Brazil 315 am:

The tinny chimes of ding dong the witch is dead reverberated through the small apartment.
“Crap!” Rolling over to answer her cell, which she was sure, had no business ringing this time of the morning, Willow swore softly.
Grumbling to herself about Slayers and selective deafness, she reached across the form of the slayer in question, blindly fumbling for the phone on the bedside table.

"Hello?”
Kennedy, none too gently, elbowed her in the ribs. Then still dead to the world turned over, mumbling something that sounded to Willow’s not quite awake ears like “Willow… put the dragon out and come to bed.”

“Huh?” momentarily distracted by her lovers request she blinked owlishly, before remembering that she was holding the phone and had no Idea who was on the other end.
Putting the phone back to her ear she apologised “Uh gee, sorry about that”.

Her apology was met with silence, the faint hiss of the open line the only thing to indicate that someone was on the other end.
Rolling her eyes she grumbled into the phone threateningly.
“Andrew you little dweeb, if your playing stupid pranks again? I’m warning you now, I’ve never turned anyone into a frog long distance before, but for you I’m willing to make the effort.”

Her threat was met by silence, the resulting chill scuttling down her spine leaving her with a heavy sense of foreboding.

Suddenly nervous, she strained her ears waiting for the unknown caller to speak. After listening intently for several seconds she was able to make out what sounded like harsh breathing and even more faintly something she thought might be thunder.

“Andrew?”
She felt the chill of earlier wash over her, even as his name left her lips.
With it came the certainty that this particular call was far from one of the wannabe watcher’s practical jokes.

A moment later her fears were confirmed when a woman’s voice broke the unnerving silence.

“Willow Rosenberg?”
The name was a question, one that had its owner, breaking out in goose-bumps. Cursing the fact that for once she’d actually remembered to charge her dam phone Willow replied.

“Y-Yes, this is Willow. Who is this?” trying to quell the obvious shakiness in her voice she swallowed, hard.

“You are needed here,” stated the voice, command implied in its tone.
“You will come to the city of Los Angeles now” the caller demanded.

“And with the huh?” Willow managed to reply, trying to fight the urge to slam her cell closed.
Even as the Willow part of her quailed under the arrogance in her mystery caller’s voice, the witch in her was roused. With relief, Willow felt her inner geek recede as power flared in annoyance.
“Look Missy… I don’t know who the hell you think you are ringing this time of the morning, or how you know my name, but there is no way…”

““Hey Red” interrupted a familiar voice.

The fact that the voice was male and supposedly dead had Willow completely lose the thread of what she’d been saying.
“S-Spike?” she squeaked, her heart suddenly leaping into her throat.
“Spike” she stuttered “Is- is that you?”

“Yeah s’me pet,” the very lost and weary voice replied.

“B-But you’re dead…The Hellmouth and…and Buffy told us… and you’re dead!” she repeated, confusion and wonder warring in her tone.

“Still dead luv… just not quite as dead as you all thought,” rasped Spike, erupting into a harsh coughing fit.

Willow was alarmed to realise; even as her brain was trying to come to terms with the fact that she was talking to a twice dead man.
That she was still thanks to her years on the Hellmouth able to identify the bubbling noise underlaying his coughing, as lungs filling with blood.

“Bloody hell that hurt!” he cursed.

And if she hadn’t been sure it was him before, she was now.

“Oh my Goddess Spike it’s really you... Where are you? …. Where have you been… does Buffy know?”

“NO, Bloody hell… No” Pain filled voice full of panic he growled.
“And don’t you go telling her either Red or I swear, dying or not, Ill bloody well eat ya.”

“But Spike,” she started, only to be interrupted by another coughing fit.

“Listen Red…Can’t explain now, least not before I pass out again… I need you to come to LA ….to the Hyperion… Angel’s old place”

“But…”

“No buts Red, you’re my only hope. You can’t tell the others nothing… specially not Buffy…Look, I gotta go ... the pain… its…”

Willow heard the thud of something soft and the clatter of the receiver as it fell to the floor, then moments later the soft scrape as it was picked up.

“Spike? Spike are you there?” she gasped, heart racing. “Oh Goddess Spike… what the hell is going on down there?”

Willow found herself clamping her teeth together; hard enough to make her jaw ache, as the cold voice from earlier met her frantic entreaty.

“The vampire is unconscious and can not speak Willow Rosenberg” informed the still unknown woman, her tone devoid of emotion.

“I believe that he may end soon. This shell’s memories tell me that the vampire must have your help if he is to survive.
You will do as I command and come, or I will wreak my vengeance upon you and all you hold dear.”

Willow shuddered. The voice was hard steel and pure power, her threat striking fear into Willows heart in a way she hadn’t felt for a very very long time.
But it was the words she spoke next that struck the deeper chord.
Willows heart clenched both with the sentiment behind the words, and the familiar name.

“I grieve still for Wesley; I do not wish to feel grief for one who is no more than a pet”
She paused and once again Willow could make out the distant sound of thunder.
“The white haired one... Spike... he must continue, I Illyria command it.
You will do this thing… Please”
Shockingly with that one word the voice changed, and Willows world spun on its axis.
The voice softened, all the former arrogance fleeing, leaving only the familiar tones of a voice Willow new well, confirmed chillingly by the soft hint of Texan twang.
“Wesley would have wanted y’all to help Spike”. She entreated.
“OH GOD Willow. I-I think Angel is dead …and Gunn is gone too. But I can’t think about that now... Please Willow y’all just have to come. I don’t know what ta do... I-I think he’s dyin’ and I can’t stop the bleeding. I can’t lie to him the way I did for Wes…God Willow I don’t know who I am… where I am…”

The voice Willow recognised as Fred’s broke down, the witch holding the receiver in a tightly clenched fist.

Ok, I am officially wigged, came the irrelevant thought. Talk about a Sybil moment.

“F-Fred is that you?” She managed to stutter, her mind spinning with questions she had no way to answer.
There was no reply other than the noise of someone gasping for air between hiccuping sobs.
“Fred, answer me dam it, what the hell is going on over there?”

“I… You must come” was the sudden statement, the crying stoping as if it had never been.

“We are fractured,” a voice out of time and place moaned, harsh and alien then soft and human. Two different beings using the same throat, cold steel then warm honey all wrapped around each other so there was no way to tell where one started and the other left off.

“This shell…I am weak… She is gone but she is not… and-and… the grief it feeds her ability to be…Oh my Wesley… my Wesley” the voice cried, before once again falling silent.

Willow was now beyond cold, her teeth chattering so hard it was making her jaw ache again.
The voice, correction voices, was most definitely Freds, but at the same time she knew that they weren’t. Not completely.

Her mind was turning over a thousand possibilities, none of them good.
Stubbornly her brain kept returning to the fact that Spike was there with whomever the hell this creature... thing… was, and that he was somehow alive and she…no…they all owed him so much.

And there it was, that feeling she got just before she did a spell that she knew was going to work…That she knew was right.

“Hang on Fred, you just hang on. Tell Spike I’ll be there as soon as I can.
Tell him not to worry, I have the things I need…and… and that I won’t tell Buffy.
At least” she amended, biting her lip nervously. “Not till I see him.
“But you make sure Fred…”

“Illyria”
The single clipped word interrupted the Witches instructions.
Gone was the familiarity of the shy Texans tone, replaced by an alien hardness that instantly stopped Willow cold.

“I am Illyria God King of the primordia ... there is no Fred …she is gone… her shell, now mine!
I am here…I will watch over him until you come.
But mark me witch you will not fail him.” The voice hissed.
“I am less than I was, but I am Illyria. I ruled long before human pestilence crawled upon this plain. Be warned, if he dies I will rip your living entrails from your body.”

Willow shivered as the cold she was feeling intensified, and in that moment she was beyond sure that the being on the other end of the phone could and would carry out the threat.
She knew with terrifying certainty deep in her bones that the distance between them was no impediment, that if she failed to do as the God King demanded she would die… painfully. It was all there in her voice, hers was no idle promise… just absolute arrogant certainty.

Shaking in reaction at her frightening realisation she grasped for a lifeline, the one thing that she had always been able to count on… her magic.
Calling up her own inner strength before she found herself giving into her dread, Willow concentrated hard and brought her magic to the fore.

“Enough,” she commanded, voice filled with the power of her mother, the earth.
“I do not need threats to make me do this Fr-Illyria… whoever the hell you are" Willows voice was solid and steady now that her decision had been made.

“I will be there within the hour… The Hyperion hotel front foyer… be sure it’s clear.”
I will be teleporting, and I would rather not end up as part of a couch.”
The last was said wryly in a much more normal tone as Willow released the borrowed power back to the place she’d taken it from.

The magic had cleared her mind and her fear, centring her so she could do this without failing. More importantly it helped to control her fear about what she was going to find when she got there.

The response was anticlimactic and short.

“As you wish Willow Rosenberg”
“I will be waiting,” and the connection was cut.

Replacing the receiver Willow muttered under her breath.
“Somehow that doesn’t help.”


It took her only minutes to gather the things she needed and write a note for her sleeping lover.
Her conscience twinged a bit over the note.

She’d told Kennedy not to worry, that she had been called away on coven business.
She knew that her possessive girlfriend was much less likely to wonder what was going on if her absence wasn’t council related.

She then retreated to her meditation room and set up what she needed for the spell.
As she worked she ran the conversation with Spike and Illyria through her mind.

Even though certain of Spike’s identity, she was still worried about the possibility of a trap. After all, she was pretty certain, if she had interpreted the God Kings words correctly, that whatever had possessed Fred had obviously not been invited.

Oh well, nothing I can do about it until it happens.

Still, just in case she pocketed a couple of the crystals she’d been using to help her focus her defensive magic.
It never hurts to be all boyscouty was her smug thought as she went over the last of the incantation needed to allow her to transport herself to LA.

Finally her preparations were done.
Well Will this is it. Fingers crossed.
She stepped into the circle and started to chant.

“Spirits of the earth I entreat thee. She began.
“Gaia I humbly beg your favour.
Carry this penitent to the time and place of her choice” her arms rose beseechingly as she called out her final line.
”By Gaia’s will let the west door be opened.”

With the words said she traced the image of the glyph she needed in the air, concentrating until it glowed with the otherworldly blue light that signified the Mother was listening.

Now for the tricky bit…

“With Hecates’ blessing I walk between the veils,” she intoned, tracing another symbol to ask for permission and protection.
To her relief the glyph briefly burned red, showing that permission had been given.

Reassured, Willow raised her hands once more to call out a word of power, bringing her arms down together sharply, ending with palms face out.

A line of white fire grew from the apex of her gesture to the floor and with one last word and gesture it was done.
“Open” she commanded throwing her arms wide.
The light flared, becoming dazzling in its brilliance, before it splitting in two and parting like the doors to an otherworldly elevator.

Wow…Just like the twilight zone the witch thought irreverently, stepping through the doorway and out into the lobby of the Hyperion.
There was a brief flash of white behind her, and then Willow became aware that she was not alone.

“You will come with me Willow Rosenberg” ordered the voice, the speaker veiled from Willows sight by the shadows.

Willow reached into her pocket and clasped one of the crystals she had brought, preparing to defend herself.

“Show your self” she barked out, keeping her breathing deep and even as she gathered power to herself, just in case.

“You waste time Witch… time put to better use, but I will acquiescence to your demand this once.”

When Illyria stepped out of the shadows Willow couldn’t help the gasp that left her lips.

She had always found Fred attractive, but the being standing before her had a beauty and grace that Fred could never have owned.

Willow could feel the power coming off her from where she was standing meters away, and the alien blueness that should have repulsed, only made Willow wonder if the skin all over her body was the same shade.

Bad Willow, bad, she scolded herself, flushing at the sudden warmth she was feeling. Pinned by the gaze of a Demon.

“Ok so I’m here. Where’s Spike?” she demanded, trying to get her mind to focus on the situation and not the way Illyria’s body armor hugged her in all the right places.

“He is upstairs. You will hurry now and repair him.
I wish to do more violence and find myself unable to leave my pet while he is still damaged.”

“Okayyy”… Willow drawled trying to control her sudden amusement at Illyria’s bluntness.
“Well Ill see what I can do for him… but If he’s not dust I think it’s safe to say that he will probably be all right.”

Illyria turned her head to meet Willow’s gaze, eyebrow quirked in a curiously familiar gesture.

“That may be so Witch, but you have not yet seen him.”

Willow nodded noncommittally before following the former God king up the stairs.




Please review... should I continue?

Buffy pushed her hair back from her face and inhaled the warm night air.
She could smell the popcorn and cotton candy, thinking wistfully that the sounds of joyful screams were a type of music she’d never thought to hear.

The lights of the carnival shone brightly, a myriad of rainbow colours reflected in the eyes of the man whose hand she held. Smiling down at her, those same eyes carried only warmth and affection.

She looked up into them and gave his hand a small squeeze, ducking her head so he wouldn’t see the sudden tears that glittered in hers.

She was in Rome, one of the most romantic cities in the world, walking hand in hand with a man who openly adored her.
Her life as The Slayer behind her, free at last to live a normal life.

So why when she should be enjoying that life, and the new man in it, was she thinking of blue eyes and the man whose very soul seemed to be mirrored in them.

“What is it Cara?” her boyfriend enquired “Are you not having a good time?”
Pulling her into his arms he gently tilted her chin with his fingertips so he could study her face.

She smiled at him.
It was warm and glowing with the promise of laughter, the laughter he saw so rarely. Still he was sad but not surprised to notice that it did not reach her eyes.

“You are thinking of him again, yes?” He asked gently, heart aching for this woman he had come to care for so much in the last few months.

For over two thousand years he had walked the earth alone, taking his pleasure from the many woman he met, vowing to never again let the pain of loosing a lover touch him the way it had that first and only time .
Years had passed with that vow unbroken. Until now.
It had taken one glance across a crowded dance floor to feel that long forgotten stirring in his heart and he knew he was lost to the emotions this woman had awoken.

He looked deep into hazel eyes, shinning with unshed tears that he knew she would not normally allow to fall in his presence.
Again he cursed the fates for bringing her to him, this woman whom he should be able to love like no other. Knowing he could never really have her…. not completely.

Her heart was lost with him the vampire that had given his soul and his life for her.
She had no more love to give; it had been burnt and consumed along with her lover in the Hellmouth.

“No… no Armando, I’m having a wonderful time.” She offered, trying to reassure the man in whose arms she rested.

“I guess It’s just sometimes… sometimes when I’m least expecting it I forget for a moment that he’s truly gone and …and then when I remember” Her voice trailed off the truth of her words robbing her of her ability to finish.

Pulling her closer, his lips brushed her forehead while he murmured soft words of comfort.
“Ah Mi Amore, I know it is hard and that you miss him”. He offered gently. “But I believe from all you have told me of him he would not have wanted you to grieve. He gave his life for you, yes? He would not wish for you to be so sad Buffy.
I am sure he would want you to remember only the happy times.”

His eyes caressed her face, sincerity shinning from them, and once again it struck her just how unfair her life was.

This man offered everything she had ever wanted. He was wise and kind, handsome, rich, funny, and a wonderful lover.
He should have been so easy to fall in love with, but no matter how much she wished differently she wasn’t in love with him and she knew she never would be.

Unknowingly her thoughts echoed his earlier ones.
Thinking to her self, that it seemed to her that any ability she’d had to love had died with Spike and the destruction of Sunnydale.

“The happy times” she murmured wistfully,” Not so many of those I’m afraid, Spike and I, we were more about the bad times,” she finished sadly.

“Ah” he said nodding his head wisely… “But in the end my little one I think it was not so bad, Yes?”

“Yeah, you’re right in the end at times it was… better… he... I ... We were better.”
The tears in her eyes spilled over and flowed down her cheeks as she remembered those last few nights in her basement, and the belief in her that she had seen in his eyes each time he looked her way.
Then of course they went inevitably to those last few minutes in the Hellmouth when his belief in her had faltered, refusing to believe her long awaited words of love.


“Stupid damn vampire” she mumbled sniffling against the Immortal’s chest.
“I told him and he didn’t believe me. All those years he waited… wanted me to tell him… even throw him just a crumb and when I finally admit it to myself and to him … the stupid, pigheaded dumb vampire doesn’t believe me.”

’No you don’t … but thanks for saying it” she muttered angrily… “Ill give him no you don’t.”
Her sudden fury abruptly vanished as once again the fact that she was never going to get the chance to yell at him again hit her. Gasping as her heart clenched with loss, she squeezed her eyes shut trying to will away the fresh wave of pain.

“It is ok Mia-caro …I remember what it feels like to loose the one you love before you have the chance to know that love completely.” He soothed.
“It is a thing that takes enorme amount of time to come to terms with” the Immortal offered solemnly, even as His thoughts drifted to another woman with hazel eyes that he had loved long ago.

“You will always have the pain mi caro… but it will get better with time.”
Head dipping gallantly, he swept her up in his arms and whirled her around until despite herself Buffy found herself laughing dizzily.
“And I of course will do my best to see that the time for you she flies’s… Hey Belladonna”.

When her head and her stomach had stopped spinning she reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, before brushing her lips against his.
Pulling back she smiled…
“Thank you Armando for being here and being so understanding… I don’t know what I would have done without you these past few months… The others,” she sighed.
“Well the others just wouldn’t understand. But in a weird way the fact that you knew him all those years ago, even soulless, makes it somehow easier to be open with you”.

“Ah mio-amore, did I not tell you that I would be your shoulder to cry on, that having you in my life is thanks enough?”

Staring into his eyes Buffy watched his expression become serious with his next words

“These things I meant Buffy… jealousy is an emotion that for someone my age is not, how would you say appetibile. His brow furrowed before clearing. “Ah yes in English you would say… not becoming.”
He laughed lightly at her amused eye roll, and pulled her closer into his side before turning to survey the carnival.

Eyes scanning the many attractions, looking for something to amuse and distract his girl, his gaze fell upon a very familiar gypsy tent and his brows lifted in surprise.
Ah Magda is here he thought. I should have known… Ah well. He sighed giving a mental shrug.. It is, as the powers must want.

“Hey, mio slayer. I have an idea, come we will go and see an old friend and she if you cross her palm with silver will tell your fortune.”
At her sceptical look he released her only to enfold her hand in his, tugging her towards the tent.
”Come it will be fun Buffy, and who knows, you might find some of the answers to the questions that trouble you so. Come,” he urged again, suddenly boyish in his enthusiasm to break Buffy from her gloom.

“I don’t know Armando” said Buffy hesitantly as her boyfriend tried to pull her towards a tent of royal purple that was covered in tacky paintings of mystical signs and stars.

“Me and the mystical… not much with the mixy… had a bad experience with this mummy hand once and it sorta soured me on the whole mystical deal” she muttered nervously.
“Besides" she said brightly "I’ve still got that whole slayer dream early warning system going, so I’m good.”
She laughed and started to back away from the tent trying to coax the man with her away from the place that suddenly had her slayer senses tingling.

She thought she had won the little battle, when all of a sudden he shouted with laughter.
“Oh mio slayer you are afraid of the fortune teller… oh that is so funny, my brave little Slayer is afraid to have her fortune told,” he teased still chuckling as he pulled her into his arms.

“I AM NOT SCARED,” she denied loudly and indignantly, even as she felt herself flushing right to the roots of her hair.

He shot her a sceptical look, grinning inwardly as a look of determination settled on her features.

“It is ok Buffy” he soothed “a lot of people are nervous of the fortune telling, it is nothing to be ashamed of, to be frightened is……”

“Right that’s it” she spat with a glare, cutting him off before he could finish.
“C’mon then, lets get this over with.”
Releasing his hand she turned and marched determinedly towards the large purple tent.

If she had taken just a moment to look at her lover she would have seen a strange mixture of sadness and trepidation in his eyes, carefully hidden behind the carefree mask of amusement that he showed the world.

God, its dark up here. The redhead thought nervously, as she hesitantly followed the blue demon.

Illyria strode ahead, her purposeful steps illuminated by flashes of lightening from the storm that was raging out side.
She looked every inch the fierce warrior God King she claimed to be. All traces of the gentle Fred gone her countenance cold and determined.

Willows eyes scanned the hall she was following Illyria down, noticing that the old hotel seemed to have changed little since her last visit, same old dust and cobwebs and creepy sense of doom.
And Oh yeah, lets not forget the hotels last occupant, The higher power peace on Earth- that ate people. That particular unwelcome memory was accompanied by its very own rather large shiver.

With that disturbing thought Willow found herself walking just a little faster in an effort to catch up with her companion.

“Hey Ah Illyria” she ventured as she reached the demons side.
“Illyria?, is ok isn’t it?
You don’t want me to call you king Illyria do you?” she asked quizzically.
“Cos I could so do that but… what with the whole your female thing well… shouldn’t that make you a queen... Then again maybe your kind don’t have a sex”…
She gasped clapping a hand over her mouth in horror.
“Oh my God I didn’t mean that like it sounded. I-I don’t mean you don’t have sex cos of course you… um... ah... probably have lots of sex it’s just that I meant to say that your species…”

“We are here”, interrupted Illyria throwing her a cool glance.
“Cease your useless babbling and attend to the vampire.”

Blushing heavily under the blue demons regard Willow pushed open the door in front of her.

The room was darker than any place had the right to be.
At least that was her first thought as she strained her eyes trying to make out the details of the furniture or the occupant, unfortunately she could see nothing beyond the doorway.

Willow swallowed nervously. Glancing back over her shoulder she registered that Illyria had not moved from her earlier position, she was also reassured to see there was no obvious sign of threat in her body language.

“Illyria” she ventured timidly “Do you have some candles or a torch, some sort of light? You know us humans, where all about the seeing” she joked, more to lighten her own mood than the former God King’s.

Illyria reached towards Willows head and the witch found herself flinching back to avoid contact, her heart racing as she waited for the blow that never came.

Even as Illyria retracted her arm there was the sound of a switch being flipped and the room was suddenly lit by the soft glow of several table lamps.

Willow opened her mouth to ask about the whole, why was I stumbling around in the dark trying not to fall down the stairs or bark my shins on unseen furniture thing?, when she caught the blank look on the former God Kings face and thought better of it.

Shaking her head sheepishly she moved into the room, carefully searching for the vampire she had come to see.
When her eyes finally adjusted to the low lighting in the room, for a moment she wished for the blackness that had hidden his body from view.

Spike lay on one of the old hotel beds, the light from the bedside table illuminating the wreck his body had become.

Illyria had been right, there was blood... lots of it, it was pooled darkly on the mattress around him… but it was the burns that were the worst.

Spike’s left side was a charred mess, she could see the bones of his ribs gleaming wetly through the crusted charcoal of his skin, and most of his left arm seemed to be missing, the skin and muscle burnt completely away leaving only the naked blackened bone where his arm had been.

Willow gasped, tears stinging her eyes as she took in the ruin of the man on the bed before her.

