’t catch the words, and any time I turn around they’re looking out the windows, or blinking back at me innocently. I hold in a sigh, and do my best to ignore them. Every one in a while they pull this twin crap on me, and I just have to ride it out. I wonder about it sometimes; how they got so close, so fast, when they have so little in common. Then I think about Mary Alice and I, and shrug it off. Sometimes, friendship just happens.

The drive feels like it takes forever, but it’s also over too soon, and as we climb out of the van and secure our weapons, I wish it had taken longer. I don’t know what to say to them.

When we’re all ready, Apple and Laurie both look at me, then turn and look at one another. Then they turn back to me, with a really frigging creepy coordination. “Cover our backs.” They chorus, and by the time I process what they just said, Apple has kicked the door down and they’re both inside. Jesus H Christ; when did I lose control of this situation?
********

Penny

“Right.” I nod at Willow. “No reason to draw this out. The faster we get in there and do some damage, the faster we get back.” I turn to look at Wes, who has a glimmer in his eyes I don’t like. “What do you think, Wesley? We go in, guns blazing?”

“I believe I should go in on my own; then you can cover me from outside, and…”

“And what, Wes?” Willow cuts in. “You have some tea, and wait for him to kill you? This…Jerk rearranged the fabric of reality. It’ll take all three of us, but we could demolish him in, like, two seconds. I say we go for it.”

He doesn’t look any more convinced, and I remember how very stubborn he can be. “You remember Dad’s ‘no Watcher is an island’ speech, Wesel?”

Wes’ eyes lock on mine. They’re so full of anger and sorrow, I want to shake him, but eventually he starts to look logical again. “Right. We go in together, then.”

We all straighten, and march towards the demon’s mansion, with Wes in the lead. Willow pushes the guards out of our path with a wave of her hand, and I draw a sword to fight them off in case they come back, which they do just as we reach the door. One draws a gun, which Wes pulls toward himself, while Willow pins him to the ground, and I slice the other. I finish the pinned guard with a quick stab through the heart, and when I turn, the others are already inside.

I walk past another bloody guard, towards an open doorway. As I enter, Wes shoots a ball of flames at a scrawny looking red demon, sending him crashing into the wall. He recovers more quickly than I would have imagined, and without thinking I run to protect Wes. The blast of power hits both of us, and we go down in a tangle of arms and legs. And, ouch.

For a few seconds I can’t see anything, but when I can move enough to roll away, I see Willow hit with another blast of energy. It doesn’t knock her over, though. It’s like she absorbs it. One second her aura is full of clear, bright colors; her nervousness from earlier abandoned in the fight. The next, it’s black and red. She shimmers like a mirage in the desert; and her hair and eyes bleed to black, then to dishwater grey, and then to a glowing white.

Wes stirs beside me, and our eyes meet. As one we stagger to our feet, and move to either side of Willow, taking her hands. The demon, Vail, is frozen in place, either by Willow’s power or by shock. As I lend my power to the goddess living through Willow, and feel Wes do the same, we suddenly know what we have to do.

“We know your magick, now.” Our voices join together in condemnation of the demon. “Your powers are filled with darkness; there is no place for you in the new order. By the power of the Goddess, and these representatives of the Tribe of Sineya, we hereby revoke your powers. We will all evil done by you, by your dark powers, in your name and by your will, to be undone. All the hurt you have inflicted upon the innocent will be rectified.”

We raise our hands, Willow’s still held by Wes and I, and a wind whips up around us. The wind slices into Vail, separating him from his powers, until he exists as no more than dust on the wind filling the room. The wind reaches through the house and out over the estate, through the city, the country, across the ocean, finally covering the whole world.

We cannot resurrect those who have been murdered, for they are gone beyond this plane. We cannot rewrite history, so that wrongs were not committed, for time is not ours to change. We can return possessions, dignity, and safety to those who lost by doing no wrong. We can close portals to dimensions which threaten mankind, and our people. We can restore memories and hope and free will to those stripped of theirs.

When the wind dies out, we all slump to the ground, exhausted. Willow’s hair brightens to red, and her aura returns to its natural shades. The Goddess, whoever She was, is gone, and I for one am exhausted. Unfortunately, there’s too much to do yet, to lay here and relax. After a second, I lift my head, and realize the house is gone. We’re laying on the grass, beneath a night sky filled with more stars than I would have expected in Los Angeles.

“Is it just me, or are the stars brighter than they were?” Wes asks, and I turn my head to look at him. He looks pale and drawn, and there’s a bleeding gash on his forehead, but he also looks about a million times happier than he did when I first saw him tonight.

Suddenly, clouds start to roll in. If I don’t miss my guess, they’re moving far faster than they should be. Well, that can’t be good. “Come on, Wes; we’d better get back to the Hyperion.”

As we’re struggling to our feet and waking up an extremely groggy Willow, a blue haired woman in body armor appears on the lawn. “You are unhurt.” Her voice is monotone, and her head tilts at an unnatural angle. “I killed all of mine…And I was…”

“Concerned?” Wes smiles faintly, staggering under Willow’s weight against his shoulder.

“I think so.” She looks faintly troubled by the idea, but barely a second passes before she turns her focus to Willow. “The vessel is weak. She must rest before she can hold that much power again. I will take her to the green one for assistance.”

I have no idea who or what this woman is; my senses are so out of whack, I can’t tell if she’s a demon or a very strange Slayer or what. “My car is down the hill, I can drive her back.”

Her gaze whips towards me. “I can get her there faster, taking the roofs. We will be there when you arrive.”

Before I can protest further, she’s scooped Willow out of Wes’ arms, and taken off so fast I didn’t even see it. I turn to Wesley, who is still smiling faintly. “I gotta say, Wesel, you have the weirdest friends.” Wes just chuckles, and slips his arm over my shoulder. We support one another down the hill, getting stronger as we go, until we reach my car.

Wes looks over to where his car was parked. It’s gone. I stare at the empty space for a second, then look back at Wes, who is now glowering. “Where in the bloody hell did my car go!” He growls, pulling away from me to look at the empty space. As he moves, the first raindrops fall.

“Wes, we don’t have time. Get in the car.” I let both of us in, and as soon as he closes the door I pull away. Wes is still grumbling, and I can’t help it; I start to laugh.

“What in the world is so funny, you little twit. Try to save the world, get your car bloody well stolen. Of all the nerve…”

I’m laughing so hard I can barely see the road now, and it takes a minute for me to calm down so that I can answer. “I’m just glad it was your car; mine’s a rental.”
********

Angel

“What was that?” Connor looks up at me, as the building begins to tremble.

“Wolfram & Hart. Looks like they’re taking the gloves off.” The floor jumps under our feet, and more of the ceiling starts to cave in.

“Remind me to kick your ass for not warning me about this.” Connor shouts to be heard over the building twisting and breaking. “Come on, we’ve gotta get out of here.”

I follow as he tears off down the hall and runs into a stairwell. “You need to go home. Get as far away from this as possible…”

“Like hell.” He yells without even turning around; just keeps on running. “I know you think the world revolves around you, but this is as much my fight as it is yours.” He hits a landing at the 8th floor and turns to meet my eyes as I catch up to him. “Wolfram & Hart erased my memories, they’ve kept me from doing what I was supposed to do. And, they almost destroyed my father.” He claps me on the back of the shoulder and takes off again, yelling over his shoulder. “No way do I sit back and let you get your ass kicked again. You need me, and I need to be here.”

The building shakes violently again, and I’m covered in a shower of concrete dust as I force my feet to move. We can argue once we get out of the building.
********

Next chapter: Everyone in an alley.

Illyria

I carried the red-headed witch toward the meeting point as quickly as I could. She needed recovery time, if she was to complete her purpose. The demon they call Lorne, who this shell remembered so affectionately, would assist her, the way Wesley assisted me.

There had been a change in the atmosphere of the area inhabited by Wesley, the witch I carried, and the other Sineyan female. I felt it spreading away from them, felt reality altering, shifting around me. The witch has great power; she can draw energy from the Sineyans, a difficult task due to their combined nature. They returned most of what the demon wizard Vail destroyed to its natural state. She will be useful in the future. In addition, this shell remembers her now. Fred wished to befriend the witch.

When I reach the building the others referred to as the Hyperion, Lorne is waiting in the central area with three young Sineyans, two female and one male. "The witch needs assistance." I hand her into the arms of the unknown male, following as he carries her up the stairs. "She is exhausted from magicks. She took power from the two Sineyans and served as a vessel for her earth goddess. She needs much rest, to rebuild her strength. She will likely have to call the goddess again to set this universe to rights."

No one asks me for further explanation, so once I am sure they will allow the witch to rest, I move towards the exit, and the coming battle.

Lorne stops my path when I am again in the central area. "Illyria…I just want to thank you for your help. You're doing a lot of good for a lot of people."

I want to tell him that I don't care about humanity, the worthless lower life forms; but it has become obvious that those I fight beside care a great deal. I retain the emotions of this shell; it has become harder to ignore them, since Wesley stripped some of my powers. Fred cared about humans. And now, there are other Sineyans about.

I doubt Wesley has yet realized what attributes qualify him, as they did Knox, to become my Qwa'ha Xahn. The half breeds retain the disturbing emotional attachments of their human ancestors, combined with the strength of their demonic ancestors, making them far less vulnerable than such soft shells would indicate. From the earliest mating of demons and humans, while I still walked this earth in my original form, we watched these half breeds. I walk out to face the battle with only a nod in Lorne's direction, because there is no way to make him understand, and time is short. I do not fight for humanity. I fight to insure the survival of these Sineyans, in the hope that one day they will overrun the human scourge, and take back this world for demons.
********

Spike

Fell Brethren cut into little bits, check. Baby returned to his mum, check. Oh, and torrential rain; bollocks. Should've taken the Viper, 'stead of leaving it by the apartment. I'm gonna ruin another duster runnin' around in the rain, fightin' demons with swords…When I reach the alley Angel's there, with Connor. Can't say I expected to see the prodigal about, but I'm glad Peaches kept his promise to Red. "Are we the only ones left?"

"Looks like…" His response is cut off by Illyria dropping to the ground between us, and a shout from down the alley. We turn to find Gunn and Merry running towards us, with Jezebel and two younger girls on their heels.

"How'd I know the fang boys were gonna make it back first?" Gunn is out of breath, but not much worse for wear. "Where's Wes?"

"Wesley and the Sineyan female plan to return here. They were both alive when I left." Illyria says through a curtain of wet hair. "I brought the red witch to the sanctuary; she is exhausted from magicks, and will be of no use for at least a day."

"Well, here's to hoping we're still alive when she wakes up." Yeah, I'm trying to be positive, because if I think about never seeing Buffy or the Bit again, I won't make it.

There's a dull roar from the South end of the alley, and suddenly demons of all shapes and sizes are coming our way. Bloody hell, that's a lot of demons. The blonde teenage Slayer who came in with Jezebel squeaks and presses back into the person behind her, which happens to be Angel. Connor draws a sword from I-have-no-idea-where, and steps towards the oncoming horde. As I go to follow him, Gunn says, "Okay, you take the 30,000 on the left…"

Merry giggles, and steps forward between Connor and I. As we brace ourselves and draw weapons, I can feel the group behind us spreading out. Angel steps up on my right side. I squint at him through the rain, wondering what's going on behind that massive forehead. "In terms of a plan…?" Can't let him off easy, after all.

He cuts me off. "We fight." Well, gosh, that was informative.

Merry snorts from my left. "Be a bit more vague, would you?"

The dull roar of the approaching demons has become thunderous, and a dragon flies out over the crowd, screeching at a pitch that makes me wish for human hearing, and taking a wide swipe at our front line with one wing.

Angel's face lights up with a maniacal fire that reminds me of Angelus. "Well, personally; I kind of wanna slay the dragon."
********

Angel

The alley floor is slick with rain and blood. I’m doing my best to focus on the fight, not get distracted by what’s going on around me; but I need to keep track of where everyone is, and what they’re doing. I’ve lost sight of Gunn and the little red-haired girl, and Connor chased something up to the roof of the parking garage across the street. Spike and a short brunette Slayer are fighting back to back off to my left, I can hear their voices rising and falling, though the wind swallows the words. Occasional arrows from an unidentified helper behind me make it possible to fight the horde one or two at a time; and someone, I suspect Wes, is shooting balls of fire into the mass of demons. Illyria took Connor’s place in the front line, and the bodies are stacking up quite impressively.

It’s not enough. The rain is hampering our vision and movements; the demons just keep on coming, they don’t seem to mind at all. The dragon is a smoldering pile about 20 feet ahead of me, and it’s keeping them from swarming us, but there are too many of them, and even with the extra help, not nearly enough of us. So help me, I can’t think of a way to turn the tide in our favor.

As I finally behead the demon I’ve been fighting, a tall black-haired woman appears at my side; the one who brought the two teenage Slayers in with her. “Fall back, get some rest, and some blood. I’ll hold the front line for a while.”

I open my mouth to protest, but I spot Connor climbing back down the side of the garage; too impatient to take the stairs, I guess; so I head off to cover his descent. Sure enough, a… Whatever that is…Has come around the crush in the alley to out-flank us. So much for taking a break; now we’ll be fighting on two fronts. If one of them figured it out, there’s bound to be more. I’m just surprised and thankful they haven’t surrounded the Hyperion yet. We’re half a block away, and if they moved into our path to retreat…Yeah, I need to stop thinking about that.

As I turn to face the demon gunning for Connor, I see Gunn and the blonde teenager backing up the woman who took my place with stakes and swords. Two other girls with crossbows cover Wes and a red-haired woman, as they alternate throwing fireballs into the mass of enemies from a fire escape. The stupid demon lunges at me with foot long claws, baring teeth like a tiger’s. It also has skin like metal plating, and it takes me several swipes with the sword to find a soft spot, then get past the claws enough times to do any serious injury.

By the time it’s good and dead, and I turn to check on Connor’s progress, I find him hanging off the side of the building by one arm and a precarious toe-hold, as he fights off a flying gnome with the other hand. His shirt is shredded across his back, and it’s hard to see in the dim light, but it looks like he’s bleeding, which means he’ll attract more of them. This one probably tried to take a bite out of him after he’d been injured in the rooftop fight. Damnit, I hate gnomes.
********

Apple

I ain’t never seen so many demons in one place outside my text books. The one I’m fighting is a Fyarl; it can only be killed using a weapon made of Silver. Which, evidently, this sword is not. I keep trying to reach for the knife in my belt, but it presses its attack every chance it gets, and damn, my arm is getting tired.

Just when I’m startin’ to panic a little, Watcher Woman comes around from behind me, and distracts him long enough so I can get the knife in his back. Go team! I flash her a big smile, and we turn back to the ginormous group of demons coming at us, to find that the closest thing to aim at is a big frickin’ troll. Oh, great. And here I am, all short and stuff.

Fortunately, someone else noticed the troll; a coil of chains land on the ground behind me with a clang that makes just about everyone in the alley jump. Laurie takes advantage of the injury to super-hearing, and runs through the alley willy-nilly, stakin’ everything not on our side that’s holding its ears. A couple of them get back up, but she sure ‘nough did her part in adding to the alley mud. She runs off back where I can’t see her, as Jezzie and I grab the chains, and that Gun guy covers us with a short sword and my silver knife (you know, just in case).

It don’t take long at all to get the troll flat on the ground, roarin’ and kickin’ somethin’ fierce trying to work the chains off it. Then of course, we’ve gotta get past the flailing arms, and get it killed before it gets back up. Between me and my Watcher, we’re doin’ alright…

And sure ‘nough I spoke too soon. Gun sorta bounces off the wall, and stumbles for a few steps, before he can shake it off an’ stand up right again. In the meantime I hacked the arm off, but the damn thing won’t die. At least we can get closer now…

Ouch. Guess the other arm reached across just fine. Great, I bet I got no skin left on that side of my face. Hopefully the rain’ll wash the dirt out. Gotta keep movin’.
********

Ron

Once we heard the first demon roar, there was no keeping Joy and Lise in the building; nothing would do but they go out and help. Lorne and I sent them off the roof with crossbows, and they leaped across the alley to a building closer to the action. I thought I had super strength, but I sure as hell could not have made that jump. Guess Mom was right; Slayer girls are stronger than Slayer boys.

Lorne offered to stay downstairs and keep an eye on Willow; after I saw where the fighting was centralized, I figured I’d just try to keep the path back here clear. So here I am, sitting in a dusty room on the fifth floor with my cell at the ready, hanging out the window with my sniper rifle, picking off any demon that gets close enough. Lorne wanted to know where I got the rifle, but I figured that was a story for another time.

I hear shrieking that sounds suspiciously like more of the flying gnomes I picked off earlier, but I don’t see any…Shit, there they are, coming in from the other direction. And there are two human looking guys, who I guess are ours. Wish I’d gotten to meet a few more people before this mess started.

The angle is bad, and it’s a longer shot than the central front…Damnit. Maybe if I climb out…The ledge is narrow, but the extra foot or so gives me a larger window on the scene playing out across the street; when the gnome turns to make another pass at the guy hanging off the building, I have a clear shot, and the gnome falls to the ground. The rapport of the gun sends me stumbling back; I wasn’t braced properly, and I just manage to catch myself on the next window frame over. And this, ladies and gentlemen, is one of many reasons why I gave up being a soldier; I kinda suck at it.
********

Connor

Whatever the fuck this thing is, it won’t let up enough for me to do more than block it’s claws. I can hear Angel down below me, just out of sight, shouting instructions; but between the rain and wind, and all the other noise, I can’t understand a damn thing he says. And with fighting off this little flying demon, I can’t even get enough breath to yell that I can’t hear. Between the lack of oxygen and the bleeding, I’m starting to feel woozy.

Just about when I start to see spots, I hear gunshots, and the demon thing drops right out of the sky. I start climbing down fast, because there’s another one coming, and I see a guy with a rifle out of the corner of my eye. Dude nearly fell off the building, but he gets it together. When I have a better foothold, I turn and slash out at the next flying thing, and behead it in one stroke. Both pieces go crashing to earth after its buddy. If only the first one had been that easy.

When I hit the ground, Angel’s fighting off two vampires. He’s doing a pretty good job on his own, so I rest a sec and get my wind back. When he’s done, he comes running over. “Connor, are you alright? I told you to go for the head, and keep it away from your back; they’re attracted to fresh blood…”

“Guess that explains where the second one came from.” I shrug him off. “I’m not hurt too bad, just scraped up. We should get back out there.”

“No, you should go inside and get bandaged; I was sent off to get a rest and a snack, I’ll go with you.”

I want to bitch at him, but he didn’t want me here in the first place, and he obviously needs the help; guess I can’t win every fight. In the lobby of the Hyperion, Lorne is helping a Slayer I haven’t seen yet load up with weapons. God, who decides girls that young should be warriors; she can’t be more than 14. I mean, I was fighting demons when I was that age, but, you know, I lived in a demon dimension. Comes with the territory.

“Hey.” Angel nods at the girl. “You were up on the fire escape with Wes.”

She smiles and nods. “And my Watcher, Miss Penny. I’m Elise. I saw him get scraped up.” She points at me. “Why don’t you take a shift up there with the crossbow, and I’ll go on the ground. It’ll give your back time to heal up.”

“Umm, yeah, sure. Thanks. I’m Connor, by the way.” And I hope like hell my ears aren’t turning red. The part of me that’s used to fighting, is really, really, not used to girls.

She smiles and heads out with her weapons, and Lorne and Angel sit me down and help me get my shirt off. By the time Lorne’s rinsed out the cuts from what I am told were flying gnome claws…And by the way, aren’t gnomes supposed to be little old men with beards who smoke pipes and live under mushrooms?...Anyway, by the time I’m cleaned up, a guy with glasses comes rushing down the stairs, carrying a bunch of bandages and stuff.

“Hey, let me take a look at those cuts. It looked like that thing got you pretty good.”

“This is Ron, he’s our Doc on call.” Lorne reports, stepping away to let the other guy get at me. “Ron, this is Angel, and your patient is Connor.”