Where he wasn’t burnt, and that she noted dizzily was not many places, there were large still bleeding wounds like something had taken more than few bites out of him.
His platinum hair was mostly gone, leaving only sparse patches of burnt silver stubble on his blackened scalp.
But it was his face that was the worst; his nose was gone as were his lips, burnt away so it looked to her shocked gaze like he was somehow… grinning at her discomfort.

She wasn’t close enough to see his eyes in any detail but she had an idea that they probably hadn’t fared much better.

“Oh my Goddess” she whispered, her stomach finally catching up with her eyes.

Stumbling from the room she found herself in the hall emptying the contents of said stomach, as tears flowed freely down her face.

After long minutes that seemed to stretch into hours she stopped crying and retching long enough to turn to the figure that still stood by the door, armour the colour of dried blood glistening in the ambient light cast by the lamps beyond.

“How is he even alive?” she gasped out… “What the hell did that to him...? Oh Gaia help him, how is he not dust?” Sobbing, Willow turned her anguished gaze on the impassive figure in the doorway.

Illyria cocked her head to the side studying Willow as though puzzled by her question.

“He is not alive… he is no more than an animated corpse, the demon inside gives the appearance of life, but he has never been alive Witch.
As to the reason he is not dust”… she paused to glance at the still figure on the bed.
“I believe it is as he would say… Sheer bloody mindedness.”

The phrase Willow recognised as a spikeism, but the voice it was delivered in was with out inflection, somehow giving the words a deeper meaning.

“What did this Illyria, and where are the others?” asked Willow her voice lost, the shock of Spike’s condition overwhelming her.
“You said Gunn and Wes are dead and Angel is missing but what about Lorne and…”
About to say Fred, she realised once again who she was speaking to. It was only reflex that had made her ask, something to fill her mind and mouth, anything to avoid what lay in that room only meters away.

Of course Fred was right here standing In front of her, or at least Fred’s body was.
She studied the body of the woman in question, this time using her magical senses and not her libido.

The armour that she had noted earlier; was probably part of the demon she realised, rather than just a covering.
The hair and eyes that were such a vivid blue seemed to crackle with a low level electricity that would be unseen by the normal human eye.
Some sort of protective shield she was betting, like the armour but not as cumbersome.

Illyria at first glance seemed to be untouched by whatever it was that had so decimated Angel’s crew but as Willow studied the former God King closely she could see traces of a darker blue liquid, and splashes of what looked to her like human blood.
There was something in her face as well; something in her stance that Willow knew instinctively was not normally present in the God Kings demeanour.

Her expression was that of someone trying very hard to keep from screaming.

Willow looked deep into her alien eyes and yes... there, hidden by the harsh stare, she thought she could detect traces of the grief and panic that she had heard on the phone earlier.

Willow knew that this wasn’t Fred, and the thing inside her friends form had probably stolen the body it resided in, but a part of her still couldn’t stop the urge welling up inside, the one that had her wanting to reach out and comfort this being who was so obviously in pain.

“Illyria it’s ok… you don’t have to tell me, it can wait” she offered gently, before moving forward and placing her hand on the demon’s arm, not even stopping to wonder if Illyria would allow the familiarity.

“You are right, Spike is here and he needs my help” she paused, squaring her shoulders before removing her hand from the others arm.
Turning to face the room, her voice and face full of her famous resolve she stated flatly.
“Nothing else matters. This is about Spike… anything else can wait”.

With those words Willow took a deep breath and re-entered the room to access what, if anything she could do for the horrifically damaged vampire.

Behind her Illyria’s eyes closed briefly her shoulders relaxing, letting go for the moment the tight control she had been maintaining over her form and emotions.

Fred’s memories of Willow bombarded the blue demon, the already confused God feeling yet another surge of emotion alien to her… gratitude.



See authors note.

Buffy halted abruptly at the opening to the fortune-tellers’ tent. Her bravado briefly deserted her as she again became aware of the tingling of her spidey senses.

The whole idea of having your fortune told had always wigged Buffy out big time, as if something deep down inside of her liked the thought of not knowing what was coming. Even as a small child at the carnivals and fairs her parents had taken her to, she had shied away from most of the fortune-tellers tents. The few times she had thought about it over the years, she had put her aversion down to her subconscious liking the whole ‘live in the land of denial’ thing. After all, her destiny was to be the slayer so she figured that her brain was probably just trying to cut her a break by not allowing her to get a heads up before she was called.

It was funny though, all those years she’d never thought to question how she knew which one’s were the real deal and which one’s were fake. She’d just known instinctively to avoid certain tents at certain fairs. Oh yeah, denial is my middle name. Her thought was accompanied by its very own mental eye roll, the irony of her currant situation not failing to hit home. Apparently, even back then, she had unknowingly sensed that such things were real.


“Oh well, best to just bite the bullet and get on with it,” she muttered, Armando’s laughter seemingly spurring her on in a way that no teasing from her friends ever had. She remembered one night, years ago in Sunnydale, when Xander, Willow, Riley and she visited a similar carnival. Xander and Willow both paid the small fee to have their fortunes told. She’d laughed off their attempts to get her into the tent by saying that she got all that sort of thing for free as the Slayer and that she’d rather blow the money on the tunnel of love. That, of course, had distracted Riley just like she’d planned, and he had all but dragged her away from the fortune-tellers’ tent.

Standing here now, she wondered idly if maybe her life would have turned out differently if she had let her friends talk her into having her fortune read that night. Maybe, just maybe she would have had warning about what was to come between herself and Glory… the whole dying thing. Even more importantly, she might have treated Spike differently if she had known he was more than he appeared to be.

What was it her Mother used to say? Something about wishes and horses and some sort of begging deal?

Oh well stalled enough, I guess, came the thought as she moved towards the tents doorway. C’mon, Buff you can do this It’s not like your gonna find out anything too earth shattering. I mean, what’s the worst thing she could say?
“I see the end of the world in your future…. beware the dark man,” she muttered mockingly. “Oooohh, scary…. Hell, I got the t-shirt.”

Armando, sensing her renewed hesitation, smiled at her before reaching down to take her hand, squeezing it gently as he wordlessly tried to convey his support. Together they stepped through the entrance and found themselves faced with a beaded curtain that hid the tent’s interior from curious eyes.

“Welcome to Madame Magda’s,” said a woman’s voice, echoing strangely from within the confines of the tent. “Step forward and be welcomed. May you find the answers you seek.”

As Buffy and the Immortal parted the beaded curtain, it seemed for a moment, to the Slayer at least, that she had stepped much farther away from the lights of the carnival than a few paces inside a gaudy tent. She looked around cautiously, her senses on full alert. She was quick to take note that the tent seemed a lot bigger on the inside than it did on the out.

Finally, her eyes came to rest on the woman she could only assume was Madame Magda. They widened in surprise as she took in the dark hair and eyes of the young and beautiful woman seated at the small round table in front of them.

“Uh hi… Wow, you don’t look like a fortune teller,” she blurted before she could stop herself. Good one Buff. She flushed with embarrassment as the woman threw back her head and laughed delightedly.

“Ah, so you are the American slayer… Buffy… So refreshing to meet someone whose heart is so open and honest,” she offered as she met Buffy’s startled gaze.

“Wow, you’re good,” gasped the slayer. “I’ve only been here a minute and you could tell all that just from seeing me?”

“Well, no,” admitted Magda pouting mischievously. “I am an old acquaintance of Armando. He and I go back quite a ways. And of course the gossip of the moment is dominated by both your names. You can not go anywhere in Roma without hearing of the Immortal’s new amore the Slayer.”

“Oh, of course,” Buffy agreed, her blush deepening with her embarrassment.
She turned to the Immortal and said brightly through gritted teeth. “I thought you said she was an old friend… as in the wrinkly and half senile type, not the’oh my God she’s so young and are those real type’.” She did her best to keep her voice down as she glared at him. After all, she had already embarrassed herself enough for one day.

Ah, my little slayer, she blushes so gloriously, noted the Immortal as he took in the rosy hue of Buffy’s cheeks. It made him want to catch her up into his arms and cradle her close for the rest of her days.

Magda’s next words interrupted his thoughts and caused a fresh wave of mortification in his girlfriend.

“Ah, our Armando,” Magda offered fondly. “He is always so diplomatic, no?” She laughed softly in a way that only a former lover can. “Oh do not worry Ma petit, as I said it has been a very long time. Turning to the man in question she smiled. “Madrid 1873, was it not mon-ami? And no, they are not real” She eyed Buffy’s chest speculatively. “I could give you the surgeon’s name if you are interested?’ she offered, gesturing for both of them to be seated.

“No-No that’s fine,” Buffy replied quickly. “So 1873 huh? That would make you…”

“Much older than I look” admitted Magda, grinning cheekily at the Slayer. Taking pity on the young slayer’s mortified expression, she explained, “I am half Sidhe, Buffy, so my lifespan is much longer than most. Though not as long as our friend here, of course,” she added, glancing at the Immortal with what Buffy recognised as melancholy understanding.

“My mother was human, a young gypsy girl, and my father was Sidhe. One of the fair folk.” She sighed melodramatically. “So here I am, long of life and gifted with the sight. Though I’m afraid to admit,” she offered, tone apologetic, “I’m more seer than fortune teller, for it is not fortune I see in people’s hands but fate.” The young seer’s expression became pensive with her words as though her years weighed her down in a way that had nothing to do with age. Looking up at Buffy, she smiled suddenly and her expression changed to one of curiosity.

“Now that is enough of my life story.” The seer’s tone became brisk and business-like as she met the slayer’s gaze. “You have come here to have your fortune told, have you not? Well, come. Sit. I will do my best to give you the answers you seek.”

“Oh well, actually … I-I really don’t have that many questions,” stuttered Buffy, fear flooding back as she noticed the fortune teller’s eyes were in fact not human, that her pupils elliptical like a cats. “You know maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” she stammered as she attempted to get up from the table. Before she could even make it to her feet the half-Sidhe woman had grasped her arm gently but with a strength matching Buffy’s own. Pulling her back into her seat, she cradled Buffy’s hands in her hers, palms up resting them firmly on the table.

Buffy swallowed nervously. Glancing at Armando she tried to get his attention to let him know that she really didn’t want to be here but he, whether by design or accident, he failed to notice the glare she was sending his way.

Turning her attention back to Magda, Buffy’s eyes darted between the fortune teller’ --- correction, seer’s --- strange eyes and their joined hands. Magda’s gaze was focused on the palms of Buffy’s hands but as she watched the woman’s eyes seemed to loose focus, her gaze shifting to something only she could see.

It had grown so quiet within the tent that when Magda finally spoke Buffy nearly leapt out of her skin with fright.

“Ah,” breathed Magda, her voice as distant as her eyes. “You have lost so much… Watcher… lover… mother…and your life, all in service to this world. But you have also been given much…Strength… courage…good friends… a sister… and a love that burns for you beyond death.”

Magda’s eyes closed and she drew in a deep breath before continuing.

“I see three men in your life that you have loved with all your heart.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. That figures. Ok, standard ooglie booglie stuff so far, nothing that any cheap medium wannabe couldn’t have worked out given my age and local gossip. Both relieved and strangely disappointed Buffy waited for the standard “I see a dark stranger… and your going on a journey” spiel only to have the metaphorical stuffing knocked out of her with Madame Magda’s next words.

“The first love, lost to you” she looked up her eyes shooting open. “I see a curse... his curse. Ah yes, of course,” she nodded to herself as she looked down at their entwined hands. “He was not the one Buffy. You know this I think, in your heart.”

“Angel” whispered Buffy as the loss she’d felt at his abandonment swept over her once again, seemingly conjured by Magda’s unexpected words.

“Ah yes, Angelus. I should have remembered.” Magda replied solicitously. Looking up at Buffy she smiled compassionately. Her eyes pinned the slayer with the truth of her next words.

“He was your first taste of love, but he is not your destiny. Not like you believed him once to be. But I think, Ma cheri, you have known this yourself for a while.”

As Magda’s eyes dropped once again to study the Slayer’s palms, Buffy felt a strange sense of relief and freedom at the seer’s words. It was as though Magda had somehow given Buffy permission to admit to herself what she had shied away from ever since her resurrection.

Magda’s thumbs brushed lightly across Buffy’s palms as though she was wiping away the last of the slayer’s regrets. Her hands stilled and her grip tightened imperceptibly as she once again studied what only she could see.

“The second love I see is the love you feel for your watcher… more father to you than your own. But again I see your heart and your trust broken.
You find it hard to forgive him his trespasses… even knowing that what he did, he did for love of you.” She squeezed Buffy’s hands briefly, her expression sympathetic before continuing again. “Your heart it mourns the loss of faith, not the man. Ma petit, do not despair. He will surprise you again one day when you least expect it. Trust your heart Buffy. Your faith in him will be restored.”

As Magda’s thumbs repeated their earlier movements, Buffy felt the same sense of lightness that the Sidhe’s touch seemed to impart.

“Now we come to the third love…Hmmm. The third love… now, he is more difficult to see!”… she mused, brow furrowed in concentration. “Your heart it does not want to tell this tale. Your soul guards his memory jealously.
So much pain… so much passion… so much regret.” Head jerking up, her gaze trapped Buffy’s.

“This man you love… He was not one whose love you ever wanted, or thought you needed. I see two warriors brought together by hatred, destined to either destroy each other or be each other’s salvation. Ah, but the two of you… you danced with death from the moment you met.” The seer’s next words were filled with sorrow. “All you ever did was dance.”

The yearning Buffy thought she had managed to banish flooded back, overwhelming regret opening doors to memories so painful that for a moment she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Eyes filling with tears her mind travelled back to that first night in the alley behind the bronze. God, how she had hated his cocky grin, the way he had just come right out and told her he was going to kill her on Saturday night. All those years they had spent dancing around each other and neither had ever managed to take the other out.

Then, of course, he had gotten the chip. And even though she would never have admitted it at the time, that’s when it had started to change between them. Him first, of course, and then if she was honest… herself. Right about the time Glory took him and tortured him for the key’s identity. Then, just as she was starting to see him as something more, she’d died and come back more broken than even Spike could understand.

Magda’s voice jolted Buffy out of her melancholy memories. Trying to concentrate on what the woman was telling her, wondering if she had missed anything important, she very nearly missed something very important.

“Oh Buffy…” Magda breathed out in awe. “He was so much more than you ever expected. He loves you with every part of him… the demon within, and the soul.”

Magda looked puzzled for a moment then her eyes opened wide in sudden understanding. Glancing up to meet Buffy’s eyes, she giggled, “My you do have a thing for immortal men don’t you. William the Bloody. Such a romantic name to go with his romantic nature.”

Magda sighed. Suddenly without warning her eyes rolled back in her head and her body went rigid, her voice becoming strident.

“I see him…. There is an alley….Many demons surround him, and a dragon falls from the sky. The rain is pouring down and he is badly wounded badly…. Blood flows but the dragon, she falls. The blue warrior… helping him to his feet.
Oh my God,” Magda gasped. “There is so much pain…How he can still be standing?” she rasped brokenly, jolting out of her trance.

Turning tear filled eyes to the Slayer, she looked at Buffy in wonder before throwing the Immortal an apologetic look. When she spoke, her words were filled with surprised wonder.

”Buffy…He loves you so.” She breathed the statement out like a benediction. “He loves you so very much. Even through the pain and the grief of all that is lost there is still this bright burning spark within him that is his love for you. Ahh…to be loved by one such as him.” The seer’s voice trailed away as though she didn’t have the words to express what she was feeling.

Magda’s gaze once again travelled to Armando and she could see in his face the pain of acceptance. Whatever hopes he might have had for a future with the small blonde had been swept away by her words.

Buffy sat bewildered, her mind in turmoil over the Sidhe’s words. Everything she had said about Angel and Giles was true. And the fact that Riley didn’t even rate a mention sorta confirmed what she had realised after he took off for Belize. But it was Magda’s vision of Spike that had her stunned. That and the fact that nowhere in the whole of Magda’s disjointed ramblings had there been any mention of the vampire’s death in the Hellmouth.

As a matter of fact, she spoke only about him in the present tense, not the past. Spike’s been dead for nearly a year. So what do the dragon and the blue warrior in Magda’s vision mean? Surely, Spike would have told me that particular tale. After all, dragon fighting --- definitely bragworthy. Could it mean that maybe…..? No it couldn’t be. Could it?

A tiny spark of hope Buffy never knew she carried flared briefly… right before good old rational minded Buffy stepped in to smother it.

Oh. The portal… of course… The night I jumped…… wasn’t there a dragon that night? He probably didn’t tell me about it ‘cos of the whole being dead thing.

Crushing disappointment replaced the tiny flicker of hope that was still trying to take fire in her heart.

The Immortal had watched the hope flare then die in the slayer’s eyes. He knew that he had only to gesture and Magda would hold her tongue and Buffy would perhaps never find out the truth. But the look in her eyes would stay with him always. And he would know that the price of being with her was the cost of her happiness. As much as he wanted her, he wanted her to be happy more, so he did the only thing he could.

He spoke quickly before he had time to change his mind. “Magda tell her… Tell Buffy what your vision meant.”

The seer’s eyes darted to his, her expression questioning and full of compassion, before returning to the slayer’s grieving face.

“Buffy do you love this man? This vampire?” she questioned. Her eyes searched Buffy’s, She was reluctant to cause the girl any more grief than she had already known.

Buffy’s head shot up, eyes blazing with the strength of her emotions. Magda had her answer even before the word had passed the Slayers lips.

“Yes.”

As the seer watched, Buffy’s expression changed, new hope flaring with her answer. Magda sent a silent prayer to the Powers that be that it would not be in vain, that it was not to late.

“He’s alive.” said Magda gently. “Hurt, but alive.” She paused. “Well, as alive as a vampire can be” she offered, flippant words belying the seriousness of her tone.

“Where?” demanded Buffy, all traces of the girl buried under the determination of the slayer. The Slayer took over, while inside the girl crumbled under the twin burdens of shock and disbelief.

“I don’t know where exactly” replied Magda cautiously, the Sidhe part of her suddenly wary of the newly roused Slayer. This was no longer the sweet girl that Armando had brought to her tent. This woman in front of her was power. Light and dark perfectly blended. All of that power concentrated on one goal. To find her love.

“I saw an alley. A city. In the States. I can’t be sure exactly where,” she offered hesitantly. “though I think it was the West Coast. There was a battle. Your Spike was fighting. Demons, creatures….. Things I’ve never seen before.” She shuddered as her mind replayed the memory of the battle and the terrible creatures that had massed in numbers that seemed to her without end. “There were others with him…the blue woman and two other men. One dark, black I think. The other…? I couldn’t see his face, but I think the other wasn’t quite human.” She frowned, trying to put words to the brief glimpses of the fight that her vision had shown.

“I saw the dragon attack and the first man fell. The second man went to meet the dragon and your Spike… he leapt forward to help. And then it was over.”

She looked up into Buffy’s hazel eyes; they were brilliant green with unshed tears.

“Except for the woman,” Magda murmured. “And that was later…. After. She was wearing armour, all dark armour, and she was helping your man to his feet… though how he could even stand?” Her voice broke on that, a wave of horror overwhelming the seer as she remembered just what Spike’s fight with the dragon had cost him.

Buffy’s eye widened in shock. It was the only outward sign of her distress she showed as she turned to face the Immortal.

“Armando,” she addressed the man who was no longer her lover but perhaps still her friend. “I’m sorry I have to go… I need to be with him… I have to find him.”

Her face was calm but her eyes pleaded for understanding.

“Could you take me home? I have to tell Dawn and I need to call Willow. I’m gonna need her to do a location spell and then…then I’m going home. I’m going home to California,” she said, her voice a mixture of anger and determination.
“And when I get there, I’m going to find that stupid vampire. And when I do, I might just stake him myself.”

The Immortal noted the coldness of her tone, her stoic expression. Anger firmly in control, she was still unable to hide the joy and hope in her eyes. Watching her, knowing at that moment he’d lost her didn’t change the fact that he had never loved her more. This was the woman he knew she could be…

This was the Slayer.

“Of course, we will go at once,” he agreed, clasping and gripping her hands reassuringly. “I understand, Cara Mia. Anything you want. My plane is of course at your disposal, and any other assistance you may need.”
Bending forward, he placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. “You have but to ask,” he finished gallantly.

Buffy nodded once and turned to leave the tent as he paused to speak to Magda. The Immortal smiled before reaching out his hand to stroke the young seer’s cheek. “Do not feel bad for me, Cara. It is not your fault. Some things are meant to be.” Reaching down, he kissed Magda softly on the forehead before turning back just in time to see the flash of guilt in Buffy’s eyes.

Buffy was starting to come out of her daze, the Slayer in her receding as the girl in her was more able to cope with the shock of Spike’s continued existence. It was the Buffy part of her that saw the pain in her now ex boyfriend’s eyes.
She couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt for the way she had used him.
Because she knew now that was just what she’d been doing --- using him to hide from her pain, using him to help her not think about Spike. Now that Spike was back all she could think about was seeing him, touching him, telling him that she loved him. And instead of being pissed and unreasonable like most other men would be, the man whose heart she had just crushed offered her his private jet so she could run to the arms of another. Why is life so sucky?
Taking his hand she gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Boy Spike” she muttered “you better be worth it.”

I can’t believe I’m trading what most women would consider the man of their dreams for a rude obnoxious vampire. I must be nuts. She grinned, shaking her head in amazement. A smile curved her lips, as she pictured the look on Spike’s face if he ever found out what she’d just been thinking.

Shaking her self out of the daydream of Spike’s undoubted smugness, when and if, he ever learned what she had given up for him, Buffy remembered belatedly that there was someone else she needed to thank. Reaching forward as Armando released Magda, Buffy touched the other woman’s arm.

“Magda, I would say thanks but there isn’t enough thanks in the entire world to cover this one. So I’m just gonna say… if you ever need anything, and I do mean anything, you call. And if I can’t be there personally then half a dozen slayers will be.” She squeezed the Sidhe woman’s arm and gave her an intense look of gratitude before turning back to the Immortal, her face once again carefully blank.

“Are you okay? Are you ready for this?” he asked as they left the confines of Magda’s tent.

Buffy took a deep breath of the popcorn scented air, taking in the lights that now for some reason seemed just a little brighter. As she turned to walk toward the car park, she smiled up at him before looking away, her voice so soft that he barely caught her answer.

“Not yet. But I will be.”

Willow edged slowly towards the bed where the vampire lay.
Pushing her nausea and horror to the back of her mind, she studied his injuries.
Pity swept through her in a rush as she once again took in the state of his face and the near destruction of his arm.

She had to keep reminding herself that Spike was a
vampire and that vampires could heal from practically any injury.
Practically being the key word here.
Ok so he wasn’t dust… that was good…right.
Studying the burns that covered most of his body, she wasn’t so sure.

How the hell had he even been able to talk to her on the phone earlier, the pain alone must be beyond anything she could imagine.

God, this made Glory’s little torture stint seem like a day at the beach…
Which, come to think of it was exactly where Spike looked like he’d been.