“Pleasure.” He mutters, and I feel something cool move against my back. “That gnome got you pretty bad; can I stitch you up cold, or do you need a shot?”

“Go for it.” I grit my teeth, but the pain’s not that bad, and a few pricks won’t make it any worse. “Thanks for the help back there; that thing wouldn’t back up enough for me to get a good swing at it. Try not to come so close to falling five stories next time, though.”

He chuckles, and I feel pulling, so I guess we’re stitching now. “I was moving too fast, wasn’t braced for the kickback. Stupid mistake.”

“You have a gun?” Angel looks a little alarmed. I wonder, were guns invented when he was human? I can’t remember when that was, or when the gun was invented for that matter.

“You know how to shoot a rifle? I have an extra.”

Okay, I’m glad there’s a doctor around, since I’m getting stitches and all, but who the hell carries an extra rifle…You know what, I’m just grateful. And it’s not like other people would think that was too weird, compared to my swords and wooden stakes. “I can shoot a hunting rifle. My dad and I used to go to the range.”

Angel and Lorne both look worried. I can’t see the Doc’s face, but his response sounds better than theirs look. “It’s about the same; you’ll need to brace better, though.”

I chuckle, and the pulling stops, then starts again in another place. I’ve never had stitches without pain killers before. It’s not bad. Makes me wonder why people waste the drugs. I look up at Angel, and the frown on his face, and suddenly I think we need a change of subject. “Hey, Pops, weren’t you gonna get some blood while we’re here? Gotta keep the vamp strength up, so the Slayers can catch a break.”

I don’t know if it’s because I called him something other than his name, or just because I gave him something else to think about, but the old man perks up, and heads off to the kitchen. Or, where I assume the kitchen is, anyway. “Oh, thank the Powers; I thought for a second there he was heading into full-on brood mode.” Lorne gestures dramatically, and looks more pleased to see me than he has yet. “You’re a genius, young sir, that’s all there is too it.”

I smile, but don’t say anything, because I have no clue what to say. The pulling on my back stops and starts again. “Last one.” Doc reports.

“Umm, hey, Lorne, could you do me a favor?” Yeah, this is good; something else for him to think about, too. “I need a crossbow and bolts; could you get them together for me?”

Lorne rushes off, and by the time he’s back with the weapons, Angel’s back, and I’m all bandaged and ready to go. Doc grabs me the rifle, and gives me a quick refresher course in using it, with a big ol’ box of bullets, and I’m ready to roll. Angel and I head back outside, where the fighting sounds like it’s moved closer, or at least gotten more violent. He starts to head back in the direction we came from, where Elise is fighting off a demon at least twice her size. I need to let him go, but I also need to say something, just in case.

“Hey, Pops.” He turns to me with a questioning look, the rain plastering his hair down again as he stands there. “Don’t get any more dead, okay?”

Angel nods and smiles, and pounds off through the puddles towards the little Slayer who looks like she’s actually gonna kick that huge demon’s ass. Well, can’t let a little girl show me up, now can I? “Time to go to work.”
********

Gunn

Man, I am out of shape. And now is really not the time to be figuring that out. Merry and I wailed on the Senator and her vamp groupies; the whole thing went down faster than you could blink. We didn't even get real banged up. This fight, though, just keeps going. You knock one down, the magic folks get two with those fireballs; there are three to take their place.

I haven't seen Angel in what feels like hours, and Wes is up above me somewhere, doing the fireball thing. Illyria's fighting around a stack of corpses nearly as tall as her, still working the front line; Spike's up there, too, but he's a little worse for wear. The young redheaded Slayer I wasn't introduced to earlier is dodging around from place to place, dragging demon bodies off to the sides, using them like blockades, staking vamps and swiping at anything she can reach with her sword when one of us needs a distraction. I'm still backing up Apple and Jezebel, but the older girl is clearly fading, and I'm not doing too well myself.

Just when I start thinking about taking a step back, Merry leaves her place at Spike's side, and pushes Jezebel into me. "Go take a break. I've got it."

"What about Spike?" I yell over the noise. I gotta get me some earplugs before I come back out here. Merry ignores me, and I can tell the Slayer leaning against me wants to protest, but she's barely standing up, so I haul Jezebel back towards the Hyperion. Halfway there she tries to pull away, and I pick her up bodily, and don't put her down until we reach the lobby.

Inside, where it's not so damn loud, I can hear her talking, nearly screaming, except that she's hoarse. "What the fuck do you think you're doing; let me go, that's my daughter out there. I've gotta go back out there, please."

I drop her like a bad habit, because I know I'd be pissed if someone pulled me away from my kid who was fighting a big mess of demons. As soon as her feet touch the floor, she starts to crumple, and as I reach out to catch her, I notice that my left arm is covered in blood.

Well, shit.

Laurie

Who knew taking down a 100 foot tall giant was gonna be so simple? A few well placed arrows and fireballs, and the thing crashed backwards to the ground, taking the demons it landed on with it. Easy peasey.

Things got harder, after that. I've been running around, making all the dents I can in the demons, being a general distraction, but they just keep on coming. The bodies pile up around the front line, between Wes and Penny's magicks, and everyone else's weapons. I take a break from fighting every once in a while, to pull the corpses out of the way; not out of respect for the dead, but because the enemy's lack of respect is really nauseating. If I think too hard about the way they're just walking over the giant’s body to get to us, I'm gonna freak.

I saw Charles Gunn haul Mom inside a little while ago; I'd worry, except I know how she gets. She'd fight until she keeled over in a dead faint. Merry must have told him to force her to catch a rest.

The demons seem to be hanging back for now, rather than breaking through the front line like they have been. Looks like they're getting organized. They must be, because suddenly I'm face to face with a Polgara demon who looks like he wants me dead. Not that that's such a shock. We fight, my short swords against his claws, and I can't seem to get the advantage. When it tries to shoot me with its poisoned darts, I use the sword hilts to deflect them, and manage to lop off one of the hands above where the darts lodge. One down…

The fight continues for almost 10 minutes, before I finally get a clear shot and sever the demon's neck. I hate the noise a head makes when it hits the ground. Why can't they all dust, like vampires?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Spike

Sure enough, the damn bloody stupid demons have been taking chunks outta my new duster all night; good thing I have more, or I'd be hella pissed. Man, I need to stop hanging out with so many Americans.

The lizard-like demon I'm fighting keeps trying to wrap it's tail around my feet, since its fangs are about the first thing I've come up against tonight that won't go through the leather. Fuckin' annoying, it is, having to play jump the tail while I'm trying to kill it. My aim's goin' all to hell, what with the jumping and dodging, and not being able to keep my balance. This shouldn't be taking so long, I'm startin' to worry about what's gettin' past me.

'Twas easier with Merry watchin' my back; the girl's damn good at distracting things. Either that, or I'm getting' tired. Possibly it's a little a both. But, as soon as she saw that sword hit Jezebel, she was fightin' her way over there to make the girl go get patched up. Shoulda figured Jezzie for one that wouldn't stop once she was injured; Faith and Buffy are the same bloody way.

Finally I catch a lucky break; the demon lunges at me, swinging its tail at the same time, and overbalances; I slice it across the neck as it stumbles, and it goes toppling to the ground. Right then. Hate to leave the birds and Gunn on their own, but I’ve gotta get some blood in me, or I’ll be a sitting duck.

Turning to Illyria, I shout a warning as I fall back. “Hey, Blue; gonna go eat, hold the line for a bit?” Don’t know why I’m asking, except that she and I have come to something like an understanding of late; I respect her, she doesn’t pound me into the ground and refer to me as her ‘pet’.

Over the rain and the howling demons, Illyria calls back, “You need to feed. Do not concern yourself with the Sineyan females, I will keep them alive.”

Well, that’s about the best thing I’ve heard all night, so I weave my way through the demon corpses and head back to the Hyperion. Just past the chain link fence, Angel and a little girl Slayer are fighting off a smaller group of demons who came through the space between two buildings; probably trying to get us from behind. I jump into the fight, and manage to kill a few before the other two have all the fun, and there’s a break in the assault.

“I left Illyria in charge of the front line.” I tell Angel. If he’s gonna be the general, he needs to know what’s going on. Poof. “I’m gonna go catch some kip, some blood.”

“Angel, I need to get back on the other side of the fence. Now.” The girl pipes up, which makes me notice her.

When I focus on her, something strange happens. I almost get a sense of Dru; a feeling that reminds me of her. “You a seer?” I ask, almost without thinking. It’s the only explanation I can come up with for why this girl feels like Dru while the one that looks like her doesn’t.

She smiles wider than I’ve seen anyone smile in a long time. “Yup. I’m Elise.”

“Spike.” I wink at her. Cute little baggage. “You’re doin’ good, kid. Keep your head on, you’ll be fine.” Which is likely a damn foolish comment, if she knows how the whole thing’s gonna play out.

I nod at her and Angel, and head towards the Hyperion. I’ve never been inside, and I’m floored by the scale of the place. Space like this, we coulda fit the whole Sunnydale crew, including all the mini-Slayers, then and now, and no one would have to share a bathroom. There isn’t anyone about, but the smell of blood, both animal and Slayer, is heavy in the air. I follow the scent of animal blood to the kitchen, get myself a cuppa, then head up to check on the injured Slayer.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Penny

I don’t remember the last time I was this tired. Magicks can take a lot out of you physically; after Willow borrowed my power earlier I felt like I was high, but the endorphins have faded into exhaustion. It’s a damn good thing there’s a railing to hold me up, because spots are forming behind my eyes. When the hell are they gonna stop charging? Better yet, when is the sun coming up? At least then the vampires will be out of the equation. Ours will be, too; but I think we could make it without them for a few hours. I hope.

I take a minute, and sit down on the stairs to look at my watch. What the Hell; it’s 7:00 in the morning! The sun should be rising, already. Just in case I missed it, seeing as I’ve been concentrating so hard on the magicks, I take a look up at the sky. Nope; still no sun. The clouds would cover sunlight to some extent, but I’ve never seen rain clouds make the day as dark as night.