As she examined his burns and bite’s more closely, Willow frowned.
She had seen a lot of demon bites over the years.
Sunnydale…having provided its fair share of corpses for Willow to study.
But the bite radius of Spike’s worst injuries were larger than anything the witch had ever seen.

Turning back to face Illyria she gestured to Spike’s injuries.
“What did this to him Illyria? I don’t know of anything that could do this to a vampire,” she said her expression helpless.
“If I’m going to help him Ill need to know what sort of demon could cause this sort of damage.”

Illyria moved into the room to gaze down at Spike’s unconscious form.
“It was no demon witch, a dragon did this.”

“Then the burns are from the dragon?” Willow murmured, her brow furrowing in concern.

“He is as I found him Willow Roseburg… Since it was he that I saw attempting to distract the Dragon from Angel’s attempts to kill it” Her cold gaze met Willow’s
“I assume that his damage is because of his actions… however misguided.”
Tilting her head in inquiry Illyria asked…
“Is that all you wished to know Witch? I will leave now… there are matters I must attend to and I wish to be gone from this place.”

Willow studied Illyria’s impassive features, searching for some sort of sign that Fred was in there at all.
She pondered the God Kings wish to leave.
There was not much Illyria could do to help Spike, her presence might even be a distraction, if like she thought, it came down to using magic.

Still…
There were things she might need that maybe Illyria would be able to find more easily than her.
Plus there was the whole… I’m just a big old chicken that doesn’t want to be left alone thing.
Think Willow, what would Giles do if he were here?

Seeing Illyria turn to leave, she opened her mouth and stuttered out her thoughts
“Ah… um… actually Illyria, w-would you mind if I asked you to hang around?
I-I may need some supplies… for a healing spell. If you c-could maybe find me some more bandages, or even some sheets … Well it would be a big help.” Willow finished, her voice trailing off weakly.

She cringed.
God, she thought that had sounded so much more Gilesey in my head. Biting her lip she tried to think of something else to say to fill the suddenly uncomfortable silence of the room.
Way to go Willow… stutter mode is really gonna convince a former God that you need her help.

Illyria’s expression remained impassive. Not a hint of her earlier Fred-ness coloring her features.
Willow needn’t have worried.
Her babbling didn’t even raise an eyebrow.

She was certain for a moment that the blue demon was gonna leave without even answering her request.
But instead of Illyria leaving like she was expecting, the ex God took a step closer, studying the Witch like she had never seen her before.

Ice blue eyes studied Willows own, the expression in them sending a jolt of pure terror down the witch’s spine.
“You are A child”…. stated Illyria, her voice as cold as her gaze..
“Alone and frightened. How is it Witch, that the vampire trusts his life to you?”
Face moving in close to Willows she studied her the way a snake would its prey.

“I sense no power in you… yet you traveled here through a portal.
There was power in your voice… But now there is none.
And still…. you have the courage to call upon an old one to help you with menial tasks that only a lowly slave should perform.”
Her eyes shifted away from Willows face as she turned back to study the unconscious vampire.
Her voice was strangely thoughtful as she glanced once more at the witch.

“You interest me Willow Rosenberg… And the vampire trusts you… I will concede to your request…Tell me what is it you wish me to do?

Willow’s mouth dropped open in surprise as the blue demon stepped back her head tilted, seemingly waiting for Willow to direct her.

Ok Mondo weird she thought, closing her mouth with a snap.

“Right,” she said, shaking her head to clear her thoughts.
“What I really need is something to clean Spike’s wounds with. Warm water will do, since he can’t get an infection. But I’m gonna need a lot of it. And cloth… I’ll need a lot of that. He’s still bleeding, and I need to see where it’s coming from if I’m gonna fix it”
Her eyes closed in thought, weariness trying to overtake her already drained mind.

Opening her eyes she sighed.
“Do you know if Wesley left behind any spell ingredients?
Cos what I really need are some tannis root, dammiana and coltsfoot to help his pain and to clear the fluid from his lungs.
And yeah, I know he doesn’t need working lungs, what with whole non-breathing thing. But if I don’t get his lungs and airways clear then I’m not going to be able to get him to feed, and if he doesn’t feed he’ll die.”
The Dammiana and a small spell should take care of some of his pain, but any hard spirits you find couldn’t hurt.”

Willow frowned in concentration, trying desperately to remember a conversation she’d once had with Tara about Dragons.
It was just after Buffy died the last time.
The dragon, glimpsed briefly while Glory’s portal was open, had one rainy afternoon, led them into a whole debate on the legend and myths surrounding stories of there existence.
Tara, it turned out had known a lot more about them than even Giles.
She’d showed them a book that her Mother had given her. The book supposedly contained information gathered by knight turned monk, who claimed to have lived with a dragon.

It had been along time since she’d thought of that day, and at the time she had been distracted, busily plotting to resurrect Buffy and Terrified Giles would find out. So she’d only paid fleeting attention to the book.
Tara’s words had been more a welcome distraction for Giles than of any real interest to her.
Hmm… She was sure though that she remembered something about Dragon fire?
What was it that Tara said?
Something about Dragon inflicted wounds being deadly because they were mystical, and therefore poisonous to certain supernatural beings.
She’d be a little less worried if she could only remember if vampires were one of those listed in the book.

Turning her attention back to Illyria, Willow was just in time to catch the words.
“I will return” before the former God, with one last cold look, turned and exited the room.

Turning back to re-examine Spike the Witch just shook her head in bemusement,.

Leaning in close to him she had to fight her gag reflex as the smell from his burnt flesh hit her nose.
Steeling herself for worse she gently placed her hand upon his forehead and recited a simple spell of diagnosis and healing, that Tara…. bless her heart… had taught her.

As she felt the tingle of the magic work its way through her, she took a couple of deep breaths, opening herself up to the knowledge the spell would bring of Spikes injuries.

It was worse than she could have imagined.

Besides the bites and burns and the near loss of his arm, both of Spikes legs were broken, and he was, as she had suspected, bleeding internally.
She could sense now with her other sight what the dim lighting in the room had hidden from her earlier.
Spike was blind, both his eyes were if not gone, then so severely burned that there was nearly no tissue left.

The only thing that comforted her remotely, was that his spine at least didn’t seem damaged. Which meant that he should have some sort of mobility when he eventually regained consciousness.

On the pain side that was bad, but if he’d been paralyzed there would have been no way she could save him.
He needed to eat and to do that certain muscles had to work.

She sent a silent prayer of thanks to the powers. At least now he had a chance.
Then she ran one last magical check just to make sure she hadn’t missed anything.
Sighing in relief when she found nothing further, she gathered her magic and called on the healing power of the earth to aid her in the spell.

Pouring all her energy into the healing part of the spell, Willow channeled the magic through her hands, laying them on Spikes unconscious body.

She drew and held the power for as long as she could, but after several long minutes she felt herself start to shake with the exhaustion of her efforts.
Removing her hands from Spike’s head and heart where she had placed them, she gave thanks to Gaia before releasing her grip on the magic.

God she felt so drained. Not since the Hellmouth had she felt so exhausted and that more than anything roused her concern.
With the amount of magic she had just poured into the spell, she should at least have seen some sort of change in Spike’s condition, but as far as she could see with her eyes, there had been very little.

Some of the smaller wounds did appear to have stopped bleeding but the larger ones were still slowly seeping blood into the mattress.
And the spell hadn’t seemed to help his burns at all.

She was so distracted by her thoughts that she failed to hear Illyria re-enter the room until the former God spoke.

“I have found what you requested Willow Roseburg but I warn you it will not make the difference that you wish.
The vampire was struck down by the wurm…. what you call a Dragon and it has long been known that the fire of a dragon burns until it consumes.
Its teeth and claws secrete a fluid that causes the victim, should they survive, to slowly bleed to death.
There is no magic that I know of that can counteract its affects” Illyria stated, her tone and face without expression.
“The vampire though, believes that you will be able to help him, so I did as he requested and summoned you here.
It is only now seeing the extent of your power that I fear he is mistaken…
I, who once bent time to my will…who was old when this earth was young, not even my power could heal these wounds.”
The former God King paused; though her expression was outwardly blank, deep within her eyes Willow thought she detected a flicker of something?
“I fail to see how you can do this thing when all before you have tried and failed”.

Before Willow could even open her mouth to agree to or refute the demons statement Illyria spoke again.

“Still, the shell that I now inhabit has memories that tell me that you have done the impossible before… so I will abide.
I will stay until it is finished…One way… or the other.”

Willow blinked rapidly, her tired brain trying valiantly to absorb everything Illyria had just delivered in her strangely flat tone.

If what Illyria said was true then….No, she refused to believe it.
She was a Scooby, they didn’t give up.
They researched and fought, and sometimes they died, but they did not give up…Not ever.

The book! She needed the book that Tara had shown her. There had to be something in the book that could help Spike.

If only she could remember what it said about counteracting dragon magic…but it was so long ago. And the book was buried in Sunnydale with all the other memento’s she’d kept of her dead love.

Think Willow think…

Ok I can’t remember the details of the book and the book is lost, so what do I do next? She asked herself.

A location spell?

Yeah that could work she mused.
But then how to get the book once she pinpointed it?

Of course she thought…
God I’m stupid… a finders keeper spell. A simple finder’s keeper spell should do the trick.

She would use her magic to call the book to her, and because of her previous connection to it’s owner she had a better than good chance that it would work.
Could it be that simple?

I’ll make it that simple. Determination flowed through her body, bringing a burst of newfound energy with it.


First things first.

She stepped back to Spike’s bedside and pondered where to start the horrific task of cleaning and binding his wounds.

“Illyria.” Addressing the demon still standing in the doorway, she tossed a glance over her shoulder at her “He needs blood, lots of it… preferably Human, can you get me some?

You could go to the hospital?” She offered thoughtfully. Trying not to think about how out of place Illyria would look entering a hospital.

Turning back to Spike she continued to clean the blood from the worst of the bites, binding them as tight as she dared.

“No maybe not” she concluded regretfully, taking another appraising look at the demon that still stood in the doorway..
“Somehow with you being all demony like you are, I don’t think the hospital is an option.”
God, where else could I send her for blood this time of night.

A softly spoken Texan drawl interrupted her thoughts.

“Don’t worry Willow I’ll get the blood, though even looking like this I still don’t think the hospital is a good choice.”

At the sound of the voice Willows blood froze, head whipping around so fast that she practically gave herself whiplash.

There standing in the doorway, an amused expression on her face stood Fred.

“What the? How? Who? Oh my God” Willow gasped, taking in the sight of her friend’s sweet face.
The face in question suddenly hardened and the voice of Illyria spoke through Fred’s mouth.

“I have manipulated this shells physical appearance as I did for Wesley.
But I do this in his name and only because he would have wished it for the vampire.
Do not be fooled witch… Winifred Burkle is gone… this façade merely a means to an end.
I will go to the labs at Wolfram and Hart…If there is anyone left alive they will not question me in this form. Do what you can for him… I will return.”

Turning back as she left the room her eyes sought Willow’s and just for a moment Willow could heave sworn she saw pleading in the others.

Staring blankly at the doorway; Willows mind was whirled with confusion. Shaking her head she told herself now was not the time to be pondering Fred’s fate…She would think about that later, after she had helped Spike.

Leaning forward she was so busy concentrating on cleaning the blood and burnt skin from around the vampires eyes that at first when he moaned her name she nearly missed it.

“R-Red? Willow… Is that you?”

She gasped, pulling her hand back in fright.
“S-Spike… Oh goddess you’re awake.”

“Hey Red” he rasped out.
“You came… wasn’t sure you would,” he rumbled, voice tight with an emotion that Willow knew was only partly the pain he must be feeling.

“Oh Spike… of course I came,” she whispered.
“You saved us all… Did you really think I would leave you to die again?”

Willow felt tears well in her eyes as she watched his mouth twist into what she assumed was a grimace of pain.
However, with the damage… it could just as easily have been a smile.

Hearing his hiss of pain, as the burns on his face cracked and split with his expression, she leaned in and as gently as possible stroked his good hand comfortingly.

“Don’t try to talk Spike, you’ll only hurt yourself. I’ve done a spell to help with the healing and as soon as Illyria gets back with the blood I’ll make you a potion to help with the pain.
Then you have to rest. But before that I’m going to have to finish cleaning these wounds… and It’s probably going to hurt…. A lot.
I’m sorry Spike, but I need to see how bad they are before I can work on making them better.”
Oh Goddess, Buffy is going to be so happy to see you…. And Dawn…Well Dawn took your death really hard. I can’t wait to tell them that your back…”

His harsh voice interrupted her exited chatter.
“You Bloody can’t tell them Red…Not any of them… Promise Willow.
Promise me you won’t tell any of them, especially Buffy and Dawn.”

“But…Spike, Why? They would be…”

His voice was rough with pain and desperation, cutting Willows questions off before she had a chance to finish.


“They don’t need to know about this Witch…I’m dead to them…. have been for a while.
Don’t want them feelin sorry f’me… couldn’t deal with that, not after everything…
I swear Willow if you tell them Ill find a way to stake myself before they even set foot in LA.
Promise me Red… Promise that you won’t tell them, or the bloody watcher”, he pleaded, his voice becoming a desperate gasp of agony.

The cost of his words was clearly visible on his pain-wracked form.

Willow didn’t know what to think, what to do.

She accepted that he was for some reason completely serious about what he was saying; just as she knew, his threat to kill himself was not an idle one.

However, if she agreed to his demand then she would not only have to lie to the others about her whereabouts but deliberately conceal Spike’s un undead status and more than likely use her magic to hide his presence from Buffy.

She wasn’t stupid, there was no way the council would ignore a mystical battle as big as the one that had just been fought here in LA.
Buffy would undoubtedly be heading here within the next few days.
The council and Giles, had probably already been alerted to the fact that Angel and Wolfram and Hart were behind the latest supernatural upheaval.
And they of course would contact Buffy and let her know.
After all it did involve her one time love.

Willows brain of course jumped to the next logical step…

If anyone besides Illyria had witnessed Spike’s participation in the battle then Buffy would most probably put two and two together and come searching for him.
So keeping him alive meant keeping him hidden… which meant really BIG magic on her part. And a whole heap of that thing she sucked at… Lying. Shit!


All these thoughts went through Willows mind in the seconds it took for Spike to find his breath again and somehow also the strength to clasp her arm with his remaining good hand.
His grip was alarmingly weak but the Witch could feel the pain and desperation coursing through his touch.

“Willow, in the name of the Goddess promise me you won't tell her…
Promise me... or kill me now… I swear Red If you don’t give me your word I’m as good as dead.”

His voice was harsh, the tone pleading, but it was the deep sorrow underlying it that finally convinced Willow that he meant every word.

“Ok Spike” she conceded “I don’t understand why you wont let me tell Buffy” she continued, tone grim.
“But I’ll do what you ask for now…. No, don’t thank me yet” she warned as she felt his hand relax.

“I will do what you ask… but only until you are fully healed.
After that, Spike… all bets are off.
I owe you… We owe you, but Buffy is my friend and she’s already grieved enough.
I won’t have her grieving for a man that obviously doesn’t want to see her.”

The last was said far more harshly than Willow would have liked.
But it hurt her to realize if he had been with Angel during the battle that Spike had obviously been back for months.


And that meant that for whatever reason he had kept his presence a secret from Buffy.
Why she couldn’t begin to guess… unless? Could Spike finally be over the slayer he had died for?

Somehow, that thought tilted Willows world in a way she never expected.
Spike Loved Buffy as sure as the sun rose in the morning. For that to have changed…Well she was pissed if she was honest…Really pissed.
Especially how she was the only one that had seen (apart from Dawn) just how much the slayer had grieved for the vampire.
Now he was saying that even though this might be Buffy’s last chance to see him… he didn’t want her to.

Ok concentrate Will she thought trying to calm her sudden anger.
No need to get angry.
Just get on with fixing him so Buffy can kill him, when she finds out that he was back and didn’t tell her.

“Spike” she said remorsefully, attempting to control her emotions.
“Spike I’m sorry… I’m just really confused right now… I need some time to think,” she offered trying to curb her doubts and worry.
“But I give you my word on the Goddesses name that I won’t tell anyone about you.
At least until you are healed enough to try to convince me otherwise.
Is that Ok?” she asked, tentatively brushing the back of his hand that still clasped her arm.

“It’ll do Red… For now.”

At those few last pained words, Willow was relieved to see unconsciousness claim the vampire.
Even a few more words from the injured vampire and Willow didn’t think she could have stopped herself from telling him just how much Buffy needed to know he was alive.
And it, as much as she wished otherwise, wasn’t her place to play cupid to the vampire and the Sayer.

Maybe when he was better she could think of some way to reunite the two, without betraying either of their trust.
But at the moment it was probably best if she concentrated on saving him before giving Buffy any false hope.
Plus there was the little matter of his not wanting to see Buffy or Dawn.
Hmm… she would have to think on that… Just not now.

TBC

So What do you think?

The Immortals car pulled up in front of Buffy’s apartment, she was out and half way up the stairs before he had even turned off the ignition.

When he entered her apartment moments later, she was already on the phone trying to reach Willow.
With a frustrated grunt, she hung up the phone and went in search of Dawn.

“Dawnie, Where are you” she called heading towards the younger girls bedroom.

“In the kitchen Buffy.”

The Immortal touched her arm, indicating that he would wait in the living room for her while she talked to her sister.
Buffy flashed him a quick look of gratitude then braced herself for the coming conversation.

When she entered the kitchen, her sombre mood vanished, replaced by a sudden fit of the giggles.

Andrew and Dawn had been attempting to cook again. The evidence of their labors, spread from one end of the kitchen to the other.
Funnier than the mess, was the fact that Andrew himself, and Dawn to a lesser degree, seemed to have more of the ingredients on themselves than on the work surfaces.
Andrew looked like someone had dipped him in the flour and Dawn had egg running down her cheek

“I’ve heard of being caught with egg on your face, but Dawnie C’mon…”

Buffy tried to control her mirth but the indignant looks on both Dawn and Andrew’s faces were just too much for her.
She burst into full-throated laughter, which was only made worse by Dawn’s furious glare.

“Oh God, if you two could just see yourselves” She sniggered.
“You look like you battled the shake and bake monster… and lost”

Trying to get herself under control, she turned her attention to the object of their labor, something unrecognizable bubbling in a pot behind them.

“Eww, I’m not even going to ask!” Wrinkling her nose with disgust, she turned her attention back to the still glowering cooks.

“Ok guys, truce. We will discuss the whole 'no more cooking thing' later.
I have something really important I need to tell you and I don’t have time to answer questions, so shut up and listen till I’m finished… OK?”

The two would-be cooks glanced at each other, before turning back and with a very eerie synchronistic shrug, nodded.

Note to self, thought Buffy. Dawn and Andrew spend 'way to much time together.

Now that she was actually about to tell Dawn about Spike, she didn’t quite know where to start.
She opted for the stalling rout, quizzing Dawn about Willows whereabouts.

“Hey Dawnie, when Giles called did he mention anything about Willow leaving to help the coven, and how long she was gonna be?
Cos I just rang there and Ken said that she’d left sometime last night, and she wasn’t sure when she’d be back.”

Dawn looked puzzled.
“I dunno Buff, I don’t think he mentioned anything but maybe he called before Willow told him. Anyway, if it’s important I’m sure he’ll call and let us know.
Why, is something up?” she inquired, a gleam of excitement in her eyes at the prospect of some possible slayer related business.

“Yes and No Dawnie” Buffy replied carefully, still stalling.
“I need to ask Will’s to do a little location spell… but if she’s not there?”

“Ooh Ooh I can do it” squeaked Dawn excitedly.
Willow lent me this book and I’ve seen her do it like a gazillion times…Please please please c’mon. I promise I can do it, just give me a chance” she begged, jumping up and down on the spot in anticipation.


“I dunno” Buffy eyed her younger sister sceptically.
“I know we agreed that Will could teach you some spells, but this one has a habit of going a little wonky unless done right.
And you do remember that whole 'incident' with the coffee table in Giles office!”

Dawn flashed her a sheepish grin.
“Yeah, but that was completely different, I just used one wrong ingredient.
C’mon” she whined rolling her eyes. “How was I to know that Devils claw and Devil’s shoestring would be so different. Anyway the table was only invisible for an hour… it came back!”

“That is so not the point Dawnie,” she scolded “Three people tripped over it, and lets not forget Giles glasses were on it at the time” she finished, trying hard to keep a straight face.

“Yeah Well coulda happened to anyone, and besides” Dawn added brightening“. That was a protection spell, this is a location spell…Completely different dealy.
Anyway, just tell me what it is you need to locate and if I don’t think I can do it we’ll wait for Willow to get back, or we could ask Giles to help.”

“No!… No Giles. I don’t want you to tell Giles anything about what were doing…. at least not until I know where…”
She paused seeing the sudden look of suspicion on her sister’s face.

“Look Dawnie just trust me, this has to stay between us three… Ok?”

“O-Ok Buffy, but your gonna have to tell me what it is you want me to find before I can do the spell?”

Dawn, seeing the stricken look on her sisters face, frowned, her excitement over the spell forgotten.
What the frick could Buffy want to find that would make her look so upset.
“Buffy what is it?” she asked gently.

Meanwhile Andrew, who had been busy trying to clean up and eavesdrop at the same time, paused, fingers wrapped around the handle of the pot containing their earlier attempt at dinner. Andrew (unfortunately for him) chose that moment to glance at Buffy just as she answered Dawn’s question.

“Spike… He’s alive.”

“Yowww” hollered Andrew. The former nerd jerked in surprise, upending the contents of the pot. The still hot contents went everywhere, most of it on Andrew.


It wasn’t until they had gotten Andrew calmed down and his burns bandaged that Buffy even had a chance to think about the boy’s reaction.

That was when the suspicion set in.

Ok, so he was understandably startled by her words, yes, she mused. But even for Andrew the reaction seemed pretty extreme. Eying him thoughtfully, she tried to catch his eye.

After studying him intently, she was quick to note that he was uneasy and on edge, fidgety but uncharacteristically quiet while Dawn examined and dressed the burn.
The very telling lack of whining and the quick glances he kept darting at her were making Buffy’s crap antenna wobble.

Dawn of course, had been distracted by Andrews’s initial shriek, but now the boy was bandaged her mind returned to her sisters shocking statement.

She gnawed on her lip as she watched Buffy, watching Andrew.

Buffy was looking thoughtful, and it was then that she finally noticed Andrew doing the whole avoidy thing.
He had the same look he got on his face whenever Dawn caught him doing something sneaky.
Like the time she caught him reading Buffy’s diary.
Hmm… maybe she shouldn’t mention that, after all it wouldn’t do if Buffy found a better hiding place.
Not that she would ever read it!

“Ok Andrew, spill! What do you know?” demanded Dawn, glaring at him when he wouldn’t meet her eyes.
Reaching over, she grabbed the former nerd by the ear and twisted hard.

Andrew predictably, shrieked like a girl before reaching up to bat Dawns hand away.

“Hey, stop that I’m injured” he whined plaintively “Jeeze Dawn what’s with the uber bossiness, I didn’t do anything” he muttered, trying to edge away from the glaring younger Summers.

Dawn looked at her sister and Buffy gave a slight nod.
That was enough for Dawn.
Staring hard into his face, she reached for him and twisted his ear even harder. Her tighter grip, thwarted his attempts to wriggle free.

“I’m only asking you this once Andrew and then I’ll let Buffy ask the next question.
Spike… What do you know?”

For a beat, Andrew looked mutinous. Nevertheless, under the combined stare of the slayer and the ex key he folded like a deck of cards.

“Ok, ok, all right all ready… I’ll tell you, just let the ear go.”

Dawn smirked in satisfaction. Releasing his ear, she folded her arms across her chest and waited for his confession.

It was funny she mused, she should have been upset or surprised at her sisters words but the only thoughts that had come to mind at the time was…of course he is… and its about time.
Weird she knew, and later she would be sure to discuss it with Buffy, but it somehow seemed like she had known that the vampire wasn’t really gone… like she could still feel him out there in the world… somewhere.

Mind you, that didn’t mean when she saw him that she wasn’t gonna kick his ass for scaring them.
Eying her sister, she had a feeling she might have to get in line, Buffy’s expression growing darker as Andrew spilled his guts.


The story was that apparently 19 days after the Hellmouth collapsed Spike was back as a ghost, appearing in Angel’s office in the middle of a meeting.
Much to both Angel’s and Spike’s disgust, it was discovered that he was tied to Wolfram and hart, and unable to leave LA.
When he was eventually all touchy feely again, he then decided for some reason that Buffy didn’t need him, and she probably wouldn’t want to see him any way.
(Andrew had no answer for that particular doozie)

The upshot of the whole thing… he decided staying in LA and working with Angel, however grudgingly his assistance was accepted, was better than traipsing across Europe looking for the slayer.

Buffy was fuming….
Dawn could practically see the steam coming out of her ears, and she was pretty sure she had heard the word Dead and vampire muttered more than a few times during Andrews little infomercial.

But it wasn’t till Andrew told her about Spike and Angel’s trip to Rome that she finally flipped her lid.

“They fucking did what!...Twice!...You told them What!”

It took them another ten minutes to get Andrew to stop crying, and another 15 before his nose stopped bleeding, but Dawn consoled herself with the fact that.. Hey, at least he was still in one piece.

When Buffy went in to the other room to quiz her ex boyfriend on his part in the whole fiasco, Dawn took the opportunity to ask a few additional questions that her sister had overlooked, understandably distracted by her attempt to kill the former nerd.

“Ok you big momma’s boy, the bleeding has stopped for now, and Buffy isn’t here.
You’re going to tell me everything you observed with that sneaky little brain of yours... Cos I wanna know what the frick Spike is thinking, not tracking us down, never mind working for a man he refers to as the Great Poofy Brooding One.”

Andrew then explained about the whole Dana cutting of his arms thing. When Dawn asked again, he was quick to reassure her that though he really didn’t know for sure why Spike hadn’t sought them out… other than the two times in Rome.
He was still totally sure Spike was just as in love with Buffy as he had been in Sunnydale.

The bottom line seemed to be that after seeing her with the Immortal at a local club, and hearing Andrew’s little speech, he had decided that he’d made the right decision.
Though Andrew did say that Spike had made the comment that being with the Immortal was not exactly the normal life he had wanted for her, but then again who was he to judge. If she was happy… well that’s all he had ever wanted for her.
Ok, Andrew admitted. So he hadn’t exactly put it in those words… but Andrew said he was too much of a gentleman to repeat Spike’s exact words.



The Immortal had been somewhat startled to see Buffy heading his way in full battle mode, and even more shocked when she reached down and slapped him.
Hard!

“You lying Bastard! You fucking knew how I felt about him and you didn’t tell me!”

“Wait” he threw his arm up in a gesture both of surrender and denial. “Wait Buffy, I do not know what it is that you are saying” his expression was both confused and shocked.
“Calm down caro mia, tell me why you are so angry?”

Grabbing her by both wrists to prevent further violence to his person, he pulled her on to the couch and tried to make some sort of sense out of what she was saying.

Five minutes later, she had calmed down enough for him to understand that she thought he had deliberately gotten rid of Spike and Angel when they had come to Rome to pick up some Demon head?

It did not take him long, after finding out that Wolfram and Hart were behind sending them, to realize that All of them had been set up.
He had explained his past run ins with Angelus and Spike months earlier, so he didn’t need to try to hard to convince her that he had had no Idea that either of the vampires were in Rome. And that he knew absolutely nothing about a head, or a visit to Buffy’s apartment, never mind trying to blow the two of them up.

It hurt him a little to think that Buffy’s trust in him was so easily breached, but after asking her a few questions about the family whose head they had come to retrieve, he managed to piece it together.

Somebody was very determined that Buffy, Angel, and Spike not have any reason to meet.

By giving the vampires the impression that the Immortal was behind the whole thing, and what’s more was now Buffy’s new love, they had done a neat job of making sure that the slayer would be the last one called upon should they ever need help.

Of course, the rumors that Giles had heard about the law firm that Angel was currently running, made it doubly unlikely that Buffy would be approaching Angel for any help in the future either, the whole Dana incident notwithstanding.

Someone at Wolfram and Hart, had done there very best to make sure that all contact between the Scoobies and the LA crew was thoroughly severed.
Buffy realized then, that for some of Angel’s crew it was probably already too late.

Up until now, she had only been thinking about Spike and whether she would kill him or kiss him when she saw him.
However, with the Immortals words it suddenly hit her that there was a distinct possibility that Angel and the others were dead.

She knew deep down in her heart that she didn’t love Angel anymore… not like she had.
But that didn’t stop the knife like pain at the thought of his death.
She couldn’t begin to imagine a world where Angel wasn’t out there somewhere, fighting the same battles she did.

Then there was Cordelia. The last she had heard was that she was still in a coma.
God, she had grated on Buffy’s last nerve over the years, but for Queen C to actually be gone.

Oh, God…that probably meant that Wesley was dead as well.
Good old stuffy Wes, who come to think of it, had been far from the wimp she remembered the last time she’d seen him.
Another Watcher gone she thought sadly.

It seemed somehow cruel that he’d survived the firsts attack on the council, only to be killed less than two years later… and probably by the institution employing him.

She hadn’t really known the others in Angel’s crew, but Willow had spoken fondly of Fred and Gun, and told Buffy about Lorne and his empathic abilities.

These people had all been Angel’s family for the last few years, and Buffy found herself hoping that Spike wasn’t the only one to survive what had gone down in LA.


She was so lost in her thoughts it took her a moment to realize that Armando was still holding her hands, and had been trying to get her attention for the last couple of minutes.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry Armando… I totally jumped to the wrong conclusion.
Can you ever forgive me?”

Her tone was so filled with remorse that the Immortal found himself smiling at the petite blond, quickly reassuring her that it was totally understandable, considering the lengths Wolfram and Heart had gone too to set them up.

Squeezing her hands gently, he informed her that while she had been in the kitchen with her sister and Andrew, he had made all the arrangements for her flight to LA.

Buffy, upon hearing his kind words, cringed with guilt, ashamed that she had doubted this man who obviously had only her best interests at heart.

“What can I say Armando, a world of sorry wont come close to being enough of an apology for the way I treated you… I don’t deserve to have someone so good in my life.”
Her eyes welled up with tears as she looked into his concerned ones, once again wondering if there was something wrong with her for not being able to love this man.

“Ah… but that is life Caro… Sometimes you win and sometimes you loose”…he smiled.
“The gift of your companionship and friendship is something that I will treasure always. I would not be true to you or myself if I kept you from what you truly want.”
He shrugged. “So we will be just good friends. Yes? And I will be happy that my friend is happy.”

Buffy, humbled by his words, was touched that he cared more for her happiness, than his own.
Though he had never put what he felt for her into words, she had seen the depth of his feelings in his eyes when he looked at her.
To be fair, she had never promised him more than she had given. He had known right from the start that her heart belonged to a dead man, and that it would be a long time, if ever, before she was ready to make peace with her loss.

But still, his care for her touched her deeply.
She promised herself that in the days to come, she would try to be worthy of his friendship by being as caring and honest with the people in her life as he had been with her.

Boy, a certain bleached blond was in for one hell of a shock when she saw him.
She was going to make very sure that he believed every single word that came out of her mouth, even if he didn’t return her feelings.

Even, if he doesn’t love me anymore.

It didn’t matter anymore, that loving someone meant opening yourself to hurt. And it didn’t matter that he probably didn’t love her anymore.
All that mattered was letting him know that she loved him, that she would be there for him, no matter what his decision… even if all she could ever be to him was a friend.

My God I’m finally baked she thought, with a touch of awed surprise.
Now I just have to let him know my cookies are ready to be eaten.

Blushing at the somewhat inappropriate and naughty mental picture that the thought of Spike eating anything of hers caused, she turned her attention back to the Immortal and pulled him into a fierce slayer worthy hug.

“Ok so let’s do it” she said, releasing him as hazel eyes met brown.

“Dawn” she yelled. “Get packed we’re going to the airport.”

“All done” chirped Dawn, entering the living room, overnight bag slung over one shoulder.

“Wow that was fast” said Buffy with a wide grin at her sisters’ sudden take charge attitude.

“Na not really… after Sunnydale I sorta figured that I should be prepared, so I put an emergency kit together in case we ever had to go somewhere in a hurry.
Oh yeah… your case is in the hall, and don’t worry I thought of everything.”

“Ok, so now I know what happened to my blue sweater” quipped Buffy; grateful understanding and relief in her voice and gaze.

Turning back to the Immortal, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze.


“Would you mind Armando? I mean you’ve already done so much… could you drive us to the airport?”

“Of course Buffy I would not have it any other way,
Besides, I must make sure you get there in the whole piece.”

The teasing in his voice was light but Buffy could sense his worry under it.

She frowned in mock irritation, knowing it was his worry over Wolfram and Hart’s plans that had him so concerned, but determined to lighten both their moods.

“I hope that wasn’t a dig at my driving skills” she said pouting indignantly.
“Cos the police did say that that thing with the tour bus wasn’t strictly my fault, ya know!”
She gave him a cheeky grin before turning to talk to her sister.

“So Dawnie what did you do with Andrew? Please tell me there was rope and a gag involved” she inquired hopefully.

Dawn giggled as she got a rather vivid mental picture of Andrew, bound, tied, and gagged, just like a thanksgiving turkey… Ok, so maybe less of the gag, but still pretty funny if you thought about it.

“No the whole bondage thing... while fun... not really of the necessary.
Oooh, though I did threaten him,” she offered helpfully.
Her eyes twinkling, she smiled at her sisters snicker before continuing, her expression sobering.
“He knows that if he breathes even a word to Giles or any of the others he’s dead meat… well not him exactly,” she confessed with an evil smile.
“Just his three most prised star wars collectibles… also part of my emergency package.”

“God, your evil” offered Buffy admiringly “My baby sister is all grown up” she finished with a sigh.

Dawn just rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the small smug smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“Ok people… to the Airport” ordered Buffy. Full slayer command mode engaged.
Her thoughts again turning to Spike, and what she might find in Los Angeles.

TBC...

Willow was worried, and the fact that she was worried again so soon after the last time… Well that in it’s self was a worry.

She had just finished putting the ingredients together for the spell to locate Tara’s book, when her mobile trilled urgently.
The strains of home on the range letting her know that it was Kennedy calling.
She answered the phone with some small amount of trepidation, knowing in advance that it was time for the first of many lies, if she was to keep her word to Spike.


Kennedy of course had been sweet and totally clueless.
All with the I miss you and I love you and the when are you coming home.
Even mentioning casually that Buffy had called, asking her to get Will to call her back as soon as possible

No, Kennedy didn’t know what she wanted, but she figured from the urgency in Buffy’s voice that it must be something important… and did Willow want to call her, or should she give Buffy Will’s new cell number if she called again.

Willow told her not to worry, she’d give Buffy a call as soon as she was free, and not to bother with the new number because she would probably be out of range for the next few days.

“Yes in Devon, working on some really heavy healing magic” offered Willow, crossing her fingers against the lie.
Well half lie, she consoled herself, the healing part was true.
With relief, she said her goodbyes to her girlfriend, after reassuring her that she would see her in a couple of days.

“Well I think I’ve brought us some time,” she murmured to the unconscious vampire.
It’s a good thing I just got a new cell and number, or Buffy would have contacted me by now, she thought with relief.
Now all she had to worry about was Buffy contacting the coven, because if she did that then both her and Spike were screwed.

Ok, not gonna think about that, she told herself sternly.
First, concentrate on the spell to get the book, fix Spike, and then worry about Buffy later.

Just as she was getting the last of the ingredients ready for the finders keepers spell, Illyria entered the room carrying a small portable refrigerator, like the kind used in classrooms or labs.

“I have brought the blood as you requested Witch.
I will go now… the stabilization of this shells former image has depleted me.
Do not disturb me again tonight, Willow Rosenberg” Illyria ordered, her voice full of threat.
“Or” she added “you will come to rue the day you were born.”

Without another word, the former God King placed the refrigerator on the floor by the side table, turning and leaving the room without even a backward glance.

“O… Kaaay! Well that was interesting,” muttered Willow.
“And let’s not forget disturbing and kinda rude.” moving forward she kneeled to check the contents of Illyria’s burden.

Wow, she thought, checking the various labels on the bags of blood in the storage unit.
After checking twice, she determined that she had at least 23 human, 14 demon, 10 bovine, 12 swine, and strangely enough 2 that were labeled otter?
Huh? Oh well each to there own. She gave a mental shrug before double-checking the blood supplies.
Sorting through the human, she worked out that most of it must have come from employees at Wolfram and Hart, each bag was marked with a persons name and the date of collection, as well as the actual blood type.

I must remember to ask Illyria why they had employee blood in the lab, she wondered vaguely. Mentally comparing and cataloging the demon blood to see if any was vamp compatible, she was on her fifth bag of something called a horexion demon, and trying desperately to banish the mental picture that she kept getting with the name, when she hit the jackpot.


She reached to pick up the sixth bag and nearly dropped it in surprise upon seeing the carefully labeled name.
Angel… Vampire.

Ok now we’re cookin with gas, she thought gleefully.
God that was lame, Ok girl note to self, too much late night cable screws with the quipping.
Giving herself a mental eye roll she returned to the sorting.

Right… so she had Angels blood? Sire’s blood, to be more precise.
And didn’t she remember Spike telling her that the next best thing to Slayers blood, was sire’s?
Now the only problem was should she give it to him now, in the hope that it would help him more than the human… or should she conserve it until she was sure that it would help.

Hmm… what to do?
Putting the blood aside for the moment, she inspected the remaining contents of the refrigerator, hoping to find something else that might stave off the immediacy of her decision.

She was disappointed to find that the rest of the demon blood was mostly useless for her needs, and the one pack of Angels seemed to be all there was.

Ok, so at the end of the day I have 45 bags of usable animal and human and 5 usable demon types.
That leaves six I can’t categorize and if Spike is to be believed one bag of vampire heal all.

“Ok so I can’t afford to waste Angel’s blood,” she muttered to herself.
So maybe the best thing to do would be to mix a little of it with the human just to give the human a boost!
If I do that and include the herbs and other stuff Illyria found downstairs then at least I’ll have some Idea of whether I need to give him more the next time.
Relieved that she had at least decided on some sort of course of action she turned to the odd assortment of stuff provided by the blue demon.

Sorting through the contents that Illyria had brought up earlier she found the herbs she had requested along with a few others that she hadn’t thought of at the time but were defiantly an added bonus.

Whoa, she thought, someone round here was pretty proficient in the magic department. Some of the herbs in the pile were really obscure and a few of them shockingly expensive..

Oh well, who was she to look a gift horse in the mouth... And hey! came the irrelevant thought… there goes the ode to late night cable again.
I really have to socialize more when I get back home… my pop culture quips are now outdated and lame.

She giggled a little at her thoughts, the surreal ness of her situation hitting home.
Here she was holed up in a spooky old hotel, hiding out from her friends and lover, to heal a former evil vampire with only the help of a former God… and she was berating herself cos her mental quips were dated.

Wow! It’s been a long day, she marveled, shaking her head ruefully.
Ok here goes she thought, adding the last ingredient, Angel’s blood.

She used a syringe to draw off a very small amount of the potentially precious fluid and carefully dripped it into the bowl with the other ingredients.
Using her athame to mix the contents she recited a quick prayer to the goddess, asking for her blessing before turning to the still unconscious vampire.

“Wakey wakey Spike…. time to drink your medicine” she singsonged, more than a little groggy herself from the combination of fumes and magic coming from the potion she held.

Spike’s brow twitched briefly, before smoothing out again just as quickly.
Tipping the potion towards him so it was under his nose, she called his name again, urging him to drink.

Again, his brow rippled as though his game face was just below the surface, but he either didn’t have the energy to sustain it or couldn’t raise his head enough to be able to drink.
Not wanting to waste the potion Willow frowned for a moment before inspiration struck.

Putting the potion carefully to the side, she found her bag and started searching its contents.

“Ah ha” she crowed, triumphantly pulling a straw from her bag.
“Now who’s silly because she prefers bendy to straight.
Hmm Freudian much there Will?” she muttered to herself, once again rolling her metaphorical eyes.
She unwrapped the straw, stuck it in the potion and returned to the vampire’s bedside.
Reaching down she carefully placed her hand under the base of his neck.

“C’mon Spike, you have to wake up and drink this”, she urged, tilting the straw so it brushed his lips.

This time his demon must have caught the scent of the blood. To her relief he parted his ravaged lips and took the straw in his mouth.
He sipped for several minutes, and Willow couldn’t help be reminded of all the time’s they had fed him in a similar fashion when he was a “guest’’ in Giles bathtub.

Course, back then he had been just an evil vampire that they were keeping alive for information, where now he was a… a… Well?…. a not so evil vampire that had saved the world.

Ok, so she had to admit it, somewhere along the way Spike had become if not a friend then someone that was part of all their lives.
And now he was back when he should be dust and she found herself with the desperate need to keep him that way.
As he drank from the straw, Willow started thinking of exactly what his being back might mean to Buffy and Dawn.


Dawn certainly missed him more than anyone would have expected.
She had been overwhelmed with guilt in the months after Sunnydale’s collapse.
Guilt, that she had let him die without telling him she had forgiven him for the attack on Buffy, and his subsequent leaving of herself .
At first Dawns, sorrow was so overwhelming that Willow had failed to notice her sisters quieter grieving.

Then came the night she had gone to the rooftop.

It was in one of the apartment buildings they had been staying in, in some city whose name she couldn’t remember.
She had gone up for a little quiet time, to get away from the noise and confusion that was the currant gaggle of newbie slayers.

Stepping out on to the roof top she had sighed in relief at the quiet of the early evening, the distant sound of traffic below in the street a soothing rhythm that made her feel as if she was miles from people, rather than meters.

It was not until she had moved closer to the railing at the edge of the roof that she had realized she wasn’t alone.

As she was about to retreat and leave the unknown person to there solitary pursuits, her ears heard what she had missed over the lambent sound of the traffic.
Sobbing… quiet desperate heart breaking sobbing… very familiar sobbing.

“Buffy?” she had inquired her voice hesitant but concerned.
“What’s wrong Buffy? Is there anything I can do?”
Moving forward she placed her hand on the slayers back moving it in small soothing circles as the blond continued to sob in a way that Willow had never heard from her, not in seven years on the Hellmouth… not even after Angel.

“Please Buffy” Willow entreated, growing concerned when her friend didn’t or couldn’t answer her. She stiffened with a sudden terrible thought.
“Oh Goddess Buffy what’s happened?… is something wrong with Dawn?” gasping fearfully she wracked her brains for a reason that could possibly cause the depth of sorrow her friend was exhibiting.

Instead of the answer she was dreading her friend managed to blurt out one word through her choked sob’s.
And admittedly it was the last one that Willow had expected.

“Spike!”

Willows brow furrowed in confusion before suddenly clearing.

Buffy was grieving for the vampire that had loved her… grieving for the man that had saved the world.
And it only just now dawned on her that her friend had probably been doing this ever since they left Sunnydale.

Anger at her self, and the others overwhelmed her, as she realized that Buffy had been hiding her grief for the vampire, just as she had once hid their damaged relationship.
And probably for the same reasons.

“It’s Ok Buffy” Willow offered, shame coating her tone and demeanor.
“It’s ok to miss him… he was… was a good friend and he loved you and Dawn.
He saved us all Buffy… he proved that he was better than any of us could have ever believed.
“But then” she said wryly “he always was different” remembering all the times over the years that Spike had done the unexpected.

“You know I never really told anyone” she confessed, “but when he first got the chip and came to the dorm to kill you…
“Yes well… off topic” she said flushing, as Buffy if possible sobbed even harder.
“The point is… even though he was in pain and angry as hell... and let’s not forget evil” she said with a grimace, “he still took a moment to comfort me over the fact that Oz had left.
You wanna know something funny, Buffy?
Whenever I think of Spike, I hardly ever remember the big bad vamp that wanted to kill us all.
I just remember all the times he was there when we needed him, like the way he punched Tara that time her dad tried to take her away… and the way he was tortured when he refused to tell Glory the key’s identity.
But the thing that I remember the most vividly” admitted Willow closing her eyes as she pictured it all again.
“The thing that I remember….That made me realize… made me see that he was more than just a vamp….Well it was cos of you actually… cos of the way he cried when you jumped from the tower.
Goddess… I’ve never seen anyone cry like that.” her voice trailed off lost in remembered awe.

“It was like there was nothing else in the world but that moment of pain, and that it would be all he ever felt until he died.
You know,” she said thoughtfully her eyes lost in memory. “If it wasn’t for Dawn I really don’t think he would have lasted the day.”

Her eyes filled with regret and wonder, she turned to look at her best friend whose tears still streamed down her face.
“I miss him too Buffy “I su-suppose I never realized how much till tonight.”

Buffy turned her gaze to her best friend; her sobbing beginning to slow, tears on her cheeks glimmering wetly in the light from the street below.




“Oh Willow,” she rasped out. “I just miss him so much.
I told him Willow…. I told him and he didn’t believe me…
I don’t know what to do Will, I can’t believe he’s gone and I just don’t know what I’m gonna do”
Her question, ending with a hiccuping sob, was that of a small child that has been punished and does not know the reason why.

Willow found herself at a loss. What could she say, or do to help Buffy feel in any way better. There was nothing she could say that could take away the pain her friend was feeling.


Instead, to delay answering a question she had no answers for she asked a question herself.

“What was it that he didn’t believe Buffy?” She asked gently.

Tear beaded lashes rose, and hazel eyes made green like the sea after a storm met the witches.


And all of a sudden Willow didn’t need to hear Buffy’s answer; she could read it in her friend’s stricken gaze.