Suddenly, I’m feeling a whole lot worse about this.

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Lorne

The beauteous Jezebel is awake again, and Doctor Ron managed to stop the bleeding and stitch her up, but she’s in no condition to be out in that horrific rain storm fighting demons. Of course, you try telling her that.

“My daughta’s out there; for fuck’s sake, wudja please just let me go? I sweah, I’m fine.” She’s fit to spit, her smooth cultured accent giving way to one that reveals her birthplace. Doc’s not having it, though, that’s for sure.

“Jezebel; you need to worry less about what’s going on out there, and more about just relaxing for a minute, and letting that gash heal.” Poor Ronald looks like he’s gonna start screaming, so I step in.

“Listen, sweet cheeks; you’re not gonna do anyone any good with your guts hanging out. Just relax, lay back, and worry about the things you can control. For example, not giving Doctor Ron here any reason to pull out what little hair he has left.” That gets me a little smile, but no laugh. Geez, tough room. Then again, if I had all those stitches in my side, I wouldn’t be laughing, either.

She does lay back on the bed, finally, and Ron goes to get her a pain killer, although I don’t know how he thinks he’s going to get it into her. That man has some kind of narcotics connections; he managed to amass a frightening amount of pills and liquids in the short time he had this afternoon.

While I stand between the world’s worst patient and the door, hoping she doesn’t make a break for it, Spike wanders in with a big mug of blood, his duster torn and bloody in more than a couple of places, still dripping rain water. No point in saying anything, the carpet’s on its last legs.

“So, Mr. Greenjeans, how’s tricks?” He arches an eyebrow at me and takes a swig of blood.

I think about it for a minute before I respond. I’ve lost yet another paying gig because of Angel, I’m surrounded by girls I barely know who are fighting like Valkeries to protect me and the rest of the world, Fred’s dead, Willow tree is down for the count, and at some point earlier tonight my memories re-scrambled themselves so that big chunks of the last two years are different. How am I, really?

“Tired, although I’ll bet you could give me a run for my money in that department, am I right?” I give him the best cocky smile I can muster. No sense bringing down the mood; I’m always willing to see the brighter side.

Spikey just kind of nods, his mouth full of blood again, and wanders farther into the room to get a better look at Jezzie. “What about you, puss? Your insides back where they belong, now?”

She shakes her head at him, like he’s the world’s biggest idiot. “Of course I’m fuckin’ fine, don’t know why yer all so riled up, it was just a flesh wound, and…”

Spike chokes on his blood, and I get a disturbing mental picture of it squirting out his nose when he laughs. Jezebel rolls her eyes. "Oh, gosh Mr. Vampire, aren't you clever; you're British and you watch Monty Python, who'd have ever guessed?" Heck, is she sarcastic, or what? Reminds me of our little Cordy.

He calms almost instantly as she takes her shot at him, and glares fiercely. "Well, I see your mouth is in working order, though your brain seems a bit on the dodgy side. I'm gonna go, you obviously need a bit o' kip."

He turns to make his melodramatic exit with a flare of his battered coat, and Jezebel stops him with a cry of "William!", attempting to struggle out of the bed. We both rush over to push her back down, though Mr. Super-Speed beats me there.

"Awright, belt-up." Spike mutters, easing her back against the pillows.

"William, you gotta make them let me out, my baby girl is down there! I can't let her fight without me, please, you just gotta talk some sense into these guys." Her big brown eyes are wide and pleading, and I can tell he's caved before she's even stopped talking.

"Stop it, you dozy chit. Bin the hysterics now, and be a good Slayer." Spike pats her shoulder. "See here, then. You just relax, and I'll go check on your bit, yeah?"

She looks at him like that's the worst idea she's heard in days, but then Ron comes back with a big ol' needle full of whatever, and she must know when she's been beat, because Jezzie finally relaxes back into the mattress and stops fighting. "Right. You go look after her for me, wudja? Make sure Laurie comes back to me alive. I'll just wait here for a sec."

As soon as the drugs take effect, she's down for the count, and Spike is trying to sneak back outside. Ron must not have figured out he's a vamp, because the Doc bullies His Snarky-ness into getting stitched up. And to my surprise, Spike lets him sew shut a few of the bigger cuts, before he takes off out into the rain.

Ronald and I are left standing in the 'hospital' room for a few minutes, Willow and Jezebel sleeping peacefully in the beds behind us. When I shake myself out of my thoughts enough to participate in a real conversation, I turn towards Ron, who is looking down at his hands and frowning.

"What's up, Doc?" Okay, so it loses points for originality, but gets high marks for comfort and familiarity, which we all need right about now.

Ron looks up, blinking like he's never seen me before. "That was a vampire." He looks angry with himself, but I don't know why he would be.

"Yeah, that was one of our fearsome twosome. Spike, or William, but no one actually calls him that." Ron blinks at me again, like he has no clue what I'm talking about. Then again, perhaps he doesn't. "Hey, Doc, how's about you have a seat, and I'll tell you a little story about how we all ended up here?" If nothing else, telling stories will kill some time until the next person gets injured.

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Angel

The sun hasn't come up yet. That would worry me, except that I'm obviously needed out here, and I'm glad I don't have to go hide out while the Slayers fight. Elise stuck close to me while I fought my way back towards the front line, then disappeared for a while, only to reappear at my back just in time to stop a demon from taking my head off. She's not Buffy or Faith by a long shot, but she's a good little fighter.

I don't know where Spike or that tall black-haired girl went, but Gunn's taken a spot in the second line, while the front is covered mainly by Illyria and two short little Slayers. I wish I knew the girls' names, it would make life easier. The Slayers move to cover one another when Elise and I come up even with them, and then it's just fighting, trying to hold the line against a tide of demons that never seems to thin out or get tired.

I'm fighting a Thessulak when Spike reappears, looking very much worse for wear. Good thing he has ten of those coats, it looks like another one will be destroyed by the end of tonight. Assuming tonight ends. Who knows what the actual time is, but it's gotta be early morning by now.

The demon won't go down easy, and I have to keep circling, trying to get the advantage by moving more quickly than it can. I've lost a big chunk of skin from my left arm before I get the upper hand. Good thing it's not my sword arm. Before I can check how bad the injury is, Elise hurls a demon towards me, and I have just seconds to duck out of the way so it doesn't land on me.

"What are you waiting for, kill it!" She yells, already turning to face another opponent. I lop off its head and get over there to back her up, and nearly don't make it. The demon she's fighting now has four arms, and as she holds two of them off, a third is moving toward her belly with a huge knife.

I dive for the arm, getting a deep cut on my jaw for my trouble, but I pull the knife arm off the demon before it can gut the littlest Slayer. As the demon stumbles back, Elise goes in for the kill, and I haul myself back to my feet. These clothes are going in the incinerator after this; I don't want to think about what I just landed in a puddle of.

She smiles at me once the demon hits the ground. "Thanks!"

I smile back, and I want to say something about what a great job she's doing, but before I can catch enough breath to talk, we get charged again, and then there's just the fighting.

It's almost Zen; focusing on form, on throwing your senses out to feel where the threats are coming from, responding effortlessly to a threat. I lose any concept of the passage of time, everything in me is concentrated on fighting. One opponent after another goes down under our swords and axes. Those magickal fireballs from the fire escape above have slowed down, but demons are still being taken out at a steady rate by arrows, thinning the herd for us.

I can feel the Slayers, and Spike and Illyria around me, as well as the group on the fire escape, but I can't spare the focus to check on them, now. I'm in a quiet place, just me and my sword, and whoever I'm cutting to pieces at the moment.

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Wesley

It seems like it's been hours since Penny discovered that the sun did not rise, and nearly a year since Connor appeared on the fire escape with us. That's probably the fatigue talking, but by now I'm past tired, past numb. I can't stop working, can't stop fighting; my movements have become mechanical, reflexive. It's a better thing for all of us that I'm up here, because if I was down there wielding an axe I'd be dead by now, and we're at far too great a disadvantage already.

Our doctor stuck his head out of the Hyperion again a little while ago, and shot several demons to death with some sort of rifle. Spike reappeared after a sizeable absence, I saw him running to help Gunn with a demon, then I lost sight of him again. Jezebel has still not come back, which frightens me dreadfully.

Still, I can't respond to any of these developments; casting the fireball spells over and over is sapping my strength. I have no energy to waste in processing the actions of others, or any information other than the rote casting. I fear losing my concentration, and giving the enemy an advantage. So I continue what I am doing, and the rest of the world passes me by in a whirl of rainwater and a bone-rattling din of noises.

Penny tries to stop me several times, but I can't focus enough attention on her to listen. I'm having a hard enough time focusing on what I'm doing now; if I divide my attention, I can't help but feel that there will be dire consequences.

This truly can't go on much longer. It feels like we've been fighting for days, and even though I am not down in the alley fighting hand to hand, I have expended a large amount of energy in the casting of spells. Not to mention the energy I lent to Willow in helping to dispose of Vail and undo his nefarious works. No, this can't go on much longer, or we'll be beaten…

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Penny

Wes finally did it. Jezzie and I used to say that if we left him alone for too long he wouldn't stop studying; he'd just keep working until he collapsed. Tonight he actually did. In the middle of flinging a fireball at an ogre, he simply went limp, and dropped to the metal grate. Connor had to drag him inside the building so he wouldn't fall through the ladder-hole, or trip us accidentally.

Elise appeared not long after, and sent Connor and Joyce down into the thick of the fight, with orders to send up Gunn. I'd argue, but I keep having to take breaks so I don't end up like Wes; I don't really have the energy to expend on second guessing the girl who knows the future. Also, she knows the bolt-of-fire spell.

It takes Gunn so long to climb the ladder that I'm tempted to go help him up; then another wave of dizziness stops me from climbing down to meet him. When he makes it up to us he's pretty beat up, and he looks exhausted, but firing a crossbow isn't that taxing, it should give him plenty of time to rest.

The rain has let up in the last hour or so, which is nice because it keeps us from sliding across the metal slat floor of the fire escape. Also makes the crossbow bolts easier to aim, and it'll probably make the fire easier to throw. Still, as I prepare to create another magickal flame, I wish mentally for some good old fashioned natural flame throwers, possibly a grenade or two.