“OH” said Willow “OH”… Are you sure Buff? cos maybe you miss understood him.
You know Spike… he was all about the mixed signals” she volunteered, desperate to make things better for her best friend.

Buffy’s eyes closed briefly, as though shutting out the sight of the world helped her cope with her memories in some way.
When she opened them again Willow felt her heart lurch in sympathy at the pain and grief that the Slayer could no longer hide.

“It was in the Hellmouth Will... we were there and the light it... the light was just pouring out of him.
It was so… so beautiful Willow… so very beautiful.
I saw his soul Will” she breathed out in awe.
“I saw his soul and it burned him to ash… But… but before…Before it happened, I held his hand… and the light from him…. The love in him…
Oh God Will’s… our souls they touched, and our hands they… they were on fire.”
She sobbed then, the tears welling in her eyes spilling over as she remembered that last day in the Hellmouth.

“A-and…and then I told him Willow… I told him I loved him… he was going to die and I told him I loved him.”
She laughed harshly, angrily wiping the tears from her cheeks.
“You wanna know something Will?” she asked, staring at her friend, her eyes bleak in their loss.
“Instead of it giving him comfort and peace, or even better… him being Spike and fighting it so he could be with me.
He just looked at me and smiled and then… then he said… he said... No you don’t but thanks for saying it. He told me to leave Will…. that he had to finish it”…
“Why Willow. Why?”
Buffy’s voice was so broken and lost that Willow felt her own heart crack at the loss in her friends’ voice.
“He could have left Willow?” she choked out, the question in her voice pleading for answers that Willow couldn’t give.
“We had won… he could have just taken the dam amulet off and just ran.
But instead he stayed to be a stupid hero and… and he didn’t believe me Will... he didn’t believe me…”
She broke down again then, crying like her heart was gonna break, arms wrapped around herself, she rocked against the pain of her words.


“God Willow why couldn’t I make him believe me? I could feel what he felt for me... he must have felt it too.
If I had just made him believe… just stayed one more moment or argued like I always did with him…
Maybe he would have believed me enough to come… enough to save himself.
“OH GOD…. OH GOD she cried, the pain like something physical trying to claw its way out of her chest.
“I can’t do this… I just cannot do this… He’s gone… he said he wouldn’t leave... not ever… and he’s gone Will… he’s gone…”

Willow spent the next half an hour cradling her distraught friend trying to reassure her that Spike did know that she’d loved him. That he wouldn’t have wanted Buffy to feel this way. He would have wanted her to live, to go on, to remember him proudly as a hero.

But all the words that Willow used to placate her friend, to try and ease her grief, still didn’t change the fact that Buffy’s pain was something she had to face by herself.
Something she would have to come to terms with before she could move on with any sort of life.
And as much as Willow would like to think that what Buffy was feeling was due to her guilt as much as it was her feelings for the absent vampire… she was nowhere as good at denial as Xander.
Sure guilt was part of it, but no way was it the main part.

Simply put, Buffy was grieving because she had lost the man she was in love with, and his being gone was something that she just could not seem to accept.


Willow was abruptly brought back from her memories of the past by the sound of the last of the potion being sucked through the straw.

Shaking her self from her introspection, and lets face it right on the verge of a big old fashioned cry fest. She tried to distract herself from thoughts of Buffy’s reaction to Spike’s…..Well Spike’s everything to be honest.
She had to make Spike believe that Buffy would want to see him.

Ok, so maybe she was dating The Immortal now, and they did seem to be getting awfully snugly, but she knew her friend well enough to know when she was in love.
Ok, so Yeah, maybe she’d missed the whole Spike and Buffy show, but that was different. Buffy and she were closer now… and there was no way Buff was in love with what Kennedy referred to as her Italian Stallion.
In like maybe… but none of the love.
So it would only be of the good if she somehow managed to get Spike to agree to see the slayer.

Ok back to the whole I’ll worry about it later. She sighed as her thoughts came full circle.

“Right Spike let’s see if the potion helped any” she said cheerfully.

Peeking under the bandages at a couple of his wounds soon had her attempt at chirpy fading.
She was no doctor but it didn’t look like the potion had helped at all, if anything the bite wounds looked even worse.

Though?… hold on a second, examining the non bitey wounds… the smaller wounds, that she had assumed were claw and weapon marks, she noticed they at least seemed to be healing.
Ok… she mused biting her lip. The non dragon wounds are healing but the dragon one’s are getting worse.
Which means? Illyria was right, and that I really need to get my hands on that book right now.

Ok first things first, I need to get some blood into him before he wastes away to nothing.
Hmm… at least I think he’ll waste before he dust’s but… oh who am I kidding….
I don’t have clue what I’m doing she thought, as panic of the Willow variety threatened to rear its ugly head.

“Ok... ok, blood” she muttered “I can do blood… just feed him, then do the spell Will, then you can find the answer and go home and snuggle with your honey.”

Pep talk complete and feeling in no way calmer Willow went to the refrigerator and selected a bag of each type of blood.
Using a large plastic jug provided earlier by Illyria, Willow mixed demon, human and animal blood together and sprinkled a few more healing herbs into it.
Then after doing a quick spell, warming it to body temperature she moved back to Spike’s bedside and again cradled his head in her hand as she urged him to drink.

At first, she was afraid he wouldn’t respond, that he was too far under the influence of his pain and the potion she had given him.
But with a little patience and some really loud yelling of his name she eventually got him to open his mouth to drink the blood.
It took her much longer than it should have to get the blood into him, and Willow was disturbed to notice that the whole time he had been drinking he hadn’t even looked like vamping out.

She was pretty sure, from what Spike had said in the past, after Glory’s beating, that if a vamp didn’t go into game face when he needed to feed, then it meant that he either had really great control, or he was so far gone that he was dust buster bound.



Looking at Spike, she somehow doubted he was refraining from vamping out just to spare her sensibilities, so that meant if she didn’t find a way to help him real soon she wouldn’t have to worry about telling Buffy anything.

Willow went to the window and peeked past curtains that had been drawn against the night.
The sun was coming up and traffic was starting to build up in the street below the hotel.
Los Angeles was coming to life while she felt like death warmed over.

She had expended a great deal of magic in the past several hours and it would take even more to bring Tara’s book here, then there was the whole conceal spell that she would have to do to keep anyone from finding them.
It would be better if she could just take Spike somewhere else; somewhere they would be able hide without worrying about needing magic to conceal them.

She rested her head against the glass of the window and sighed wearily.
She was far too tired and drained to attempt the finder’s keeper spell now, and moving Spike was out of the question.

At least she wouldn’t have to worry about Buffy’s presence… not until tonight.
It would take that long for her to get a flight from Rome, assuming she had even heard about Angel’s crew.

Willow sighed again before pulling the curtains closed and turning back to face the vampire.
She couldn’t help Spike without her magic and her magic had a tendency to be a little wonky when she was tired, so the best thing she could do right now, would be to get some rest.

Looking around the room Willow decided that the old armchair leaning drunkenly in one corner would have to do.
Spike was too damaged to be left alone, and even if she could find Illyria within the maze that was the Hyperion, she doubted after the former God’s warning that she’d be welcomed.

Lowering herself gingerly into the rickety old chair Willow pulled out a blanket she had dragged out of the bundle of stuff that Illyria had provided.
Pulling it around herself she wriggled and squirmed trying to make herself comfortable.
After about ten minutes of such she concluded that, it just wasn’t happening and gave up.
Closing her eyes she did her best to ignore said discomfort and attempted to relax, hoping that the sheer exhaustion of her body would do the rest.
Fortunately, for Willow, years of late night research in hard wooden chairs benefited her in this instance.
Within minutes of closing her eyes, the witch was fast asleep.

Buffy awakened from her light doze, the gentle touch of a hand on her shoulder rousing her. Opening her eyes sleepily, she took in the smiling gaze of the pretty hostess that had served them during their flight from Rome to LA.



“Miss Summers we will be landing in a few minutes. Would you like to freshen up before final approach? Your sister is up front chatting to the pilot, so the bathroom is free. If you like, I can bring you some warm towels to help you feel a little more awake and aware.”

The hostess noted the weariness on the slayer’s face. Wondering how someone so young could look like she carried the worry of the world on her shoulders, she waited patiently for the blonde to throw of the last traces of sleep.


“Um yes thanks, that would be good” Buffy replied gratefully, still trying to convince her brain that it was time to wake up, not go back to sleep.

“I hope my sister hasn’t made a nuisance of herself?” she smiled apologetically. “You see this is our first flight on a non-commercial plane and she was pretty excited about the whole thing.”



The hostess, whom Buffy remembered introducing herself as Maria, smiled before assuring her that no, not at all. The younger Miss Summers had been a delight to have and that the pilot was in fact glad to have had such interesting company.

Somehow, knowing Dawn, Buffy doubted that. But she figured, what the hey, at least she wasn’t back here bugging the hell out of me for the entire flight.



Yawning and stretching, she looked out of the small window in the jet’s bulkhead. At the sight of her hometown lights spread out below her, an unexpected burst of joy washed over her.

God! She was going home! She was about to step back on American soil after nearly a year, and until this very moment she had not realized how much she’d missed it.

Rising with a last warm glance at the lights below, she made her way to the small but luxurious bathroom in the rear of the jet.

Ten minutes later as she was buckling her seat belt in preparation for landing, Dawn came bouncing through the forward cabin door.

Throwing herself into the soft leather seat beside her sister, Dawn seemed, to Buffy’s exhausted eyes, way too hyperactive for someone who had been awake all night.



“God Buff sleep much? You missed the whole flight!” she teased with a wide grin.



“Yeah, like you care little sis” quipped the slayer. “I’m not blind Dawnie; I saw the way you were making cow eyes at our pilot. Young, Italian and cute, all your criteria for date worthiness. I’m surprised you even remembered I was here” she finished drolly.



“Ha Ha… very funny oh sister mine” shot back Dawn. “I’ll have you know that I spent the entire time talking about you and Rome and the whole romantic Spike and you thing. I am much too mature” she said with an exaggerated huff, “to be thinking about hitting on a guy when were on a mission of mercy.”



“Married or gay?” the slayer asked with a knowing smirk.



“Both!” grumbled Dawn with a petulant frown.



“All the cute ones are honey.” stated Buffy, her solemn tone belied by the twinkle in her eyes.



“Oh it’s all right for you” complained Dawn “You have the Immortal pining after you, and when we find Spike you’ll probably be so busy shagging him that I won’t see you for weeks.”



“Dawn…. Oh my God” Buffy gasped, blushing a deep crimson. “Spike and I will not be ‘shagging’ as you put it. And just where did you learn… never mind, I know exactly where you heard it,” she grimaced “and that’s one more thing he and I will be talking about… corrupting my innocent little sister. Just you wait til I get my hands on him.”



Dawn giggled as she caught the glazed look in her sister’s eyes at the phrase ‘hands on’. Oh yeah, there would be no shagging there…Right!



“Do you think he’ll really be glad to see us?” asked Buffy, her tone suddenly anxious. “What if he didn’t come find us cos he doesn’t care anymore Dawnie? I mean he’s been back a long time. What if he really doesn’t want to see me?”



Chewing on her lip Dawn considered her sister’s question before answering.


“Buffy I know Spike. I don’t know why he stayed away, but I do know that if he stayed away for any reason it was because he thought it would make you happy. And besides, being with Angel all this time was probably a really bad influence on him”

She smirked at Buffy’s glare. “God I hope the whole broody thing isn’t contagious” she commented rolling her eyes with a sigh.

“Look Buffy” she offered seriously “Spike has a soul, and even when he was still in Sunnydale being controlled by the First, I could tell that the soul had changed the way he thought of us. Except maybe Xander” she added with a grin.

“He was much more serious and way less impulsive. God you remember… you had to yell at him to make him start acting like Spike. He was so burdened by the guilt and the whole insanity thing that he was practically an Angel clone there for a while.”

Shuddering melodramatically she continued. “But even back then with the quiet and brooding, not to mention everything else that was going on, you were still the only thing he really cared about.”

Her voice was wistful and solemn as she reached for her sister’s hand’ Giving it a gentle squeeze, she met Buffy’s eyes with certainty.

“He didn’t save the world for puppies and Christmas Buffy… he saved it for you. The guy got a soul for you, and then died for you. So I really can’t see him deciding that all of that was unimportant just because he got brought back mystically. Can you?”



Buffy wanted desperately to take comfort from her sister’s words, but a small part of her kept whispering… What if she was wrong? What if he really had gotten over her and moved on?


“But that’s just it Dawn, what if he doesn’t have his soul anymore? she asked quietly. “What if he woke up one morning and decided that what he felt for me wasn’t real. What…what if it wasn’t real?”



“And again with the big, Huh?” Dawn gaped, shaking her head with a distinct lack of understanding. “What do you mean… what if it wasn’t real? I’m sorry sis, but you’ve lost me there. Care to explain? Cos I’m just not seeing this one,” she said her face a mask of confusion.



Chewing her lip nervously Buffy did her best to avoid looking at her sister while she tried to explain her fears.

“I’ve been thinking about this Dawn…ever since I got on the plane I’ve done nothing but think about it…and…”



“Buff” Dawn cut in impatiently “No offense but you and the thinking thing not so much of the mixy… you remember… you slayer, me brain. C’mon, you know what happens when you start to think. Badness happens” finished Dawn her cheeky grin broadening at the glowering look on her sister’s face.



“Oh you’re just full of the funny today” came the sarcastic rejoinder. “But before you get all busy booking me in to special ed classes, you might wanna hear what I have to say, cos, HEY Chosen One here. Smart enough to survive the apocalypse on a boringly regular basis, and guess what? Brainpower, while not always used, definitely optional” she drawled sardonically. “You might also wanna remember, before you shoot me down, that the blonde is not totally natural ”.



“Yeah yeah, go college Buffy” snickered Dawn, taking in the pouty look on her sister’s face.



“Grrr” the slayer snarled, though admittedly half-heartedly.

She knew what Dawn was up to, and as much as she appreciated her sister’s attempt to distract her from her worries; Buffy couldn’t help feeling very worried about the niggling doubts that had been circling her brain since she left Rome.


“Look Dawn” the Slayer said her tone suddenly serious. “Like I said, I did some thinking on the way here, and it occurred to me there could be one very good reason why Spike hasn’t tried to find us, regardless of what Andrew thinks he feels. I mean God, how much more wrong could he have gotten it with the whole ‘she’s moving on’ speech that he gave Spike and Angel? He could be completely wrong in thinking that Spike still loves me.”



Dawn watched the shadows of doubt and insecurity overtake her sister’s eyes at those words, and as much as she wanted to jump in and reassure Buffy of Spike’s continuing devotion, there was a very small part of her own mind that had similar doubts.

She decided the only way to help was to let her air those doubts. Crossing her arms across her chest she gave her sister her best ‘I am listening, but I reserve the right to believe you’ look.



“Ok it’s like this… when Spike first got chipped, Giles thought that maybe the powers might be behind it… that they made it happen so Spike would fight on our side and earn some sort of redemption.”



At Dawn’s unladylike snort Buffy suppressed her urge to smile and continued, ignoring the minor interruption.


“At the time I thought that Giles must have been hit in the head one too many times and I just shrugged it off much the same way Spike did. But Dawnie, what if Giles was right? What if everything that happened was so Spike would be there to wear Angel’s flashy jewel thingy, so he could save the world?”

She took a deep breath. “What if the Powers caused it all? What if the chip and the soul was their way of making sure Spike would do what they wanted?”


Lip starting to wobble, she met her sister’s eyes. “I mean it’s not like they haven’t interfered with me and a vamp in the past. They were the ones that sent Angel to Sunnydale in the first place. So what if…I mean what if Spike…”


“Oh c’mon Buffy you can’t really believe that” Dawn interrupted incredulously.

“The chip was an accident, and the soul was cos he loved you Buff. He didn’t want to hurt you anymore, so he got the soul because … because… Well actually, I never really got the full story there” she admitted with a scowl “But I’m pretty sure the soul was all about how he felt about you, and what he’d done. You know the… well you know.” said Dawn her eyes shifting away from her sisters intense stare.

She found herself unable to finish the rest of the sentence, the memory of Spike’s attempted rape still stirring up confused anger in the younger girl.



“But that’s just it Dawn… don’t you see? What if what Spike felt for me was part of it? Maybe it was just another way of controlling him, manipulating him in to doing their dirty work. What if what he felt for me wasn’t real? What if it was just like Willow’s ‘Will be done’ spell? And… and what if when he was resurrected in LA he realized that?”



“That’s an awful lot of ‘what ifs’ Buffy.” Dawn stated, frowning at her sister.

“Ok, so lets just say your right about the chip, and it was the Powers. Cos yeah, I get the whole similarity thing that the chip and Angel’s curse have going”, she offered with a frown.

“So okay I could maybe see that, them being ‘The Powers That Be’. But Buff, what you seem to have forgotten is that you died. You were gone for months Buffy… and Spike still stayed.”


Frown melting into a smile, Dawn’s voice softened in memory.

“He stayed to protect me Buffy. And before you jump in and say it’s because he loved you, stop for a moment and think about it. There is no spell that I’ve ever heard of, that could make someone continue loving a person when they’re dead. If it had been some sort of geas or thrall, then it would have died when you did. Sure, Spike might have stayed around. But he sure as hell wouldn’t have gone out of his way to protect any of us… especially not Xander. Besides Buffy” she rushed on before her sister could butt in, her tone brightening with sudden insight.

“If they were gonna make him love you, don’t you think they would have made him a lot more attractive to you? I mean for Pete’s sake, I saw Willow’s ‘Will be done’ spell… well ok, I didn’t see it… cos hey, really didn’t exist back then, but thanks to the stupid monks I have complete and very vivid memories of you going on about my being a flower girl. Which, just let me say, I so could have done without.”

“Anyway where was I? Oh yeah… if it had been the Powers, wouldn’t it have made more sense for you to have at least liked Spike? Instead of threatening him and beating him up all the time? I mean… if they wanted him to fight for our side, they had a pretty strange way of going about it.”



Sighing with exasperation at the still troubled look on her sister’s face, she rolled her eyes before stating.

“Making him love his mortal enemy seems a little like over kill if you ask me. They didn’t need him to love you. They only needed him to fight for us, and the chip was already making him do that. And as for the whole soul thing” she mused thoughtfully, “well that was just another way it could have backfired… and very nearly did,” she added with a pointed look.

“They may be The almighty Powers, but not even they could be sure that Spike would win his soul. And I doubt if they did manage to orchestrate that particular feat, that his being insane and killing cos of the First’s trigger would have been part of their plan.”


“No Buff” she stated firmly taking in the now hopeful look on her sister’s face

“Too many things might have gone wrong. And it definitely would have been the hard way of getting him to do what they wanted. So, after due consideration” she finished smugly “Not to mention some really good logic, I have to say that it’s a great big emphatic ‘NO WAY’ to the whole ‘it wasn’t real’ theory.” she smirked in satisfaction.

“Oh and another thing” she added, now on a roll. “Spike protected me from Glory. He let himself get tortured. I honestly don’t think that any love spell could make a vampire, or any man endure that. Only real love could. And let’s not forget that was before the soul. One spell for you…maybe… but two?” the skeptical look on her face was wiped away with her next words

“Whatever else I do or don’t know Buff, I know that soulless Spike loved me.” she finished, her ‘So There” implied but not voiced.



There was such finality in Dawn’s voice and attitude that Buffy couldn’t help but feel her worries lift slightly.

What Dawn said made a lot of sense. So now, the only way she had left to find out the truth was to go to the source. She would just have to find Spike and ask him why he hadn’t come looking for her, and if it was because he no longer loved her then she would deal with it then.



After pulling her sister in for a hug, she lent back and gave her a grateful smile.

“Thanks Dawnie… I don’t know when you got so wise, but thanks.” Squaring her shoulders with determination, she released Dawn as she became aware that at some stage during their little chat the plane had landed.




“C’mon little sister we’ve got a vamp to find. And we still have to find a way to contact Willow, cos she’s probably our best chance of finding him in this city.”



“Hey Buff that reminds me…” Dawn ventured with a thoughtful frown “What did Giles know about that coven meeting thing that Willow went to? Cos I forgot to ask you, what with all the excitement of the plane ride.”


“That’s the weird thing Dawnie, Giles had no idea what I was talking about” confessed Buffy, her expression equally thoughtful.

“He said as far as he knew the coven weren’t due to meet until the next solstice, and he hadn’t heard anything about Willow being called to help out.”



“Well that’s strange” observed Dawn, studying her sister’s puzzled face.



“Yeah well, now that you mention it, the weird keeps on coming” Buffy admitted with shrug.

“I rang Kennedy back to see if she’d heard from Wills yet and she said that she’d spoken to Willow, and Willow told her that she would call me when she could. Willow apparently told her she was doing some really big healing mojo thing with the others, and would be unreachable by phone for a coupla days at least. “She grimaced.

“Okay, so I know that Willow gets pretty heavy into the spell casting, but it’s just not like her to just take off like that and not find some way of staying in touch, or at least letting us know what’s going on.”

Her voice took on thoughtful cast. “If I didn’t know better Dawnie, I’d think Willow was avoiding me.”


She shook her head trying to shake off her suspicions.

“God Dawnie, this is Willow we’re talking about. Surely she learnt her lesson in Sunnydale, what with her magic addiction and all. Besides, why would she try to avoid me? Its not like she’s done anything to piss me off lately… apart from dating Kennedy” she offered with a snigger.




“Hmm” Dawn mused, the suddenly intense look on her face abruptly dispelling Buffy’s amusement.




“Ok Dawn what are you thinking? I know that face… that’s your ‘I know something my sister doesn’t’ face” eyes narrowing and her voice full of accusation, she frowned. “And let us not forget that the last time I saw that particular look was THAT horrible ‘Morning that will not be named’”


Buffy shuddered, trying desperately not to think about it, less the remembered visuals caused her eyes to explode. “We all remember how well my cluelessness worked out that time?” she bit out sarcastically, still not completely over the whole thing.



“For God sake Buffy” grumbled Dawn, folding her arms in her best ‘get over it’ pose.

“I’ve told you like a thousand times… I warned you not to go into the room. Is it my fault you don’t listen?” she rolled her eyes at her sister’s glare. “I mean sheesh, how much clearer could I say it?”

“Hmph” Buffy snorted “I don’t think ‘Hey Sis, Andrew’s in your room let him sleep in’… is the same as… Oh, say… ‘Andrew and those two chickies he went out with last night are naked in your room…Let them sleep in’” she huffed.

“I mean really Dawn, there are some things my eyes are just not meant to see that early… or ever. Andrew with the orgy twins… in my bed? Definitely on the list. Anyway, enough of the memory trip from hell.”


Grimacing, she shook her head to clear any horrible memories that might have wanted to linger, then turned her gaze back to her sister.

“Let’s get back to Willow and your all knowing look”, she asked determinedly. “So you gonna spill, or what?”