Ron pops back out a window across the street, and sends a few strategic bullets into the crowd of demons. He's shooting closer to the hotel, and I feel a thread of fear that the building will be compromised, and there'll be nowhere for us to run if we need to fall back. Rather than helping Elise work on the charging horde, I turn and drag myself around to the other side of the ladder, and help with the demons who are trying to circle around from the back. Unfortunately, my aim isn't what it was a few hours ago, and I almost set Connor on fire as he fights an ugly demon I can't identify. Whoops.

I take a deep breath and start to form another fireball, trying not to shake with exhaustion, but Gunn comes up from behind and stops me. "You're lookin' wasted there, girl. Go work on the big crowd, I'll take this end. That way if you miss you're still hittin' bad guys."

I blush, angry that he noticed how tired I am, but I do what he says. No point arguing, I am really…

Ooh, where am I? I open my eyes slowly, and check my surroundings. It's dusty, and I'm soaking wet, and my head feels like I've been on a three day bender. Oh, crap; I pulled a Wes. I sit up carefully, leaning against the wall for support, and when I'm stable, I look at my watch. 11:00. In the morning, or at night? I turn to the window, where I can hear people on the fire escape, but I can't tell who they are. It's still dark, but it was dark when I went down, too, and that was full morning. I look around the room, and I'm the only one here, so I suppose Wes is awake now.

Damnit, I'm so never gonna live this down.

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Merry

I came inside and took a quick nap, because after Wes and Penny both dropped on their feet, I was so not taking a chance I would, too. Good thing I saw Penny fall and went up to check on them; Gunn was a little too tapped out to get her inside, and Elise was so focused on magicks that she didn't even notice. I left Apple with Angel; I couldn't get her to come inside, even though I'm pretty sure she's been awake about a day longer than I have. Ahh, teenagers, so much energy…

I'm pretty sure it's still Friday, although we must be rapidly approaching Saturday, now. What I wouldn't give for a 24-hour clock. The blasted sun hasn't come up since it went down Thursday, and the rain slowed a few times, but hasn't really stopped. Having dry clothes on feels like heaven, and the last thing I want to do is go back out there, even with a raincoat (which I wish I'd remembered the first time). Not like that's gonna stop me; the last thing you want to do is often what must be done first. Like, for example, going back out into the rain to fight more demons. Joy.

So, like a good little defender of humanity, I pull my hair back, grab my coat, and go check on the patients before I leave for the battle field. Not stalling; consider it an inventory of who's on my side.

Jezebel is gone, and Gunn is in her place, bandages covering his torso and wrapped around his head. Laurie is sitting in a chair while Ron stitches her stomach; luckily I can't see too much of the wound. Willow is still asleep. I was half-hoping she'd be awake before me, but no love. Guess I can't have everything, but seriously, the Powers sent us this super-witch, and all she does is sleep? There's something seriously wrong with this picture.

I sigh. Crap. I knew, somehow, when I woke up that she was still out, but seeing it makes it real. We need her to wake up; the demons haven't stopped coming, and this has gone on too long. We're all going to get sloppy, and weak, and then dead. Which is very not good.

I sink onto the foot of Willow's bed, because I need another minute before I go back out there. I need to find a way to keep doing this, to fight when I feel like running for the first time ever. I reach out and grab Willow's hand, hoping I can draw a bit of comfort from her…And she twitches. Just a little.

My eyes shoot around the room, but no one else is looking our way. I edge closer to her, my heart suddenly pounding. "Willow? Wake up, kiddo, it's time to end this. Come on, sweet thing, wake up and stop those demons, then you can sleep for a week if you want."

I almost start crying when her eyes open and focus on me. Hot damn, the cavalry has arrived. I start laughing to keep the tears down, and rush off to get her a glass of water. She's been asleep for more than 24 hours, she's probably thirsty. When I get back Ron is taking her pulse, and Laurie is resting on her side on Willow's bed, ready to take over the spot once the witch is gone.

"How are you feeling?" I ask.

"A little like Sleeping Beauty, honestly." Willow's voice is raspy, but she seems with it, and there's a faint smile on her face. "How long was I out?"

"A little more than a day." Ron answers. "It's 10:45 Friday night. From what I understand you collapsed around 7:30 last night."

Willow nods and tries to sit up, and we each grab an arm to help her. Once she's settled, I hand her the water, and she sips it carefully. For a moment we're all quiet; Laurie has somehow drifted off to sleep next to Willow, Gunn hasn't so much as moved a finger since I've been here, and Ron just observes his patient. Then the Doc excuses himself to get Willow something to eat. So it's just us sitting there. When she's finished half the glass of water, Willow hands it back to me and closes her eyes. "How bad is it?"

I wonder what to tell her for a minute. How much tactical info, how much injury report? I have no idea what to say, and I'm still a bit sleepy, so before I've realized it the words are spilling out of my mouth. Elise's near brush with death, Connor hanging from the parking garage, Spike's ruined duster, Penny fainting mid-fireball, Ron and his rifle…And the demons that never stop coming. My voice is a bit horse when I'm finished, and Willow lends me her water, watching my face carefully as I drink.

"I know this seems like the end of the world…" Willow says quietly. "And maybe it is, you never can tell with these things. But, you can't freak out. No freaking, wigging, barmy-ness, or any other panic-type stuff. Once you lose focus, that's when the other side sneaks in and messes up your doilies."

"Doilies?" She's so cute when she's odd.

Willow shakes her head. "Ask Spike about it. Tomorrow. In the meantime…" She takes a deep breath, and stretches carefully. "Could you maybe help me to the WC?"

I chuckle, because it's such a normal thing to say, and the British-ism sounds so wrong in her mouth. When I get her back to bed, Ron's there with some soup, an energy bar, and milk and juice. I want to sit with her while she eats, but Willow shoos me off, telling me to go outside, and she'll join me when she can.

As I exit the back door of the Hyperion, still settling my weapons bag over my shoulder, I spot Apple coming towards me at a slow lope. Good, she needs to rest before she gets herself killed. I draw my sword and head over to let her know Willow is awake now, when two things happen at once. Apple lurches like a dipso, and a demon comes out of the narrow space between the parking garage and the empty office building, cutting directly into Apple's path, and raising a gigantic axe.

There's no way to get there in time, but I try anyway, running faster than I knew I could. Apple raises her sword to block the blow, but she's just too tired and weak, and her deflection does next to nothing. The axe falls, severing her arm at the shoulder. Which is about when I get there, and cut the demon's head off. Just a few seconds too late.

Apple's face is so white it's almost blue, and she's holding her arm with the other. Hopefully that means it's not entirely separated. I carry her inside as quickly as possible, which is no mean feat since she's 6 inches taller than me. I'm calling for help before I'm even properly inside, and I find Lorne first, passing Apple off to him as gently as I can. I swear the poor guy pales when he sees her wound; I'm just trying not to look at it.

I can't stay inside with her, as much as I want to. Seeing Apple injured reminded me that I'm supposed to have hauled my ass back out there already, so the other girls can rest. Stupid, selfish me. Okay, not entirely my fault; I tried to get her inside hours ago. I feel the guilt, though, in a big way.

Out back again, I grab my sword and Apple's from the ground near the dead demon, and head back toward the front line. Time to kill things.

Fade Away Again, Chapter 14

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Connor

Joy's not much of a fighter, but she's trying. Gotta give her a nod for effort. And for looking hotter than anyone has a right to after they've been out in the rain overnight, but that's really beside the point.

As the better fighters get tired, and little injuries start to add up, more demons have snuck past the front line. We've been working too hard covering everyone's backs to fight our way back to the front, so I can't even plug the gaps, really. Joy can't be in the front line; she'd get dropped in a second, and I'm supposed to be her partner, so I have to stay back. Which is pissing me off. I'm one of the strong ones; I should be out there in the front causing some serious damage. Backstage is no place for me.

Even as I'm thinking that, a big grey thing comes out of nowhere; would've sliced Gunn in half if I wasn't there to jump in the way and kick its ass. So, I guess there is a method to me being here after all. When Gunn’s safe back up on his feet again, I turn to help Joy with the demon she can’t seem to kill, and out of the corner of my eye I catch Spike taking a knife to the jaw. That’s gonna leave a mark…Yup, when he turns to help one of the Slayers fighting near him, the cut is spurting blood down his neck, and I’m pretty sure I see bone through it.

Not life threatening by any stretch; and vampires can’t get infections, but it’s still freaky. I suddenly want to check on how my pops is doing, but I can’t take my attention away from Joy and Gunn for very long. Between the three of us we’re holding our own, killing things - but it’s taking all three of us.

I don’t know why Gunn’s back down on the ground; I thought he was banished to the fire escape until his side started healing. Guess he likes the hands-on approach. Or, we ran out of crossbow bolts. That’s probably more likely. I’m not ashamed to say I was happy for my time out; he’d probably be up there if he could do any good. Joyce would be better off back on the fire escape. I still can’t figure out why the little one kicked her off.

My shoulders are pulling against the bandages, and I think fleetingly that I’m gonna need to be stitched up again before this is over. Then more of those flying gnome things show up, and Gunn’s axe swings into the air. Damn, he’s got serious aim with that thing.

The rain’s sped up again in the last few minutes, and suddenly the temperature drops…Like, plummets. It’s spring in southern California and my teeth are fuckin’ chattering. What the hell’s going on? They can’t kill us with demons, so they’re doing it with flu? Joyce lurches to the side, ducking behind me, and before I can see what’s coming she jumps back out from behind me, right over my head, and throws the whole weight of her body into the demon. She’s holding a sword in front of her with both hands, and as gravity pulls her down, she guts the thing wide open. When her feet hit the ground, she lurches back up with the sword and lops off the head. Graceless, yet effective. I think I like her.
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Angel

Zen is all well and good, but even vampires get tired of killing things after a while. Eventually my concentration is broken by the roar of another dragon, and I shift my stance to look for it. Circling for now, smaller than the last one. It can wait.

I don’t remember how long ago it was that I last went in for some blood, but I’m flagging again. Unfortunately, the Slayers need more food and rest than Spike and I, so they get it first. The younger blonde just took off, and the short brunette still isn’t back yet, so I can’t rest.

When the temperature drops, I can feel it but it doesn’t bother me. Lower body temp in the first place means less sensitivity to cold, lucky for us vamps. The Slayers are feeling it, though. Pretty much instantly, their response times slow. I wouldn’t notice, except that the girl closest to me was fine a minute ago, and now she’s struggling to keep pace.

I'm having trouble keeping track of things, processing details. That should bother me, but right now I can't focus too much on myself, unless I want to end up mud. No way I'd stay dust in this rain. I finally spot Connor and Gunn; holding their own, backing up each other and one of the Slayers. They're wet and bloody and nowhere near as strong as I know they can be, but they're still upright, still fighting. It's more than I could have hoped when we started this.

Next thing I know, Gunn gets swiped across the chest by something nasty, and Connor covers them while the Slayer supports him towards the Hyperion. Every instinct screams to run after them; to push the girl away and carry him inside on my own; but I force myself to stay where I am and fight the battle I'm meant to.

Connor gets swarmed in the absence of the other two, and Elise moves towards him as she fights, steering the demons as she cuts them down. I try to help her help Con, but the enemy is closing in around us; suddenly the alley is packed tight with demons.

I swing my sword around as quick as I can, opening up more space around me so I can at least turn and see how they're doing. Which turns out to be a very good thing, since Elise and Connor are just far enough apart that they're both swarmed and can't help one another. Time slips away as we all throw ourselves into the fight, and the corpses pile up around us. Times was, this would have been a party to me. Now it's all about protecting these kids, my team, and the world.

I'm punching and kicking and cutting, pushing myself to move faster than ever, working my way slowly towards the kids, using all the momentum I can get to push myself forward, but not reaching either of them. The blonde Slayer who carried Gunn away a lifetime ago returns to back Connor up, and if she's not the most skilled fighter, she's doing well enough to keep herself alive and take some of the weight off him. I'm still trying to fight towards Elise without much success. If the demons have thinned out in the last few minutes, there are still a wall of them between here and there.

I kill a brown scaly thing that manages to take a chunk out of my calf before it dies, and as I look up, the unthinkable happens before my eyes. Connor gets pushed back by the demon he's fighting, straight into one behind him, almost knocking the blond on her ass as he stumbles. He can't recover quickly enough, and then he's losing as both of them press the advantage. Elise dodges under a demon's arm, aiming for a blow to the torso, when another punches her in the back, sending her to the ground with a scream of pain, and then there are three of them standing over her…

I don't think, I rush for Elise. Connor's got backup, so there's hope for him. I've been fighting, one way or another, more than long enough to know what happens when you lose their footing in battle. You die. I launch myself at the girl, knocking one of the demons to the side and landing atop the Slayer in just enough time to block the axe-like weapon bearing down on her with my body.

There's a sickening squelch and a searing pain accompanied by a sandy, grinding sensation that sets my teeth on edge; and I try to ignore the pain and roll away, raising my sword again…Except, my right arm doesn't seem to be holding any weight. Then, everything goes black.

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Lorne

We've been running around here like loonies since they brought Apple inside. The sight of her injuries prompted everyone who could get up and out to do so. It gives Doc and me more room to do our thing; but it's also unfortunate for our fighters, because some of them still belong here. Willow sticks around to help long after she should have left; makes sure we've got things straight, and she even uses some little spells to augment our primitive medical facilities. Luckily, the witch seems to be back up and running. And not a moment too soon, I fear.

Teen Slayer's bone is pushed back together with a pin, the veins are re-attached, and we're working our way through stitching everything else back together with a combination of thread and magicks.

Then, Joy and Elise drag Angel in.

At first I can't process what's happened. Angel's right arm is nearly separated from his torso, but rather than a clean cut through the bone like Apple's, whatever did the severing somehow wedged into the joint and popped it apart. We're out of beds, Gunn still dead to the world from sedatives, so the girls lay Angelcakes on the floor, and run off in search of something else to put him on. It isn't until they're man-handling…Or, should I say Slayer-handling…Another bed into the room that I realize Elise is sobbing.

Joy's trying to reassure her, but I have a nasty suspicion that platitudes aren't going to help here. Unfortunately, we can't send her back out until she's calmed down, so it's up to Uncle Lorne to reassure the trembling warrior.

Once the bed is squished into the room, and Angel moved onto it; Joy takes off, and I force Lise to sit next to me so we can talk while I assist the Doc, allowing Willow to do what she can for Apple on her own. "This is all my fault." She whimpers, waving a shaking hand at Angel. I'm about to try sweet-talking her into giving up more info, when she starts speaking. "I mean, I knew he was gonna get hurt saving me, that he would try to sacrifice himself for me; but then he just…Th-Threw himself under an axe to protect me, and the blood…The blood just went everywhere, and I s-saw the axe hit his shoulder, and then it kinda got lo-lodged there, and the demon twisted the axe trying to get it loose, and there was more blood, and this horrible ri-ripping sound…And it got the axe loose, and it was gonna swing again, but Joy killed it, but then I was stuck under Angel, and he blacked out, and it took all…All three of us to move him, and then there…There were too many demons; we had to carry him, then stop and clear a path, then move him again; it took almost an hour to get inside, and he's lost so much blood…An-And it's all my fault…"

She's weeping openly, now; too overcome with tears to speak. I have no idea what to say. Poor kid, it's hard knowing what's gonna happen. I always knew Angel's pride would be his downfall if he didn't watch himself. He's blown back and forth across the line between Champion and arrogant prick so many times the last few years, it was touch and go which side he'd come out on. Luckily for us, he seems to have fallen on the side of justice. Still, it breaks my heart to know that he's come so close to losing everything.

I give up on helping the Doc for a few minutes, and hold the sobbing Slayer, using my best crooning and advice combination to calm her down. When Elise begins to calm, I drag her away from the injured and into the restroom to wash her up and get her some drinking water. It takes a few minutes, but she eventually stops crying and panting and finishes her water, and I know it's time to get her back out there. Angelkins may be a vampire, and likely to heal the injury on his own, but neither the Doc nor I will allow him to heal an injury this serious without a little medical attention, at least.

Now, how do I get her out of the medical room without having her freak out all over again if she sees her vampire protector? I evaluate her slouch and the pinched look of anxiety in her eyes, and I'm just about to launch into one of my famous pep talks, when it's like a switch is flicked. Suddenly, the sensitive and cheerful 14 year old I've been dealing with all day is gone, and in her place is a Slayer.

"I'd better get back out there." Elise says quietly, with a firm strength I haven't yet heard in her voice. "They'll need me to help with the fighting. I have people to protect, and I'll have to help bring Sp…" She winces and looks up at me. "Neither of them will be a vampire for much longer. They're both going to be alive again, and badly injured on top of adjusting to that. It'll get worse for all of us before it gets better." She stops and takes a deep breath. "But, it will get better. No one is going to die in this battle. Just…Be careful with Angel, okay? Don't rely on vampire healing to fix everything, he might lose his arm that way."

With those disturbing last words, little Elise stands up, steels herself, and throws open the door; marching through the room and out into the hallway as quickly as she can. As she disappears, headed for the exit, I thank whoever sent her here today. And I hope that she's right, and makes it back inside so I can talk to her some more. If anyone in this dimension could understand how it's been for me, always knowing the mistakes good people are about to make and being unable to stop them, I think it would be her.

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Willow

If anyone had told me yesterday that I'd end up doing psychic surgery on Angel, I'd probably have laughed at them. But, that was before his arm was nearly popped off like a cork; before we heard from a seer that Angel and Spike were about to be brought back to life. Will they be human? Will they remember anything about being vampires? The questions flutter through my brain, all willy-nilly, but I try hard not to let them distract me. There just isn't enough technology, or (excuse me for saying so) a good enough surgeon here to do this the old fashioned way. And if we're expecting more wounded, we need to get Angel on the way to healing fast.

Of course, what would really be helpful was if I could get out there and kill a bunch of demons with magic. But, I'm the only one here who can do healing spells. Or, maybe Wesley and Penny could, but they've been expending all sorts of magical energy for the last two days, neither of them is likely to have the strength left. And maybe Elise could, I'm not entirely sure. But then, if I need a Slayer type battery she's probably the best candidate, and…

"Willow, are you concentrating?" Lorne asks. "Far be it from me to tell you how to do your magicks, but Angel-cakes is lookin' a little rough around the edges, and nothing seems to be healing itself inside that wound."

"Sorry, sorry." I can feel myself flush, and curse internally. "Yeah, I was just thinking about everything I need to do after this, and my train of thought kinda slipped off the tracks."

"Well, hurry up and do everything you need to do and let me at him, so we can both get on with our lives." Ron mutters. Sheesh, he's a touchy one. I don't know what I ever did to him, other than sleep in one of his 'patient' beds while no one else was using it and then help him heal the poor little blonde Slayer, but he doesn't seem to like me too much.

Working as quickly as I can to enhance Angel's healing, I concentrate as veins and muscles re-align themselves. Then I work on easing them back together, closing the gap between the parts of his shoulder.

When I've done as much as I feel comfortable doing, I step back out of the way and let the doctor step in and finish. As he brushes past me, his arm and mine meet for a second, and I get an uncomfortable shock of energy from the touch. It shocks me so badly, I'm frozen there next to Angel's bedside for a moment, gaping at the back of a head covered in thinning black hair. I know what that energy means, and how strong it can be when opened up to magicks. I've never felt it from a guy before, not even Oz, and it confuses me. I wish I had time to reflect and meditate on it; to sit Ron down and have a conversation with him…But then I draw myself back together and get ready to go. They need me outside to stop the flood of demons; I can worry about other things later. Still, as I leave the room I send a quick blessing back onto everyone inside, hoping I'll get that chance to talk later.