“Ok sis, but you have to understand it’s just a hunch nothing definite… I mean it’s not like I’m sure or anything.”



“DAWN?”



“All right already...” she huffed at her sister’s impatience. “I think the reason we can’t get hold of Will is cos she’s already here. And I think if she’s not already with him… she probably knows where Spike is.”



Buffy gaped “And how did you come by that particular hunch Dawn? I mean Willow being all incommunicado and Spike being injured doesn’t exactly scream conspiracy.” Buffy arched an eyebrow at the smug look on her sister’s face.



“It’s elementary my dear sister… A) Willow mentioned big healing magic and cannot be reached; very un-Willow like. B) In the vision thingy that Armando’s friend had, Spike was hurt pretty seriously. And C) we’re mostly sure that some, if not all of Angel’s crew were wiped out cos of some big battle... Right?”



“Uh, yeah” agreed Buffy uncomprehendingly. “I still don’t see…” she trailed off as she noticed the impatient look on Dawn’s face.



“Look Buff it’s simple. If Spike was hurt in a magical battle then he would need help… magical help… ergo the Willow missage, cos knowing that stupid vamp he’s probably still on the whole ‘don’t tell Buffy’ kick he was on when he was in Rome. And you know our Willow? Not so good with the lying, but the avoidy thing?” she shrugged.




“You mean you think Willow is hiding Spike, and that’s why she doesn’t want to talk to me?” the Slayer asked with a puzzled frown.

“But Dawnie, Will is the only other one apart from you that knows how I feel about Spike. It doesn’t make sense. Why would Willow do that? She knows how badly I’d want to see him, especially if he was hurt!”



“Well my best guess,” replied Dawn, a contemplative look settling on her features “is that Spike is the reason, but I haven’t quite worked out the why”.



“Ok Dawnie, lets say your right about Willow and Spike. How are we going to find them if they don’t want to be found?”



Buffy’s rising anxiety made her voice so shrill that Dawn instantly went into damage control. The last thing she needed was her sister working her self up into one of her famous rants.




“Buffy, this is Spike and Willow we’re talking about. The two people in the world that couldn’t plan their way out of a wet paper bag with instructions and a flashlight.”

Her voice was deliberately droll and her eye roll exaggerated. “Stop and think for a minute, what do both of them have in common? And which place is the only place in LA that both of them visited last?”



She watched her sister think about it for a moment, letting her find her way to the obvious conclusion. A smug half smile was the only sign that she loved the fact that even though Buffy was the slayer, it was she, Dawn, that had seemingly gotten the lion’s share of the brains in their weird little family.



“The Hyperion” groaned Buffy. “Oh for Pete’s sake not even those two would be that obvious surely? C’mon Dawn it can’t be that simple, I mean Spike mightn’t realize I know about his working with Angel, but Willow would have to know it would be the first place I’d look… Wouldn’t she?”

Her voice and expression became even more uncertain as she took in the look of resolve on her little sister’s face.




“Well there’s only one way to find out Buffy. So do we cab it, or are we renting?” the former key asked gleefully.

Spike was dreaming. He was back in the alley and he was facing the Dragon with Angel at his side.



Angel rushed forward holding an axe that he'd liberated from some demon he dispatched moments before, a wild grin on his face. He lunged forward in a mad leap, attempting to damage the monster before it had the chance to use it's apparently not so mythical fire breath.



Then suddenly in the way of dreams, it wasn't Angel, it was Buffy, and instead of completing the attack she turned to face Spike. The look on her face was heartbreaking and her words even more so.



"You finally left me Spike... you promised me you would never leave, and you left just like the others." There was such loss in her eyes that Spike felt his undead heart clench in pain as she stood, back turned to the danger behind her.





He started to move towards her... to reassure her that he hadn't really left her, not in his heart. But even as he took the first step the dragon behind her reared up. "Buffy..." he yelled, trying desperately to warn her of the danger.



"Its ok Spike... don't you remember? Death is my gift." she offered sadly as she turned to face the dragon's fire. She moved forward to meet its charge and Spike saw the flicker of the dragon's flames glint off the familiar curves of the Scythe.



For a moment, he was frozen in time as he watched the Slayer in all her lethal grace move forward and engage the huge beast. She raised her arm and with slayer strength threw the scythe with deadly accuracy. It pierced the dragon's hide exactly as aimed, right over it's heart.



The dragon roared, and with its last breath, it loosed a stream of molten flame enveloping the small form of the slayer.

Spike screamed in horror as Buffy turned to him, her clothes and skin alight, her hair seemingly part of the flame, so it looked to Spike as though she was completely made of the fire. She moved towards him reaching out her hands.



"I touched the fire Spike... I touched the fire and I got it back...

Look at me William I got it all back...because of you."



Spike lunged towards her, desperate to smother the flames. But before he could even touch her, the fire surrounding her form flared brighter than the sun and she crumbled to ash at his feet.



"BUFFY" he rasped as he lurched awake... "BUFFY NO..."



Argh! He shrieked, the pain of his many injuries waking with his panicked movement. He writhed on the bed as the torment from his dream battled with the agony of his wounds.



God, he knew he was dying, but he never expected dying a third time would be this painful. It was worse than burning up in the Hellmouth. At least back then it had been with the knowledge that the woman he loved would be safe and the pain, though agonizing, would be brief.



Now he felt like every part of him was on fire, he could feel his unlife slipping away by inches. The dream that had awakened him seemed to have made the pain intensify, and for the first time since he'd become corporeal again he truly wished he'd never been brought back.





"Spike...Spike, it's Ok Spike. It was just a dream" soothed a voice that was vaguely familiar, though right at the moment, he just couldn't seem to place it. He tried to open his eyes and it was with renewed horror that he remembered he couldn't see, that he was blind.





"Shhh" murmured the voice as he felt a cool hand settle on his cheek, the touch so light that at first he thought it was his imagination.



The familiar smell a mixture of spice and strawberry prompted his olfactory memory into volunteering the identity of the voice.





"God.... Red, please...Red... it hurts... why the bloody fuck am I still here?"

He moaned as her hand left his face and his body flailed in panic at the loss. "RED, GOD RED, don't go" he pleaded, voice rising in panic as the pain became near unbearable. "I need you to finish me Red... don't you bloody well leave me like this... not now"



Then she was back, her cool hand at the base of his neck and he could dimly sense she was holding something close to his ruined mouth.





"Drink, Spike, drink..." she urged gently "it will help with the pain. I'm not going anywhere Spike I won't leave you" she promised, tears welling in her eyes. "shhh, I'm here and I'm not going away."



Willow's brow knotted in worry as the vampire on the bed writhed in agony. The hastily prepared blood and herb concoction ignored, as his body bowed under the pain of his frantic movements.



"Spike" She called loudly and with a firmness she was far from feeling.

"Spike you have to drink this and you have to stay still. Drink" she commanded, trying to stop her own rising despair as the vampire writhed with a torment that Willow couldn't begin to imagine.



Hastily wiping away the tears that threatened to fall, she muttered a prayer of calming under her breath. Calling once again on the Goddess to lend her strength, she concentrated her will on immobilizing the stricken vampire.





Slowly his body stopped jerking, until only the odd spasm wracked his damaged frame and he was at last able to focus enough to take the offered straw and drink.



Willow sighed in relief as moments after he'd finished it he seemed to slip back into the arms of slumber.

Examining him closely she was relieved to see that he had done no serious damage to himself. His sleep seemed to be actual sleep rather than unconsciousness.



Settling back on her heels and observing him for a few more moments, she tried to gather her scattered wits.

Glancing at her watch she registered that she had slept for barely four hours, but she knew looking at Spike that four hours was all she was gonna get. She needed to call the book now. Sleep was a luxury she could no longer afford.



Getting slowly to her feet she stretched, bowing her head for a moment to prepare herself mentally for the spell she would have to perform.



Oh Tara, I wish you were here.



The thought was sudden, causing a sharp pang in her heart. It was times like these that she felt again just how much she had lost when Tara was taken from her.



Oh God baby, you were always so much better at this stuff than me... I just hope I remember how to do this right.



It was funny she thought, how she could go for days, sometimes a week without thinking of her former love with grief... then bang, something would remind her that Tara was truly gone, and the grief would come rushing back as fresh as the day she held her lover's body in her arms.



This particular type of magic was something Tara had always excelled at. She, in a way, being more connected to the earth than Willow, even though Willow's power was the greater.



Just the thought of the expression on her lost loves face, as she called upon the mother to help her with her casting, was enough for Willow's old wounds to break open and bleed there sorrow anew.



Lifting her head and blinking away the tears that had started to form yet again; she seemed for a moment to hear the echo of Tara's voice in her mind.



You can do this Willow... I believe in you. Trust yourself and the Goddess... the magic will come.



Smiling tremulously Willow gathered her resolve. Right... I can do this... I know I can do this... I'm the big gun.

Okay, one book coming right up,she nodded with grim determination.

Hell... after empowering an army of slayers there's no way I can't do this. It's a really basic spell... an easy spell... just cos you've never done it before doesn't mean you can't.





Pulling her athame out of her bag, she turned to the small refrigerator and searched for what she would need.



Let's see the spell calls for blood... too bad I can't use the bagged stuff,she thought with regret. God I hate the whole ‘it's always about the blood' thing, especially when it's mine.



"Ah ha" she muttered triumphantly. Finally finding what she'd been searching for.





Clearing a space off to the side of the bedroom under the window, she reached for the small silver bowl that someone had fortuitously left behind when the AI team moved to Wolfram and Hart.



She had to give Illyria credit for thoroughness; she seemed to have pretty much brought every magically related item left in the hotel, as well as a most of the kitchen.



Tipping the contents of the jar she'd retrieved from the refrigerator into the bowl, she braced herself before swiftly slicing her palm with the sharp kitchen knife she'd found earlier. Knowing, from painful experience, that her athame would not be up to the task.





Holding her palm over the bowl, she invoked the name of Hecate and asked that she help in the casting.



After deciding that she had bled enough to satisfy the requirements of the spell, she carefully bound her hand before taking her place, turning her attention to the space she had chosen for the working.



Shaking her head quizzically, she started to draw the outline of the pentagram with the contents of the bowl.



It's a good thing Spike's asleep, cos the garlic I just used for the spell would probably have had him sneezing his head off.



She remembered fondly, her amusement at Spike's reluctant explanation, (one evening during the months that Buffy was gone) that the reason he didn't like garlic on his pizza wasn't because it was deadly to vampires, but was in fact because vampires were actually allergic to the stuff.



Apparently sneezing your head off around the potential happy meals on legs didn't exactly inspire dread in an intended victim. Hence, the myth of it being deadly. It gave vamps a legit excuse to avoid the stuff, and the subsequent embarrassment.



Xander, of course, had given him hell about it, making sure to get extra garlic on every pizza for the next week. Anya finally noticed, telling him that if he came to bed smelling like garlic one more night she would refuse to give him orgasms for the following week. After that, the pizza was blessedly garlic free.







Finishing the last few lines of the pentagram, she laid the blade aside and stepped within the center of her labor. Sitting and crossing her legs, she rested her arms, palms up, and focused her mind on the task ahead.



First, she pictured the face of the books previous owner, Tara, and then she pictured the book that she needed to call.



Next, she tied the two together with a cord of silver light and pictured the light flowing from Tara to the book, slowly unwinding itself until it flowed back to the pentagram enclosing her.



Then chanting softly, she focused her energies on the image of Tara and the book.



"Let what was lost now be found

I summon from Gaia's embrace

That which is needed now

With her blessing I call it

With her power I ask it

If it be her will, it shall be found

In her name, by the power of the earth I beseech

Let what was lost now be found

So mote it be... so mote it be"



Breathing rhythmically, she continued to chant the invocation repeatedly. While in her mind, the picture of Tara and the book grew clearer and sharper. The silver cord that she had visualized as a link between the book and her lover glowing and expanding as it flowed towards its desired destination, the pentagram in which she sat.





She felt a tingle begin in the region of her stomach as she visualized the connection between her and her dead love that would allow her to claim ownership of the book.



Chanting the words, she worried briefly that the spell she'd used wouldn't be sufficient to transfer ownership from Tara to herself. She had, after all, had to tweak it a little as it was originally meant to call for something that was lost by the true owner.



Of course, with Tara being gone she supposed technically the book now had no owner. But working with the knowledge that failure might mean Spike's death, she had very carefully devised a way to (hopefully) get round the whole ownership thing.



She felt the tug of contact, sensing through the magical connection that what she needed had been found.



Concentrating even harder on the link joining Tara, the book, and herself, she pushed down her rising excitement and attempted to pull it towards her gently.





That's weird she thought, feeling the illusionary cord tug at her middle.



Hmm... something is blocking it. Maybe the residual energy from the Hellmouth was having more of an affect than she'd factored for?



She redoubled her efforts, never once losing sight of the image in her mind. Knowing that if she lost the link she had so painstakingly forged she wouldn't get another chance.



C'mon, she thought in frustration as she poured more power into the spell. C'mon... c'mon I really need this to work.





After several more minutes of faithful chanting and intense concentration, the book still seemed to be defying her efforts to summon it. She knew that the spell was working; she could feel the deep connection Tara and she had shared in life. She knew that she had fooled the spell into believing that Tara had shared ownership with her because of their bond. So she didn't understand what was holding the book back.



Sunnydale was nothing more that a huge hole in the ground and the Hellmouth was closed, so why the heck wouldn't the stupid thing just come?



Oh, screw it, she thought. I don't have time for subtle.



Closing her eyes, she turned her vision inward. Drawing magic from deep within herself, she used her recently awakened power to force her will upon the cord that linked the book to her.



She had used the power she acquired closing the Hellmouth sparingly over the past year, only calling on it in extreme cases of emergency.

This though, was the second time in as many days that she had occasion to use it.



A small voice of caution in the back of her mind whispered that what she was doing was too much like the quick fix attitude she'd had in the bad old days.



Firmly squashing her doubts with the very valid argument that A) this was an emergency and B) it was her only option, she threw the last of her caution to the wind.



Pouring all her will and power into the tug of war between what she now thought of as the Hellmouth and herself, she raised her voice and dug deep.



"Hecate I call thee," she chanted, her determined voice coated in demand rather than its earlier gentle supplication.



"In your name I invoke the power

By your will lend me strength

What is lost is found... what is found is claimed

What is claimed is mine

I call it to me by the power of your name, I command it

Let the hold be loosened

Let the bonds be freed

Bring what's mine to me..."



She felt it then, with sudden dread. She felt the outpouring of magic that she hadn't experienced since empowering the slayers. Without being told, she knew that her hair was a glowing white, and light, like the magic, was flowing from the very pores of her skin.





Oops... maybe I might have overdone it a tad, came the thought, as the backlash from the spell activated, snapping whatever hold had been stopping the spell from completion. With it came the return of the power, bringing with it what was lost.



Oh Goddess, I'm gonna have one hell of a headache, was her last conscious thought. Right before the tide of returning magic washed over her and she blacked out.







When Willow awoke... she wasn't sure how long she'd been out, but she suspected it was at least a couple of hours from the guttering of the candles she had lit earlier. Groaning in pain, she blinked blurry eyes and attempted to sit up.





Holy heck! What the hell? "Geez I gotta remember to never do that again," she mumbled, shaking her head ruefully.



"Talk about overkill. What the frick was that anyway?" she worried aloud, attempting to sit up.



I really don't remember Tara having that much trouble doing that spell... maybe I should have...



"Aaaakkk", she shrieked, her hand touching something warm on the floor next to her.



Scrambling away from the source of her fright, she scuttled backwards until she hit the wall directly under the window. Squinting in the gloom of the last of the dying candles, she tried to make out what she had touched, while at the same time she mumbled the words to a light spell.



The spell flared briefly, but as drained as she was it died before Willow could get a good look at what it was she had touched. It did however allow her to see that it wasn't so much a what, as a who.



Slowing her breathing down she deliberately stretched her senses.

Yes there it was... breathing... something was breathing... deep ragged disjointed breathing.



"OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD" she babbled "OH GODDESS what the hell did I do?" She whimpered loudly, even as her internal monologue continued. Oh fricken heck I summoned a demon, oh my God... oh God... oh Goddess what do I do now? Hands flailing about in nervous uselessness, she attempted not to hyperventilate.





It was in the middle of Willow's full-fledged panic attack that the figure on the floor chose to roll over and groan rather loudly. The groan closely followed by the sound of a voice whimpering with fright.





Willow's head shot up, eyes widening in shock.



Hands stilling suddenly, she once again strained her eyes against the dimness. Listening attentively to the sound of what she was suddenly sure was a human voice.



Seconds ticked by and the sound from the still form on the floor continued. To Willow it sounded very much like a woman's voice... a woman in pain.



Gathering her shattered nerves, and deliberately ignoring the fear churning in her stomach, she stood and took a tentative step towards the figure. When nothing happened, she took another, then a third.



She was close enough now to make out the form as female, a naked female.



Glancing quickly to the bed where Spike lay she was relieved and at the same time alarmed to see that the magic she'd done, and their subsequent visitor hadn't disturbed his slumber at all.



For a moment she panicked, considered going to check on him before getting any closer to the room's newest occupant. However, just as she was about to move to his side the woman on the floor let out a harsh and somehow familiar sob.





Willow froze, and just for a moment she felt like she might actually faint.



In actual fact, her legs wobbled and she collapsed to the floor in shock. Breathing raggedly and trying to quell the sudden terror and hope roaring through her body, she crawled awkwardly towards the woman. Every inch closer caused her heart to beat at a faster staccato.



As the woman's form was revealed by the dim light of the remaining candles, Willow found herself holding her breath in dread as well as hope.



Even though her back was to her, Willow could see the fall of long hair that she knew would be a warm dark blond. Her figure was lush with rounded hips and thighs, the sort of figure made popular by painters in centuries past.

Willow knew, though the light was to low to show it, that on the left side of one rounded buttock there would be a small birthmark in the rough shape of a star. Just as she knew that if the woman were to open her eyes, they would be the color of a storm tossed sea.



Close enough now to reach out a trembling hand; she hesitated, as the fear and sudden terror that she might be right washed over her.



God, please let me be wrong, she prayed, even as her heart was singing in joyful recognition.



Her fingers touched the woman's shoulder tentatively, her whole arm singing with the familiarity of the connection.



"Tara?" she gasped "Oh God baby... I'm so sorry Tara," she sobbed out, giving up all pretense of not knowing the figure curled up in distress on the floor in front of her.





Tara started at the other's touch, but hearing Willow's voice, she jerked her head up and stared over her shoulder, straight into Willow's anguished gaze. Without thought the rest of her body followed and she threw herself into the redhead's arms.



It was of course at that moment that Willow's cell began to ring.

Kennedy tapped her foot impatiently “C’mon Will, pick up” giving up the foot tapping and turning to pacing, she began to worry as her girlfriend failed to answer.


Two more attempts were equally as fruitless and with each of them, Kennedy’s anxiety mounted.


In the end, frustrated and more than a bit panicked, though she would never admit it, she threw the phone on to the bed and stormed to the kitchen to make herself a drink. As she sat at the counter, she thought back to her earlier conversations first with Buffy, then Giles.


Buffy’s call hadn’t been unusual, not in itself, and if she had seemed a little distracted and touch impatient? Well that was Buffy. It was the call from Giles barely 15 minutes ago that well and truly set alarm bells ringing.


Willow had lied to her. She was not with the coven, in fact she was most likely not in England at all. Giles seemed to think that there was a very good chance that she was in LA and possibly in a great deal of danger.

Giles had told her to keep calling Willow, and if she managed to reach her she was to tell her to call HQ. Under no circumstance was she to let on that they knew she was not where she said she was.

Even as Giles was telling Kennedy about Willow’s possible whereabouts, he was boarding a plane with Xander and four other slayers, one of whom was Faith.


It seemed that something big involving Angel and his crew had gone down at Wolfram and Hart.

From the scattered information that Giles had managed to glean from various LA sources, it seemed that Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was dead, along with Charles Gunn and possibly Angel as well.


He hadn’t been able to tell Kennedy much more, other than he thought Willow might have gone to LA to assist young Winifred Burkle and Angel.

There had been unconfirmed reports of a vampire accompanied by a woman, surviving a massed battle in the streets near Angel’s old hotel.
Willow’s sudden departure seemed to indicate that she might have gone to their aid.


After Giles had hung up it had taken a few minutes for Kennedy to fully absorb the fact that Willow had lied to her.

With that realization she concluded that if Willow really had gone to Los Angeles without telling anyone, indeed hiding the fact, then it must be much more serious than Giles either knew or had let on.


Now, nearly half an hour and several fruitless phone calls later, she came to the conclusion that the best thing she could do was to get her butt on a plane and straight to LA.


However, before phoning the airport she decided to make one more phone call.

The phone was answered on the fourth ring.


“Buffy?” inquired a sleepy Andrew.

“Hey Andrew” she greeted, jaw clenched “No it’s me, Ken.”


“Kennedy? What’s wrong? Oh my God, has something happened to Buffy and Dawn? Did they find Spike? Are they…”


“Whoa slow down Andrew… what the hell do you mean, did they find Spike? Spike’s dead…and where did you say Buffy and Dawn are?” Did they go to find Will?” she demanded, confusion and anger fighting for dominance in her voice.

“Did Willow call them? Jesus, Andrew. What the hell is going on?” she snarled, the anger and nagging worry in her gut suddenly turning into ice-cold fear.


“I… I don’t know anything about Willow,” stuttered the former nerd

“B-but Buffy and Dawn went to LA last night to look for Spike. Buffy’s boyfriend,” he paused “though now I guess he’s her ex… well some friend of his had a vision about this big bad thing in LA involving Spike and the rest of Angel’s people. Anyway I-I sorta knew that Spike was alive coz of me seeing him, you know, that time with Dana… and Buffy she was real mad… and she hit me.”


Kennedy winced as Andrew’s voice rose to a pitch that only dogs could hear.


“Then she took off for LA to look for him” he continued, his tone thankfully dropping back within its normal range.

“So when you called I thought you were her but you’re not and… and did you say Willow’s missing?” He gasped, breathless from the jumbled delivery of information that had poured out of him.


“Andrew slow down for a minute” ordered Kennedy, still trying to make sense of what he’d just told her.

“Let me get this straight” she hissed, teeth gritted in an attempt to not yell. “You’re telling me that Spike is alive and in LA… and Buffy and Dawn have gone to look for him?”


“Well… yes, isn’t that what I just said?” whined Andrew, before once again attempting to tell Kennedy all about the damage done to his nose.

“Andrew just shut up; I need to think for a minute.”


“Ok” he squeaked, remembering belatedly just what Dawn had threatened him with if he breathed a word about where they’d gone.


Oh God, Dawn had his three most valuable collectibles… he didn’t like to think what she was gonna do to Bobafett never mind his limited edition Darth Vader or (gulp) his recently acquired, very expensive one of only 10,000 die cast Aniken Skywalker figurines.