Some nice person has dumped a bag of casting supplies at the bottom of the staircase leading from our rooms into the lobby of the Hyperion. Not bothering to worry more than a little about whom they might belong to, I grab the bag and a knife to defend myself with and run out into the rain. The very cold rain, as it turns out. Damn, wish I'd brought a jacket with me. Maybe there's one inside I can borrow? I'm about to duck back inside the building and search, when a battered-looking demon runs out of the rain heading right for me. I assume one of our people fighting is hot on his…Its?...Heels, so rather than casting a spell on it I cast one on the knife, to help me strike a killing blow. Luckily, despite my frantic casting the spell works, and I send a quick apology to the Goddess for my inattention to her gifts as the big brown thing falls to the ground. I have no idea what that thing is, but it sure is ugly.

Which is about the time I realize no one was following it. I take a quick look around and don't see anyone, so I slip into a trance state and ask the Goddess' protection for the Hyperion. Once the building is protected from hostile intent, I step away from the back porch, hurrying towards the harshest battle sounds I've ever heard. The sheer loudness of it all overwhelms me, and I wonder if this is like what Buffy and Faith came up against in the Hellmouth. Neither of them is eager to discuss it with me, and I missed that part. Not like Faith and I have ever talked a lot, but we've gotten better lately about discussing work-related things; Buffy and I have been easing back into talking again, but with the Spike-dying factor involved she didn't much want to revisit the final battle of Sunnydale. Maybe now that he's not dead, she'll be more willing…

While my brain wanders all over the place, I've been steadily moving closer to the fighting; luckily nothing else has tried to jump out at me. By the time I can see battling Slayers and Demons through the downpour, and realize that I've wandered far too close to the fighting, a young man jumps out at me from behind the demon he's just killed. Luckily he realizes I'm human in time to pull his punch, or I'd be pieces of Willow. Then I realize I'm looking at Connor, Angel's son. We stand there frozen in shock for a second, then he leans close to speak to me. Which is a good call; I don't know how I'd be able to hear him otherwise. "You the witch?" He bellows.

I just nod, not sure I can get my voice loud enough to reply at this point. The wind and rain are almost frightening on their own, not to mention the battle going on around us. As I stand there wondering how Connor plans on helping me get where I need to be, he abruptly spins away from me, and faster than my eyes can follow he's fighting a Fyarl demon. I want to be able to help, with magicks or warnings, or…Something…But it's not safe for me to be where I am, and I have places to be. So when I spot Joy I make a break for her, hiding behind the Slayer as she takes out whatever it she's fighting; another demon I've never seen before, I know that much.

When the demon is good and dead (and oozing into a puddle of green and purple jelly, which is gross) Joyce drags me to a fire escape and practically throws me up the ladder. I continue to climb until I reach three bleary magic users trying to demolish anything they can with fireballs. In the normal course of things, I'd tell Wesley and Penny to pack it in and get some rest, but when I work my mojo we're going to need clean up crew, and none of us are one hundred percent. Not to mention the packed infirmary.

I grab Penny first, telling her to send Connor up. Other than being tired from days of magicks Penny's probably the least injured among the fighters; but fear for her Slayer is making her stick close to Elise, and I have to get old-school Giles-y on her butt, and remind her of her sacred duty before she listens to me.

Once she heads down the ladder, I tackle Wes. It requires less arguing than I'd have expected to get him to take a sword and go after Penny. In case the boy won't listen to a Slayer he barely knows, I repeat my order. And how weird is it that I'm giving orders? Anyway…

For a second, it's just me and Elise, standing there in the rain. I meet her eyes, and she returns a look that acknowledges what I'm about to do; it shivers up my spine, and I find my concentration broken as I wonder what she knows and if I need to know any of it…Then Connor pops up the ladder, breaking the spell between us. I fumble for a minute, trying to find my center again, and by the time I'm prepared I'm faced with two teenage warriors, injured and soaked with freezing cold rain, staring at me. And I'm ready.

Spike

Most of these demons we've been fighting aren't any tougher than what you'd normally meet on patrol. The trouble is in the sheer volume of them, and how long we've been fighting. And then, of course, there's the occasional really big nasty. Nothing like Glory, mind, but definitely some challenges. For example, the damn dragons.

Peaches got two of them before he went down; as though that's not irony, him wanting to slay dragons rather than leaving them for the Slayers. We've still got another overhead, and though it hasn't breathed any fire yet, we do know we can't ignore it for long.

Excuse us for being a tad busy with the giant at the moment. Right, so. I don't actually think it's a giant; the one earlier was almost twice the size of this, and wasn't as green. Too damn big to be a troll, though, that's for sure. Might be an ogre. Never seen one of them in person before. As I'm trying to remember my over-a-century-old training in demon identification, the blasted thing takes another swipe at me, and I'm forced to throw myself out of the way. Which has the advantage of taking out a large tan demon who was standing behind me, but causes me to crack a rib as I land awkwardly atop a pile of demon corpses. Bloody giant-whatever-the-fuck. I'm gonna really kill it now.

As I'm figuring how to give it a proper death, the thing retreats, and I gratefully take on the next demon, and the next…I fight my way through the mess for quite a while, sometimes aided by a Slayer, sometimes not. I don't remember the last time I stopped for blood; one of the girls killed a Crancik earlier and I took a few sips offa that, but I'm not up to snuff and I know it. Fortunately Merry is back; I know that if I have to duck out a mo she'll keep an eye on Laurie for me. Little Red is still hopping about, killing things and making room for more bodies as she goes. Someone's gotta bloody well keep an eye on the loopy little thing; daft bint's nearly had her head lopped off twice now while she was concentrating on moving corpses.

I watch her from the corner of my eye as she piles the demon dead out of our way, as I keep a careful watch on anything that might be trying to attack us. It takes me a few seconds standing there at the ready before I realize nothing is coming, and I relax and look around. Illyria is farthest to the front, Wes not far behind; both locked in heavy combat. Laurie is casually doing her thing, and Merry finishes up the one she'd been fighting, only to realize there isn't another to replace it and stumble.

That's when I notice the glow. Even with vampire eyesight, the rain and the glare from whatever the hell that is combine so that I can barely see it. All I can tell from here is that it's large, emitting a pinkish-gold glow, and the evil nasties I can see between us and the light are frozen in…Terror? Confusion? Hell if I know. As I stand there staring, trying to figure out what in blazes is going on here, I spot Penny and Connor coming up behind me.

"That's either really good, or really bad." The boy states, frowning into the rain.

"It's good." Penny mutters, stepping delicately past me. "Willow's doing it. Willow and Elise."

It occurs to me as she continues to walk, that I have no idea what would happen to one of the Slayers if they got caught in that thing, so I grab her and haul her back before we get the chance to find out. She fights me for a second, then calms and leans against me for a second. "Sorry." She mutters in my ear…Or maybe it just seems like she's whispering; I can't seem to hear much of anything at the moment. "It's a portal; it's attracting the demons into it, sucking them in. Guess I was a little too tapped into my not-so-human side there for a minute."

"Good thing Peaches is inside, then; his is never far from the surface." My response is reflexive, and I regret saying it when I catch a look at Con's face, but it happens to be the truth.

To avoid the confusion and hurt on the boy's face, I back up and assess where everyone is and what they're doing. In the absence of Angel, Wes seems to have taken over the ordering people about. None of us is tightly engaged at the moment, and he's taking the time to run about and direct everyone. He takes a blonde Slayer I haven't met out of the crowd, and sends her back towards the Hyperion, then pushes everyone else in my direction.

After a few minutes we're lined up just about back where we started this fight…When was it; two, three days ago? Except that we've made a few staffing changes, it's like déjà vu. None of us are in such good shape as when we began, but we're all hanging on. The three notable exceptions - the injured Slayer, Gunn and Peaches - I push from my mind. No sense wasting attention on that.

It seems now we've collected ourselves, the remaining demons have as well. Those who stood between us and the portal have begun to turn around and come back this way. Most of us are on the same page about finishing this up; we begin to move as one towards the portal and the oncoming demons.

It's not quite the shoulder-to-shoulder swarm we've been up against, and soon Illyria has pushed several feet ahead of everyone else, cutting a wide swath through anything she can reach. Connor is keeping pace with me and Laurie, though he still looks a mite distracted and upset; after a few minutes Penny dashes up and sends him off, taking his place in the front. I know Wes is somewhere behind us, cleaning up whatever sneaks past, or possibly covering that side alley.

We keep pushing forward as we cut the demons down. Some are easy to kill; we just reach out and cut them down as they try to flee the portal. Others are still fighting to win; Illyria almost gets hurt going toe-to-toe with a frantic demon attempting to flee the alley. Blue pulls it out in the end, though.

I'm starting to think we'll all see the end of this battle; that the worst has already happened, and the LA crew is about due some good luck…When that damn giant demon of indeterminate type comes back, looking to mow most of us down as he beats a hasty retreat from the portal that's swallowing the remaining nasties. We're all made to do some creative dodging to get out of its way, and it would've just taken off into the city except that Illyria lunges and takes it down at its knees. It's not all that much smaller kneeling, and not one of us can get a killing blow in; its heart and lungs are too well protected by the giant arms, the head is far too large to chop off quickly. One of those saws they use to cut through redwoods would be incredibly helpful at the mo. The Slayers managed to get that giant earlier somehow, though, so we can do this.

A flick of a big green wrist sends Penny back into me, and as I catch her and set her back on her feet, I'm close enough for a short conversation. "Happen to see how they took down that giant, earlier? Might be some helpful pointers there."

She throws a ferocious look over her shoulder at me as she pulls away. "We flattened it using magicks and arrows, then Wes made it stick to the ground. The other demons squashed it getting to us."

Okay, and we're swinging at this thing with swords the size of its fingers why, exactly? "And you can't do that again?"

"If either of us had any real power left, we'd be up there helping Willow. I might be able to take a small rodent down at this point, but nothing that huge."

Bloody fuckin' hell. Well, better get back in there, before it gets away for good. We separate and jump back into the fray just in time; Laurie's got the thing by the hand, weighing it down so Wes can hack off whatever he can reach. Probably just a few fingers. Not sure what that's gonna do, but I guess every little bit helps. While they work the left hand, Illyria and Merry are covering the right side, trying to get under its defenses and avoid getting hit by its mace. Which must leave us the center.

Penny is obviously far quicker than I am right now; she's already got her sword in the thing's gut, but she's having trouble pulling it out, and I'm about to go help her when the damn thing shakes Wes off its left hand and reaches for Penny, swinging Laurie off into the air. I rush after the flying Slayer, trusting Wesley to help the other. Manage to get myself under her before she hits the building wall or the pavement, and I can feel my cracked ribs break fully, but at least Little Red is okay. She's probably bruised and cursing an impressively blue streak, but before I can finish setting her on her feet she's hopped down and taken off into the battle again. I head after her, ignoring the ribs, worried that she's fighting angry. Fighting angry makes you sloppy, and we can't afford that; we're already down three, possibly four, fighters.

Illyria and Merry have somehow gotten the mace out of big green ugly's hand, and they're putting all their effort into hacking it off. The whole group has been dragged a good fifteen feet farther from the portal, but impossibly we're all still on our feet, and my injuries are likely the most serious. Though the Watcher and Penny are bleeding in interesting new places.

I dropped my sword running for Laurie, and my axes are long gone; right, need a weapon. Looking over the dead demons littering the alleyway, I find a big-ass thing, looks like a machete. Yep, that'll work. Taking up the oversized sword, I jump back in, ramming the sword into the big nasty just below where Penny's went in earlier. The problem is, the damn hide and tendons are too strong. That's why we haven't gotten anything but fingers chopped off. Even the extra-large, wide sword I grabbed sticks in the demon's stomach. It gets some attention, though; a large green hand swipes at me, and I hit the ground to avoid it, throwing a few kicks at the kneecaps while I'm down there.

Once someone else draws the hand's attention, I pop back up and run to get another sword. Wes is already there searching through the corpses for more weapons, and I help him out seeing as my eyesight is better and all. We collect five swords and a quiver of crossbow bolts before we head back. The girls and Illyria have held their own admirably, though Blue now has a nasty gash down the side of her face.

I start by flinging myself into the highest jump I can manage, and stick a sword between its ribs. The demon lurches forward while I'm in midair, and I have to grab onto its clothes to avoid being thrown to the ground and trampled. Since I'm up there, and so far the giant pillock doesn't seem inclined to pluck me off and toss me away, I call for a weapon. Wes tosses up a sword, and I climb further up, hoping to stick the blade into its throat and finish this once and for all. Turns out, I'm not the only one who had that idea. As I get high enough to see over the shoulder, I spy Laurie hanging on the demon's back, a knife clutched between her teeth. Luckily for us both hands, sans most fingers by now, are occupied with the others, and we manage to reach the neck without being knocked off.

Before I can form a plan where we won't stab one another while trying to kill the ogre-like demon, she takes the little knife from between her teeth, and slams it into the jugular vein. Doesn't make much of a dent, and it pops back out right away; but it's pushed out by the flow of blood, so that must be a good thing. Also a good sign, albeit a painful one, is that the thing has started screaming rather than roaring. Working on a hunch, I direct her with hand gestures to move back, then stick my sword into the same hole the knife came from, aiming for the spine. I might have nicked it, but it's hard to tell 'cause the sword gets lodged in the demon's thick neck before I can push it in very far.

Must've hit something good, because the demon; which has fought through our entire attack, pulling us along as it moved, is suddenly swaying on its knees. I can hear the clanging of weapons below me, and feel movement, but I'm still leaning on the sword trying to press it home; the only person I can see is Laurie, who is trying to work another knife into the thing's shoulder and put an arm out of commission.

The wavering becomes more pronounced, and I suddenly notice that Laurie and I are swinging 20 feet in the air, and the demon's liable to land on one or the other of us at any moment. "Oi!" I yell to get her attention. "Get down, I think it's gonna fall!" I'm moving again, climbing as quickly as I can across fabric made slick with blood and rain, hoping I get close enough to do her some good.

"It's not dead yet; I need to make sure it's dead. I can jump off, it'll be fine." Famous last words from the defiant teenager; the demon leans dramatically to the side, shifting both of us so we're barely hanging on and unable to get any traction.

Frantic now, for no reason I could explain, I grab the little girl with the hand that's lost its grip on big green; twisting the other into a strap to keep me attached. I look around enough to catch sight of a mess of blue hair, and call out for her. "Blue, catch!" I push as hard as I can, fighting against the sway of the demon as it falls to earth and Laurie's determination to stay right where she is. I make it, barely; managing to throw her free into Illyria as the angle of the world shifts. There's a rush of air as I fall, and then I make impact. There's maybe a second between the time I hit the ground and when the demon falls on top of me. I'm aware of both impacts; the sounds of breaking bones, the splash of rainwater as I hit a puddle; and the incredible pain. The only thing close to this I can think of was when Glory had me. Then, there's merciful darkness, as the pain carries me away.

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Elise

Willow's casting is like nothing I've ever seen. First, she settles down on the floor of the fire escape and meditates. If you concentrate, you can sense the energy she's drawing through herself. When she's done meditating, she stands against the railing, grabs my hand, and begins to chant. I can feel my power connecting to hers, like a lamp plugged into a wall socket; there's a current running through me that connects to her, and it draws energy out of me.

Connor ditched us almost immediately with a promise to be back soon. For the moment, it's just us girls on the fire escape, with a bird's eye view of the action and everyone else down on the ground.

Willow's focus is on the rift the demon horde is emerging from. As near as I can anticipate, she's turning it into a vacuum which will stop the tide and suck the demons back in. When I feel the pull through me as she saps more energy, I know I'm right. The dark area hiding the world beyond the alley is lightening, becoming more stable, and fewer demons are getting through. At first it's hard to see the changes because of the rain, but then the rain is no impediment to our vision; neither are the buildings or the demons. We see every aspect of the portal clearly; we know where the demons are coming from, and we know how to send them back.

There are human police, and a group of demon fighters on the streets at either end of the block. Few demons have attempted to go around the battle; that must be where the ones coming in through the side alley came from. The humans are making an effort to keep anything from getting past them, even if most of them don't understand what they're fighting.

As another surge of energy pulls out of us for the casting, the portal begins to suck demons back inside, expanding at the same time. It leaves the buildings untouched, but when one police car tries to herd the demons towards the portal, the car is sucked in as well. Whoops. Thankfully, the other humans get the message and back off. We worry that we won't be able to retrieve the humans if we wait, but we can't divert our attention from the portal, or it will return to spitting out demons.

The portal is fully reversed now, sucking the demons back in; but it's taking a lot of energy to keep it working in our favor, and also keep it from expanding too much and swallowing the humans as well as our people. We need more power, so Willow can focus her energies on holding the spell together. We call out for Miss Penny, fully understanding now why we needed Connor up here. Her concentration isn't with us, and it takes several minutes for the plea to be heard; by that time the portal has expanded even more, and the demons left in the alley are running scared, straight into our fighting force. It takes Miss Penny a while to get to Connor and send him up here; by the time he arrives we're starting to feel woozy.

Without either of us breaking our concentration he's suddenly got us by the hands. The rush… We don't know if we were that tired or if he's that powerful, but feeling him flowing through us is like nothing we've ever been part of. I lose my focus for a moment; there's only the power flowing through me, and I'm not weakened anymore, I'm stronger than I've ever been. Then there's a sharp mental nudge from the others, and I put my focus back on the portal.

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(Sort of still Elise, but joined to Willow)

Our Slayers below take down most of the demons running from the portal before they can get away; a few escape the humans and flee into the city. The Slayers get stuck in pitched warfare with a green demon, and rather than join the fight several other demons flee past them. Only one attempts to get through the barrier we've placed around the Hyperion; it isn't successful.

We don't have enough energy to affect the fight below us, though we know the outcome already. We feel a vague hostility, mixed with a heavy sorrow, as we share the knowledge. As the demon falls to earth, taking William with it, we move to shut down the portal once and for all. The battle is nearly ended, all that remains now is to clean up and heal our people.

The Slayers below, led by the God Illyria, attempt to move the dead demon off William; we look on, wishing we could offer assistance. But if we lose our focus on the portal now all of them will die.

The portal grows smaller, and sealing it takes all of our concentration now. The magicks that cooled the air, brought the rain, and opened a door into our dimension for the demons are fighting back; we're having trouble shutting them down. We manage to counteract pieces of the spells, setting things to rights a little at a time, but we're losing power. We don't have enough energy left to complete our task. We fight our fatigue and push all our focus into breaking apart the magicks resisting us, but it's obvious that we're not going to be able to finish this without help.

As we struggle to find more energy and work against the dark magicks filling the alley, one of the Slayers breaks away from the group and heads towards us. Before she gets here, one we sent away earlier comes and joins her energy to ours. The addition of the two Slayers, bound by a blood connection to one another, helps a great deal. They don't have great power, not the way we do, but they have enough to make us stronger. As our essences join, as we all work instinctively towards the goal of ending this battle, we realize our power is enhanced by our bonds. We are sisterly love, affection, attraction, and friendships old and new. It make us stronger than the dark magicks.

Illyria and the Slayers below finally throw the large demon away from the vampire and towards the portal. Knowing we need to finish this, we call out to the Slayers to go back to the Hyperion. Illyria, we allow to choose. She can stay in our dimension and work with the Slayers, or we can send her where she will be free to lead the demon hordes. We are surprised and grateful when she chooses to stay, and helps the other warriors inside.

Now there is one final step. We use the magicks that created the rain, and turn them into a wind. The air currents scoop up the piles of demon dead, and push them into the portal. When all that is left in the alley are scattered weapons and small puddles the wind didn't catch, we dissolve that casting all the way back to non-existence, and focus once again on the portal. Already it's breaking down, the destruction of the weather magicks weakening it, and it requires little effort now to push the portal back in on itself and dissolve it completely.

For several moments after the portal closes, we remain connected, standing pressed together in the clear, rapidly warming night. There's hardly a sound; the only movement in the streets and alleys around the Hyperion is made by humans emerging to tentatively explore their new safety. And, a few rats and mice.

Slowly, we step apart. We are tired, but euphoric in victory. Then, as we are easing apart, our mental connection snaps abruptly when Willow collapses to the grate beneath her.