“Andrew how long ago did Buffy leave? Do you know if she spoke to Willow before she left?” inquired Kennedy, voice deceptively calm.


“Oh God Kennedy, I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone,” he stuttered fearfully. “Please promise you won’t tell Giles, Buffy will kill me if he finds out. You know how he felt about Spike and Angel… please Kennedy… she really loves Spike. If Giles interferes I don’t know what she’ll do.”


Andrew’s voice climbed again with panic, his worry over what Giles would do if he should learn about Spike’s resurrection overshadowing his fear of Buffy’s impending anger.


“Andrew just shut the hell up.” Kennedy growled, her voice harsh with frustration.

“For your information Giles is already on his way to LA, although I don’t know if he knows about Spike. He knows about the battle though, and he suspects that Willow is already there. So I need you to answer my questions NOW. Did Buffy speak to Willow before she left? And how long ago did she leave for the airport?”



“I-I don’t think she could reach Willow.” he mused. “I know she tried a few times but she kept getting a not in service message, so I’m pretty sure she didn’t manage to talk to her before she left. And they flew out last night… on the Immortal’s private jet. They should be there by now,” he offered helpfully, glancing at his watch.



“Shit” Kennedy cursed. “Ok Andrew did Buffy take her cell?”



“Uh yeah I think so... why?”


“Never mind. Look Andrew I gotta go. If anyone else calls, under no circumstances tell them about this call... you got that Andy boy?”

The words were mild but the tone in which they were delivered was not, and Andrew was suddenly reminded that this was a slayer that had fought the first evil and lived to tell the tale.


“Su-sure thing Kennedy, my lips are sealed… you never rang. Um… do you want me to tell Buffy you’re looking for her? Coz I’m pretty sure she’s gonna ring you at home if she can’t find Willow, and I just thought she might…”

Whatever he had been about to say was cut off by Kennedy’s impatient voice.


“If Buffy rings, you know nothing. Willow could be in danger and I don’t want Buffy, Giles, or anyone trying to stop me from going to LA. Hopefully by the time they realize I’ve left it will be too late, and I’ll already be there. So just go back to bed Andrew, and if you’re a really good boy I’ll tell you all about it after I’ve rescued my idiot girlfriend.”


With that she hung up, leaving a very disgruntled ex nerd to his own sulky thoughts.

Half an hour later, Kennedy was packed and on the way to the airport.
She was determined to find her missing girlfriend and have a serious talk about trust issues.



Willow’s cell phone finally stopped ringing, not that she really noticed. Her Tara… her love, was here in her arms… alive and seemingly very glad to see her. Willow felt like she was stuck in one of the wonderful dreams she still occasionally had.

One of the ones where somehow Tara had returned to her and everything was once again right in Willow’s world.

Looking into the eyes of her beloved she expected to see pain and anger, but the look that she was bestowing on Willow reflected only love and gratitude.


Running her hands over the familiar form of her lover’s body, she determined that she seemed physically unscathed from her journey. Even the place where the bullet had entered her body and taken her life seemed to be unmarked.

Tara, who up till then had not spoken, pulled Willow back from her dreamlike musings as she shifted forward and pressed her lips to Willow’s.

“Shh, it’s ok baby don’t cry, it’s really me… it’s me Will. I’m here Willow. I’m back baby…you brought me back… and it’s going to be ok now.”


Kissing away the tears that Willow hadn’t even realized she was shedding, Tara attempted to sooth and comfort her shocked lover.
Soon Tara’s mouth journeyed back to Willow’s.

The redhead felt her heart lurch at the sudden rush of love and passion that the less than innocent kiss stirred within her.


“Oh Tara baby” she moaned. “Is it really you? Please tell me I’m not dreaming… please, please” she begged “don’t let this be another dream”


Leaning back from her love, Tara ran her hands up Willow’s arms across her shoulders, until she was cradling her lover’s face in her hands. She looked deeply into her eyes and smiled.

“It’s not a dream Willow…. I’m real and I’m here, and before you ask… I’m not like Buffy…. you didn’t pull me out of heaven. In fact you saved me. At least I’m pretty sure you did…” she added with a puzzled frown.


“What?” gasped Willow, confusion washing over her “What do you mean? Of course, you were in heaven… weren’t you?” she asked in disbelief.


“It’s ok Will…. calm down baby and I’ll try to explain.” soothed Tara, stroking the others face tenderly.

“When Warren shot me and you called the powers to bring me back, somehow, someway, I got sorta trapped…”


“Oh God, No!” cried Willow.



“No, shh sweetie, it wasn’t your fault, truly it wasn’t… you were in pain and grieving. Shh, listen sweetie” Tara continued, placing her fingers over her lovers lips as Willow opened her mouth to speak.

“Even with the power you called it wasn’t you that caused what happened.” she tried to explain.

“The best I can work out is that the first evil was the one responsible for what happened to me.” she frowned, her mouth turning down with the memory of the shock of the bullet hitting and the horrible feeling of overwhelming evil she had felt approaching, even as she knew she was dying.

“Somehow it manipulated Warren into shooting Buffy and in the process me. Though I’m pretty sure that was accidental” she added as an afterthought.

“Unfortunately for it, Buffy didn’t die straight off, and I suppose it was worried she would survive. So when its plan went kablooey... it decided I was the best chance it had to finish the job. And that’s where you came in, my sweet Willow” she explained. Eyes glowing with love, she studied the face of the still anguished redhead.

“Fortunately for me and the world you decided to do your mojo at exactly the right time. And in some way that I don’t really understand, it stopped the first from using my body. Though in the process, my soul sorta… well… got trapped in the Hellmouth.”



Willow drew in a harsh breath at Tara’s words, her arms tightening around the woman she still held.



“Anyway” Tara cut in seeing that Willow was on the verge of loosing it. “To cut a long story short I’ve been in a type of limbo ever since. The only reason I know all this is that after I was shot, right before my soul left my body, I felt the taint of the first evil when it tried to posses me. Somehow baby… your grief and our connection to each other gave my soul the ability to recognize what it was…and the strength to fight it."

She frowned at the memory.

"I-I sort of got a glimpse, if you like, of what it planned. Then you interfered and it was stopped from taking me over the way it wanted. But, Willow, baby….” She shivered with the memory. “When it reached for me… I sensed how much it wanted Buffy’s body, that when Warren’s bullet failed to kill her instantly… it wanted to use me to finish the job.”


“B-but the… the first can’t possess people… can it?” stuttered Willow.

“Ok…There was Caleb… but he invited it… how could it...” confusion clouded her expression, “I mean… ah… how would it have taken over Buffy… or you?”


“Your right Will, it couldn’t” she admitted “not normally… except apparently in cases where there is already a demon present… or when a person’s soul leaves the body, at the moment of death.”


Willow paled. The look in Tara’s eyes as she explained, making her feel physically ill. Seeing that stricken expression on Tara’s face brought back all the emotions from that horrible day. It was only the sound of Tara’s voice that kept her grounded, kept her from breaking down as she remembered catching Tara’s body as the bullet took her life.


“Buffy’s demon,” explained Tara “that part of her essence that is the slayer is what would have made it possible. If Buffy’s soul left her body quickly enough, the first could have slipped in and taken control.
Remember, the soul is the essence of a person, good or bad. It’s the controlling force for all slayers, the thing that makes them human. If Buffy’s soul was gone then the first could have moved right in, just like vampire demons do when a human is turned. That’s why it orchestrated the shooting… it had to be a non-mystical death. As for it’s attempt to possess me… well it wouldn’t have lasted long… probably no more than a few minutes… because hello, demon free here. The First was desperate, it knew it had only a very small window of opportunity to get to her and finish what Warren had started. It’s only because of your interference that it didn’t get the chance.”


Her eyes swimming with sorrow she reached for her lover, seeking comfort in Willow’s arms as she told her the hardest part.

“God it was so hard Willow. I could sense you guys… but I couldn’t see you… and I had no way of letting you know I was still around.” She snuggled closer as she fought back the chill of her own words.

“Goddess sweetie, when I felt the finders keeper spell… I couldn’t believe it was you…” Tara trailed off, as the full import of the events of the night washed over her, and she buried her head in her lover’s shoulder.



Willow, weirdly enough, became strangely calm after hearing Tara’s story.

Somehow deep inside herself, in the place where the magic lived, she accepted that what Tara had told her was nothing more than the truth.


So that’s why the first never used your form to taunt me” she murmured in sudden understanding, “you weren’t really dead… so it couldn’t. God, Tara I’m so sorry…. I should have sensed something... I should have known somehow that you were still….”


No, Willow… baby don’t” ordered the blond firmly. “It doesn’t matter sweetie, all that matters is that you did the spell. Remind me to kiss the person responsible for that,” she said with a laugh, as she once again pulled Willow in to kiss her.



“Oh God Spike!”



“Well, not the name I expected you to be shouting my first hour back” grinned Tara with a touch of confusion, as Willow pulled herself from the others arms.



“NO, no it’s not… Spike… Spike is the one I did the spell for” stammered Willow, panic escalating as she quickly moved to Spike’s bedside.

She sighed in relief. He was ok... well not ok, but he wasn’t dust and he still seemed to be asleep... though it was hard to tell with a vamp. Satisfied that for the moment Spike was going to be ok, she turned back to Tara.


“Tara honey... I don’t have time to explain what’s going on” she mumbled, reaching past the other girl to grab her back pack.

Pulling some clothing from it she faced her former girlfriend, determination written in every line of her body.

“Let’s just say a lot has happened since you’ve been gone, and leave the rest till later, after we save Spike… ok?”



As Tara took the offered clothes and started dressing Willow turned back to the pentagram. With fingers crossed, she looked for the book that, in her joy at being reunited with the love of her life, had been forgotten.


Even as her eyes fell on the book, a small and up till now ignored thought crept into her head. Kennedy? What was she gonna tell Ken? I’ll think about that tomorrow, she thought with grim determination.


Scooping up the book and cradling it to her chest, she let out a sigh of relief.

She turned to show Tara her find, just in time to catch sight of her returned lover slipping the borrowed blouse over her head.


Willow’s breath caught in her throat and her stomach tightened with the familiar rush of desire.

Goddess, she looked so good, just like Willow remembered. She couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, when this was all over... Maybe she’d get the chance…



Tara’s eyes met hers and Willow’s heated musings slid to a stop. She felt the familiar blush rush to her already over heated cheeks. With one look at the knowing hunger in the blonde’s eyes, Willow had her answer. Oh yeah…. she was so gonna get that chance all right.


Shaking herself out of her Tara induced daze, she offered her the book and started to fill the other girl in on all that had happened since she’d received the call from Illyria.


“So you see baby... the spell was so I could get this... coz I remembered you telling me that there was lots of info on dragons in it… there is isn’t there?” She asked, grabbing the book in sudden panic.

“I remembered right didn’t I? This is the book?” she stammered worriedly, while flicking through the pages franticly.



Tara smiled, a rush of love surging through her at the sudden Willowness of her lover.

“It’s ok sweetie you can stop panicking” she soothed,” you remembered right… here, give me the book… it will be quicker if I find it” she teased with a grin.


Willow sagged in relief again, happily handing over the book to her love. And with it, some small part of the burden of worry she had carried, since arriving at the Hyperion.



Sitting down on the chair that Willow had vacated earlier, Tara waved a hand casually and fresh candles suddenly lit up the darkness surrounding her.

“Hmm…” she murmured, worrying her lip, a scowl briefly crossing her features, before her brow once again smoothed out.


“Yes well that would explain it” she mused aloud, before turning to meet the other witches expectant gaze.

“Okay, so this Illyria person you told me about, she was right. It seems that dragon’s fire and their saliva has pretty much the affect she told you”.

Tapping the book absentmindedly, Tara explained

“If Spike had been human, he most certainly would have died from his injuries by now, but with him being one of the fangy set it’s delayed the deterioration of his body. Don’t get me wrong sweetie” she said apologetically, registering the light of hope in Willow’s eyes. “Being a vamp has only slowed it some, not stopped it. And, if we cant f-find some sort of antidote soon then Spike... Spike will die.”



Her eyes met Willow’s with the steady determination in them that Willow now remembered was an intrinsic part of the calm blond.


“The good news is that there’s a spell in the book that might help him… if we can just work out the meaning of it, and find the ingredients… I-I think we can save him” finished Tara.



Turning the book towards Willow, she pointed out, from what Willow could see at a glance, was a short but cryptic spell.


Elixir of rebirth
Wine of the god
Essence of battle
And the heart of the source
Combine before the moon sets on the third day
And the curse of the dragon shall burn death away


“Ok, Cryptic… and badly rhymed, just what I needed” complained Willow with a frustrated sigh. “Do you have any idea what this means baby?”



Tara studied the verse carefully. The familiar line between her eyes so dear to Willow that for just a moment she forgot all about the text in front of them, overcome with a surge of love and amazement that left her knees shaking.

Somehow, the one thing she had never dreamed of, but never the less desired more than anything in her life had happened. A miracle had occurred. Tara had been given back to her.



Tara’s lips moved as she recited the words to herself. As though studying them without the sound of a voice would somehow make them give up their secrets. She glanced up at Willow.


And there it was, a small and uncertain light in her eyes, a look that Willow knew well.

Tara’s expression told Willow that her lover had an idea, but she was hesitant to broach it… in case it was wrong.


“What is it baby? Did you recognize something?”



“I-I’m not sure…” Tara ventured hesitantly, studying the spell again.

“I think… I think that all of the components are the same thing… except for the last… I just can’t work that one out.”


Frowning, she directed Willow’s attention to the first three lines.

“All of these phrases are familiar Will, all of them are poetic names for blood… at least that’s what I think they mean. Some of my mother’s oldest spell books call for the use of blood in certain spells and… and well… wine of the gods was the first one to ring a bell. But thinking about it, I’m pretty sure that the other two mean the same thing. Elixir and essence by themselves could mean lots of different things, but the way they’re structured in the sentence, and the fact that this spell is supposed to be one for healing dragon wounds? Well, it just makes sense that it’s talking about blood.”



Willow groaned, hitting herself in the head lightly.

“God I’m so stupid… baby, of course your right. Cos it’s always about the blood...” she mocked, her own earlier words ringing in her memory. Typical… in a cosmically ironic sort of sense. After all, Spike had first taught them that particular truth.


“Ok so it’s blood...” echoed Tara, her expression lightening. “So now we just have to work out whose blood”


“Ooh ohh I know… I’ve got it!” Willow squealed in sudden excitement.

“Well not all of it…. but I’m pretty sure that the elixir of rebirth probably refers to sire’s blood… which would mean Angel,” she offered with a triumphant grin.



“But sweetie” ventured Tara in confusion. “I thought that Angel was Spike’s grandsire? How, even if we had his blood, would that work? Isn’t Drusilla Spike’s sire?”


“Well yeah... technically she is” smirked Willow smugly.

“But… I did some reading, after the whole Spike using Angel to heal Dru deal, and I found out that sire’s blood works in two different ways. First, there’s the whole thing with Angel being the one who sired Drusilla so basically her blood is his. Therefore, it is also Spike’s… something to do with the whole line of Aurelius thing. Secondly, Cos Dru had a few bats loose in her belfry when she sired our little Spikey… it seems that the onus of sire hood fell to Angelus." He might not have been the one to do the actual turning, but he was the one that assumed the duties of Sire. So for all intents and purposes,” she finished triumphantly "When Angelus acknowledged Spike’s turning… and Dru was unable to do what ever it is that sire’s are supposed to do… Angelus in deed, if not in fact became his sire.”


“So… If Angel’s blood is one of the ingredients… then I gotta stop and wonder for a moment that there isn’t something a whole lot more than just coincidence going on here, Tara. Cos, It just so happens that Illyria brought me a whole bag of the stuff only last…”

Her words trailed off even as her face lit up with what Tara recognized as Willow’s version of the old light bulb going off over the head thing.


“Oh MY GOD!” She exclaimed “That’s it Tara… the other ingredient… it was right in front of me… Wine of the God… blood of a god… Illyria’s blood” stammered Willow, blanching at the sudden thought of just what the scary blue God was going to say when they asked her to donate.


“Uhh sorry babe you lost me there…” said Tara, puzzlement written large on her features.

“Are you telling me that a God brought you Angel’s blood, and that somehow we have to get her to give us hers?” head cocked questioningly she frowned.

“Umm… sweetie… Us and gods? Not so much with the fond memories there. You remember? You migraines... dark magic… me being all of the brain sucked?”

Tara shivered at the memory of Glory and her brief but deadly interaction with the hell god, before reaching for Willow’s hand in an attempt to quell her sudden uneasiness.



“No... um yes… well I don’t exactly know her, at least not like I knew Fred… but she’s been pretty helpful… when she wasn’t being all threatening and scary that is” Willow replied with a small shiver of her own.

“And… and she did save Spike… and call me... though when I come to think about it I’m not sure if that was Fred or Illyria?” she mused, a sudden thoughtful and somewhat worried look replacing her earlier optimistic one.



“Sweetie” cut in Tara, “you’re not making any sense. Your saying Fred helped? Isn’t she the girl that works for Angel? What does she have to do with God’s and this Illyria you keep talking about?” she questioned, now thoroughly confused.



“Oh, yeah sorry” offered Willow apologetically “you know my brain, always thinking out loud with out the sense making. Ok, I don’t know the whole story… Actually I don’t know any of the story” she shrugged.

“But, from what I’ve gathered, Fred somehow got possessed by this mega ancient God King… and somehow, her, Angel, Wesley, Gunn and Spike were in this really huge fight. And I’m not certain… but I think that she and Spike might have been the only ones to survive.”

Willow felt a pang in her heart as she admitted aloud what she feared was Angel’s and the others fate.



“God Will… Does Buffy know...” gasped Tara, shocked at Willow’s admission.

“I mean... this is Angel where talking about. I mean it’s great that Spike survived and all, though I still don’t understand what he was doing with Angel’s crew. B-But Angel? Wasn’t Angel the love of her life or something? Tara asked, concern for Buffy heavy in her tone.



“Oh boy, I keep forgetting how long you were gone” the red head sighed.



All at once, she was overwhelmed at how much Tara was truly a part of her, so much so that she’d just sorta forgot that Tara hadn’t been with her through that last terrible year in Sunnydale.



“Ok Baby… there’s a lot I’ve got to tell you about what went down after… after you were… while you were gone. But details, like everything else will have to wait for a better time and place. Long story short... you died… I went nut’s… tried to end the world. Xander stopped me… ergo… saved the world. And... oh yeah…. Spike went to Africa and got a soul. Then let’s see... The first evil opened the Hellmouth…I empowered all the potential slayers in the world… and Spike died closing the Hellmouth... in the process destroying Sunnydale.”




“OH... well...um ok…talk later… Definitely of the good” the blond breathed out in a stunned voice.

Frowning she turned and threw a pointed look towards the bed on which the vampire lay.


“Um Willow… if he died, how come he’s here in LA? And um… did you say he’s got a soul?”



“Yeah” Willow said wearily... “At least he did, before he burnt up in the crater that was Sunnydale. Though from his strong reaction to the suggestion that I tell Buffy he’s still alive… I’m guessing it’s still there.
And as to the how he’s here now?” she shrugged.

“You got me… your guess is as good as mine.”



“Uh Will…I think I just worked out the third ingredient we need for the spell” Tara offered, her voice full of trepidation as she took in the redhead’s words.

“You did?” Willow asked, hope clearly written in her expression.

That was right up until she took in the sad look on her lover’s face.

“Oh God, what is it Tara? Please tell me we can get it… it’s not like some impossible blood source… with a one of a kind deal like the Urn of Osiris is it?” she asked worriedly.



“Oh no Will” The blonde Wicca was quick to reassure.

“Actually… from what you said, it’s probably pretty common. It’s just I suspect it’s also really specific…” her eyes slid away from her girlfriends as she explained her theory.

“I think the essence of battle refers to slayer’s blood… but more importantly it would have to be like the rest of the ingredients... blood given by a slayer” she offered with a sad smile.

“Blood that has some sort of link to Spike... and that would be…”


“Buffy…” Willow stated flatly. “He needs Buffy’s blood.”

Her expression was bleak as she met Tara’s apologetic look.

“And Buffy’s in Rome. Even if she could get here in time, Spike would rather die than face her” finished Willow, voice despairing.

“Goddess, Tara… Spike as good as told me he’d dust himself rather than let me contact her… what am I gonna do baby? The spell says three days… and I’m not even sure how long Illyria and Spike were holed up here before they called me.”



“I don’t know Will... I don’t know what to tell you… but I do know we better think quick… because if we don’t work out the last part of the spell, and get Buffy here fast…. then Spike is gonna die…”



“Well ladies… you better get working on that last bit real quick” said the very pissed slayer standing in the doorway.

“Cos as soon as that stupid vamp is well enough I’m gonna stake his sorry sneaky lying ass.”

“Buffy?” squeaked Willow in shock. “Oh My God, Buffy? You’re here … and your…. um… not in Rome…”



Willow found herself stuttering with a mixture of relief and surprise, and ok a little fear too, the later mostly inspired by the deadly glare that Buffy was pinning her with.

“How… how did you know? How did you… I mean who told you? Cos you know I only found out myself yesterday… and um … oh look Buffy… hey Tara, look it’s Buffy…”



Tara took pity on her nervously babbling lover. Stepping forward, she smiled shyly as she moved towards her friend, at the same time blocking the slayer’s view of the agitated red head behind her.


She smiled timidly suddenly nervous of Buffy’s reaction to her presence.

Ducking her head she managed to get out, “Hey Buffy long time no see… so um, Rome hey? That must be really great?”



The Slayer, up until that moment had registered Tara’s presence as there, but to be thought about later. With Tara’s first tentative words she found her fury receding, as she looked into the eyes of someone she’d thought she’d never see again.


“Hey Tara… I’d say I’m surprised to see you… but considering the whole died twice deal and the not so dead vampire over there on the bed… well I’m not so much with the surprised thing these days.”

Her words were light and it was true that somehow she wasn’t as shocked at Tara’s presence as she should have been… cos hello angry here... she reminded herself. But still, she suddenly found herself choking down a rather large lump in her throat, as it hit her fully that it was really Tara standing in front of her.


“Oh God…” She gasped as a horrible thought suddenly occurred to her.



Tara, seeing the expression on Buffy’s face, quickly interpreted her look and interrupted before any wrong ideas and hurtful words could get thrown about.

“It’s ok B...Buffy I-I wasn’t there... Willow didn’t she w-wouldn’t... Not again.” Tara explained hastily.

“I-it was sort of an accident… but a really good one!” she stuttered out, glancing back over her shoulder at her nervous lover.

“A-aft- after Warren… you know” meeting Buffy’s suddenly understanding gaze, she smiled sadly “I-I kinda got trapped … in the Hellmouth and… and Willow was doing this spell to help Spike an-and she... she released me. She didn’t know.” Tara blurted in her rush to make everything ok. “Willow had no idea tha-that I was still… still there… please… please don’t be mad at her Buffy… please.”



Buffy searched the blond witch’s face carefully, and with a sudden glad rush of warmth found that she did believe it was an accident. And not only because of Tara’s explanation, but because even with her anger at Willow over the whole keeping her out of the loop deal, she knew deep down inside that her friend would never do that again, especially not to someone she loved as much as she loved Tara.



Just as she was about to reach forward and embrace her newly returned friend there was a sudden flurry of movement in the doorway as Dawn came barreling into the room.



“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD...” shrieked the teen.
“Quick Buffy, there’s this freaky blue demon thing chasing me and I-I...” Tara?” she squealed.

“Oh shit! Buffy it’s the First”, yelped Dawn taking in the presence of the blond standing between Willow and her sister.

“Oh my God, we’re gonna die” she wailed, head whipping back towards the door, just in time to see the arrival of Illyria.



Buffy turned quickly, instantly becoming THE slayer upon sight of the blue demon framed in the doorway.

Pushing her still panicky sister behind her, she reached into the waistband of her pants for her ever-present stake. Assuming a defensive position, she readied herself for the demons attack.



Illyria, reacting to the power radiating from the small blonde, dropped into a defensive crouch herself. Her icy gaze locked to the slayers.



Buffy studied the being before her warily; waiting for her to indicate the direction she would attack before moving herself.

Her slayer senses were going crazy in the presence of the blue creature. They were telling her that this demon was powerful…. maybe too powerful for a slayer that hadn’t fought or really even trained in nearly a year.

Just as she’d decided the waiting was getting old and attacking first might be of the good, Willow was suddenly between her and the blue whatever the hell she was.




“NO STOP… Buffy its ok.”

Willow carefully placed her hand on her friends arm, hoping that she could calm the slayer before the violence she could sense erupted between her friend and the God King.

Turning her attention back to the blue demon, she made sure her body blocked that of the slayer from Illyria’s view.

“Illyria… they’re friends Illyria… friends of mine… and of Spike’s.”

A gentle squeeze on Buffy’s arm had the slayers momentary attention.

“Buffy this is Illyria, she’s the one who saved Spike. Illyria this is…”



“Buffy”

The name was spat with arrogant contempt. However it was Illyria’s next words that made Willow tense, waiting for Buffy’s reaction.


“You are the one who crushed the vampires heart and spirit… the being that is responsible for the blasphemy you call his soul… the slayer.”



Buffy did a double take at Illyria’s words, not sure whether to be offended or just really pissed off.

Sheesh... how was it everyone knew who she was and she knew buptkis. God, how annoying was that?

She took a step forward, gently maneuvering Willow out of the way, every muscle in her body tightening in preparation for battle. The Slayer and the former God locked gazes again, silent challenge in both their eyes.

Illyria’s flicked to the prone form of Spike, then back again before she once again addressed the slayer.

“The vampire has spoken of you Slayer... you are important to him. His feelings for you though are of no consequence, I am Illyria and I will not hesitate to destroy you if you harm my pet in any way. He did not want you here… but he values your existence so I will not end you as I should. You will leave now and take the small annoying one with you.”




Before Buffy could even formulate a reply to the blue demon’s order, Dawn shot out from behind her sister, indignant anger making her blue eyes even bigger in her still pale face.

“Hey! Listen you blue freak… who are you calling annoying? I’m not the one who’s creeping around this dumb hotel like a...”


“Dawn… shut up”

The command came from both Buffy and Willow but it was the expression in her sister’s eyes that decided her. She closed her mouth with a snap, arms folded mutinously across her chest. Never the less, she did take a step back until she was behind her sister.



“Uh, let me think,” drawled Buffy, eyebrow arched. The mocking smile belying the fury simmering in her gaze.

“Hmm… ok, that would be a great big NO. Spike, may or may not want me here, but until I hear it from his lips I’m staying until he wakes up.”



Buffy, unknowingly imitating Dawn, crossed her own arms over her chest with a very similar expression.

Leaning back, she supported her weight on one leg, to the casual observer seemingly outwardly relaxed. Like she had all the time in the world… and the fact that an amazingly powerful… whatever the fuck she was…. hadn’t just threatened her and her sister, never mind the ordering them to leave part.



The expression on Illyria’s face (what sort of name was that anyhow?) grew even colder if possible, and she tensed waiting for the other to make her move.



It was Willow who broke the stalemate.


“Oh for Goddess sake people, we don’t have time for this… Spike doesn’t have time for this.”

Impatience coated her voice, but it was edged with something that Buffy responded too far quicker than the witches scolding tone. Fear.

Willow was scared... she was scared for Spike, and that more than anything had Buffy letting down her guard.



Forgetting Illyria and the threat of her presence, her eyes shot to the bed where Spike lay.




When Buffy had first entered the room she had been far too angry and distracted by Willow’s words to focus on anything else. It was only now as the resurging threat of his loss hit her again that she realized how damaged he really was.



When she had looked at him earlier her glance had been cursory, her slayer, and more importantly her Spike senses telling her without looking that he was present and still in the land of the undead.


Now for the first time she really looked, and what she saw had her stumble in shock.



She had seen Spike beaten (hell she’d done most of the beating herself, truth be told) and she’d seen him tortured, but she had never seen anything like she was seeing now.

If it hadn’t been for her Slayer senses she might have even doubted it was him.



Moving close to the side of the bed, her hand came up to cover her mouth. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if it was to smother the scream that was threatening to burst forth, or to stop herself from vomiting.


His beautiful face was nearly unrecognizable… and Oh God his eyes… those eyes that had always seen everything so clearly… his beautiful blue eyes. They were so damaged that she knew instantly that he was blind.



Tears rolled down her cheeks, blurring her vision as her eyes trailed down, flinching at the damage to his mouth. The mouth that kissed her and so often cut her with it’s harsh words.

They traveled across his burnt and bitten chest, to the ruin that was his arm.

Her eyes took it all in… every scratch, bite and charred part of him. From the burnt stubble on his head, to the broken legs that seemed to be the least of his injuries.

Finally, when she had examined him as though it was some sort of penance that she had to endure, she turned back to face the witches and the demon.



Tears drying on her cheeks, she called up every ounce of her courage as the slayer and concentrated on mastering control of her emotions, determined to be strong… for him.


“You said he needs blood. My blood” she asked grimly.

“Fine not a problem… now, what else does he need and who do I have to kill to get it?”




Willow shivered at the look in her best friend’s eyes, her gaze darting briefly to Illyria, before turning back to the pages of the book that she still clasped like a shield to her chest.


“Um… it’s not that simple Buff. Ok, we’re pretty sure that blood is the ingredient needed… yours and Angel’s.”

Willow flinched at the sudden despairing look on the slayer’s face at the mention of her first love.

“And… and thanks to Illyria we even have some… it was with the supplies she brought me from Wolfram and Hart…”


At the blank look on her friend’s face Willow rushed on with her explanation.

“You see Illyria was the one who contacted me and asked me to help Spike. So when she realized that I was going to need blood for him, she went to the place Angel used to work and got me the stockpile they kept for”…her brow furrowed quizzically “well actually I’m not really sure why they kept it” she admitted. “But they did, and lucky for us Angel seems to have been one of the donors.

So Angels blood check… you’re here, so obviously second ingredient, check. It’s just that…” she swallowed nervously. “Well it seems that the other blood ingredient is… um…”

Darting a worried look at the impassive figure of Illyria, she took a deep breath. “the other ingredient… it’s… that is… we think… it’s Illyria’s…um… blood” Willow gulped, crossing her fingers as she blurted out the rest.

“At least the book mentions wine of the God… and well since she’s the only God around at the moment then it’s a pretty safe bet to say she’s it.”




“She’s a WHAT?” Buffy exclaimed, eyes flying to the blue demon, instantly back on the defensive at the realization that the power she’d felt coming off the other was the power of a God.

Her eyes narrowed as she studied the newly revealed God, appraising her for any signs of weakness that she might be able to exploit to her advantage, should it come down to a fight.




Willow’s head hurt. The strain of the earlier magic, on top of Buffy’s arrival, and having to explain to her best friend that the only hope she has to save the man she loved, might hinge on the willingness of a God’s cooperation… it made her brain feel like it might explode if she didn’t sort this out pretty damn quick.


“Well technically she’s a God King I suppose… but I’m a bit hazy on the details. All I know is that she used to be Fred and now she’s Illyria... who is… was a demon God King. Look, Buffy” she said wearily “it doesn’t matter whether Illyria agrees or not… we still haven’t worked…”




“I will permit it Willow Rosenberg.”



Willow blinked dumbly as her tired eyes alighted on the form of blue God, her abrupt words startling the witch.

“Um… well um … that’s… that’s really good…uh, thanks…” she managed to stutter, before once again being interrupted by the object of her disjointed gratitude.



“The vampire must survive… I vowed to help him if I could. You say that this ones blood is needed” she stated, her cold stare traveling contemptuously over the slayer. “Then she may stay. I too will give what is needed. Wesley… Wesley would want me to keep the half-breed from perishing. I will tolerate the slayer’s presence… for now”


Eyes glittering as they bore into Willow’s, her tone became threatening. “But know this… if he dies witch… you and all you hold dear will pay the price.”



Willow’s gaze became riveted on the former God, as with the threat, her voice suddenly changed as it had on the phone earlier.

Again the two voices twined around each other sounding strangely like an echo, as both Fred and Illyria seemed to fight to be heard.


“I miss him Willow… Wesley, oh God… Wesley. I grieve for him... I cannot stand this pain…He’s gone… my love is gone… we are alone… even together. My strength… my love… my life… my power… ahh, how can we endure? You will do this thing for us witch…”



For a moment the form of Illyria seemed to flicker and then it was Fred who met the witch’s anguished gaze.



“God… thank God, y’all are here!” she sobbed.

“Please Willow, do it for me. I can’t control her… if he dies, she’ll kill you all. I-I don’t understand what’s going on Willow… but her grief… our grief for Wesley it connects us somehow.”

Her eyes shot up to meet Willow’s.

“No… don’t come any closer” she ordered, as the red head witch took a tentative step towards her.

“Please… I don’t know how long I can hold my thoughts together, and she’s very angry… very lost.”

Eyes welling with tears, Fred’s face twisted in anguish as she tried to convey all that she was feeling.

“I- I’m not her… I’m not really Fred… I-I think I’m what’s left of her…. her memories… her experience… her emotions. God, everything is so strange. This body... this shell… it wasn’t made to contain the essence of a God... it wasn’t strong enough. Angel and the others… they… they did something… something to leach her power… to make her less. But Willow, they changed her somehow. They changed her, and made this shell more capable of being her vessel, and by doing it they changed her mind as well as her power… I’m not Fred.” She breathed out raggedly, her eyes begging Willow for something the witch couldn’t begin to understand.

“No-not Fred… but she is no longer Illyria… we are becoming…. something else… something new.”

The look in Fred’s wide brown eyes was one that Willow knew she would carry to the end of her days. Never had she seen a being so lost.



“Y’all have to save Spike… he’s the only one that knows what they did… the only one who might know what to do… how to help us… how to make us…”

Her head wrenched back, a sudden scream pulled from her gaping mouth as Illyria once again took over.



Fred’s eyes rolled back in her head and then hardened like ice crystals as her flesh paled and turned blue.

Seconds later the body armor shimmered into place and they were once again faced with the visage of the God King.

Giles rubbed his eyes wearily with the heels of both hands. Glasses dangling from his mouth, he attempted to ease the tension and the beginnings of the headache that had been looming ever since his earlier talk with Andrew.

Turning towards his companion, he gathered his tired wits together and concentrated on helping find a taxi to take them all to the Hyperion.

“Good God” he complained loudly “why is there never a bloody taxi when you need one?”

“I dunno Giles” his dark haired companion offered with a shrug. “Uh… maybe the girls had some luck at the rental desk…. How long can a coffee break take anyway?”

“Bloody hell.” cursed Giles impatiently “We don’t have time for this.
Willow is still missing, and God knows what has happened to Angel and the others.” He rubbed his eyes wearily. “I can only hope my fears are groundless, and Willow hasn’t gone and done something exceedingly stupid. We need to get to the Hyperion now…”

“You mean” came the wry interruption. “Like rushing off to LA in the middle of the night to help a maybe evil vampire, who may or may not be dead?”

“Yes quite” Giles muttered in frustration, as yet another cab ignored his frantic hail. “Bollocks… Right that’s it. Xander, go and find Faith and the others. Then meet me at the car park in 10 minutes. And for God sake don’t dawdle; if Marie insists on going to the loo again tell her to hold it.”

“Um Ok G man… 10 minutes… got ya, even if it means Marie embarrassing herself… right before she pounds my face in.” he added under his breath.

Xander left Giles and headed off in the direction of the rental car desk, muttering darkly about slayers with small bladders and even smaller tempers, and how you’d think super bladders would be part of the whole slayer package.



Giles’ mind swirled with all the possibilities that could or might happen if, and when, they found Willow and the others.

He was worried for the young witch; he hadn’t been completely honest with Xander and the younger slayers. Only Faith knew that there was a very good chance that Angel and his team were dead, and that more than likely Buffy was on her way here.

Giles however, had kept one very important fact to himself. He’d told the others about the woman and the vampire that had been seen leaving the alley behind Angel’s hotel. And it was true that both were most likely part of Angel’s crew. But what he’d neglected to mention to the others was that the woman who was described as being demonic and a rather strange blue color was not seen with a vampire matching Angel’s description, but Spike’s.

Of course, he’d known for months that Spike was back. His sources in LA had mentioned with increasing frequency the addition of a bleached blond vampire that had joined Angel’s team shortly after the Hellmouth’s destruction. Giles had kept the fact of Spike’s resurrection to himself, especially after the whole Dana incident.

When he’d first heard of the vampire’s return he had been wary, not sure whether to tell Buffy and the others about it. But when he learned that Angel was running Wolfram and Hart without duress he became even more alarmed. Not knowing if the older vampire was still playing on the same side or whether he had succumbed to the lure of evil.

After the whole Dana mess it had only made him more determined that Buffy not learn of Spike’s return, at least not until he was sure whose side Spike was on.

He wasn’t stupid, he had seen the grieving Buffy had tried so hard to hide from all of them, but he was wary of putting her in a position like the one she’d had to face when Angel lost his soul. So he’d kept his own council and done what watchers do, he’d waited and watched.

Then three days ago, the word had come down. Angel had turned upon the senior partners, and demons from miles around were massing for the final battle in LA.

Still Giles had held back, not wanting to put Buffy or the others in the path of something they knew very little about… and now it just might be too late.

God… if he was right? Everybody they had known in LA was dead, and if Giles was wrong about Spike and Angel… then… well, Buffy would never forgive him.

So he was here in LA with Xander, Faith and three slayers that he hardly knew, on the pretext of finding a missing witch and a vampire that they had very little to do with over the past few years. He just prayed that the information he’d received was correct and it was Spike that had been seen… because if it wasn’t and he had to tell Buffy that both the vampires she’d loved were dead, he didn’t think she’d survive it.

His sense of urgency increasing, Giles scanned the car park for what he was looking for… ah there… that should do nicely. Moving silently and avoiding the light cast by the many lampposts scattered within the area, he moved stealthily towards his target.



Eight minutes and one small spell later, Giles carefully pulled the large blue minivan over to the edge of the curb in front of the waiting party of slayers and one ex construction worker.

“Quickly, get in… Oh for God sake… Marie, not now, you will have to wait.”

Exactly 60 seconds later girls and gear stowed, he pulled out of the airport terminal with a heartfelt sigh of relief.


“Hey G!” purred an amused Faith “Wanna tell us where you managed to find the large shiny van in the middle of the night… cos I’m pretty sure rental companies around here don’t rent out vans with plates from Texas.”

She smirked as she leaned forward between Giles and Xander seats. Lowering her voice, she met the watcher’s eyes in the rear-view mirror.

“So G man, you gonna tell us where you learnt to hot wire a car? And why we’re in so much of a dam hurry that we couldn’t wait for the rental chick to come back from her break.”


Xander’s mouth opened in shock, as he looked from her to Giles and back again. “Whaat? You… we… YOU stole a car?”


“Oh do be quiet Xander” muttered Giles, throwing a worried look into the rear-view mirror at the young slayers huddled sleepily in back.

“Faith” he growled warningly, his voice pure Ripper as he looked away from his young charges and took in the amusement on her face. Muttering “Heaven give me strength” at the sight of the slack jawed former construction worker, he threw Faith his dirtiest look. Not for the first time, cursing her irreverent need to stir the pot.


“Xander” he sighed “Please do close your mouth, it is most unattractive when you gape like that. Yes, I stole a car; no I did not hot-wire it… if you must know I used a spell. And before you panic, I checked the valet ticket and the car will be back before anyone even knows it’s gone, not that anyone will” he offered somewhat smugly “The glamor I did will take care of that.”

“As to the hurry, well I suppose it’s as you would say… time to come clean. We will be there in a few minutes.”

“The first thing I should tell you is that the vampire I’m hoping we will find at the Hyperion is more than likely not Angel… in all probability it is most likely to be in actual fact, Spike, so…”

“Hold up there watcher man” interrupted Xander with an incredulous frown. “You didn’t hit your head when you were stealing the car did you? Cos I hate to break the news… but Spike is dead… or at least deader than usual. Shiny amulet thingie, the whole saving the world and going poof in the Hellmouth thing ring any bells?”


“No I did not hit my head” Giles sighed wearily with more than a hint of frustration.

“Yes… I remember quite well what happened in Sunnydale. However, it seems that Spike was somehow resurrected shortly after his… how did you put it? Oh yes…. his going poof. Moreover, not only is he back, there is reason to believe he has been working with Angel for nigh on a year. And before you start with the questions… don’t bother…. that, I’m afraid is the extent of my Spike related knowledge.”


“Hell!” Faith sniggered “Doesn’t anyone stay dead anymore?” She shook her head ruefully, before cursing herself as she took in the parade of emotions flowing across the one eyed man’s face.

“Oh God, I’m sorry Xan I guess I wasn’t thinking.” She swore at herself under her breath. Fuck! Where the hell was her brain, cos it sure as hell wasn’t in charge of her mouth at the moment.


Xander’s answering smile was a strange mixture of bitterness and sorrow as he turned his gaze on the first girl he had ever slept with.

“It’s ok Faith… Ahn would have said exactly the same thing if she was here. And well, if Spike really is back in the land of the living, then I guess it’s of the good. It’s nice to know that Buffy is gonna finally be happy again.” He offered with a melancholy smile.

At the look of shock on her face, he grinned, distracted by the fact that he’d successfully ruffled Faith’s feathers with his last comment.

“Hey, missing an eye people… not a brain. I’d have to be completely blind to miss the fact that Buffy has been grieving for Spike ever since he died. Hell! The guy saved the world for her… in my book that pretty much gives her the best reason in the world to miss him. I mean for Pete’s sake.” He added with a wide grin “Anya only saved Andrew… and I still miss her everyday.”


His attempt to lighten the already sombre mood in the van brought a smile to Faith’s lips, and even Giles felt a slight lessening of tension, his shoulders relaxing under the relief of Xander’s admission.

“Yes well, before you start getting too happy, I suppose I should tell you that Spike is undoubtedly gravely wounded and Buffy is most likely on her way here. And I suppose it won’t hurt to also confirm that the coven definitely pinpointed Willow’s whereabouts’ as being here in LA, so it seems that our missing witch is not as missing as it first seemed. And… Ah good, it seems we have arrived” said Giles, cutting short his explanation.



As he pulled to the curb the distinct outline of the Hyperion hotel loomed over them.
.
“Faith, I want you to brief the girls and let them know that under no circumstances are they to leave this van unless the signal is given.
Not even for toilet breaks” he muttered, throwing a meaningful glare at the Italian slayer who was looking rather fidgety in the back. “If she has to go, for pity sake take her down the road to the diner, but don’t under any circumstances come in to the hotel without my signal... is that clear?”

“As crystal G… so tell me again why I came? Cos baby-slayer sitting? Not large with the fun.”


Xander sniggered and Giles found himself with the sudden urge to clean his glasses. The annoyed and reproving glare directed at him by the dark slayer making him wish longingly for the days before the Master, when Buffy and the Hellmouth were his biggest concern. Thinking briefly that the fighter pilot thing would have been far better for his blood pressure, he directed his sternest look towards his belligerent charge.

“You are here Faith, in case there is trouble. Need I remind you that barging in to a situation, when we have no real conception of whom or what is involved would be foolhardy at best?” At her slightly abashed look, his tone gentled.

“Xander and I will go in, and when and if we need backup, which I vehemently hope will not be the case, we will signal you and the others. As to why I’m taking Xander,” he volunteered, correctly interpreting the sudden look of annoyed speculation on Faith’s face.
“Well as Willow’s best friend, and let’s face it” he said, throwing an apologetic smile in the boys direction “the least intimidating among the collective group, I feel that he is far less likely to get me killed than going charging in with a bunch of post adolescent slayers.”


Faith frowned briefly, then in typical Faith fashion shrugged.

“S’cool G, but I’m warning you now, if you and Xander leave me alone with that lot” tossing her head she indicated the girls huddled in the rear of the van “Then you might be down a couple of the more annoying ones when you come back.” she snarked “Specially that Meg chick,” she muttered, “I swear the little cow is related to Kennedy, she just gets on my last nerve.”


Xander did his best to stifle yet another snigger as Giles took off his glasses and started cleaning them at a furious pace, the harried look on his face not helped by his owlish squinting.

Looking at Faith he replaced the glasses and gave her what Xander liked to think of as his watcher look.

“If all is well then you can trust that we shan’t be any longer than the time it takes to … oh say…. kill at least one of them…”he offered drolly.
“Though I would prefer it if you could leave the majority of them uninjured… just in case we need them to… I don’t know…. fight” he finished, sarcasm now flowing freely.

“Look Faith,” he sighed his tone softening “I realize you are worried, and concerned for Angel, but getting belligerent and difficult is not going to help matters. The girls will listen to you, and if anything happens to Xander or myself it is you that will most likely be the one that makes the difference if it comes to battle. Apart from that I can only reiterate what I said before. Taking Xander in with me is the logical way to go, especially as we don’t know whether Willow has been coerced into being here, or whether Spike is actually the vamp that was seen”

Headache suddenly worse, he rubbed his brow distractedly.

“There is also the matter of the person that was seen accompanying said vampire, she or it are an unknown quantity and I feel it behooves us to be cautious.” Meeting her still mutinous gaze he attempted to make her understand, his next words brooking no argument.

“I won’t risk putting a possible ally on the defensive by taking a battle ready slayer in there, at least” he added firmly. “Not until we know what is happening… do you understand?”


Faith rolled her eyes, her sullen gaze flicking towards the back of the van. “Fine” she grunted. “But if you get all dead don’t come whining to me” she added before turning to address the younger slayers in the back.

“Okay, you lot listen up. We are gonna be stuck in this tin can for the next little while, while G and Xan go do their white hat thing… so rule number one… don’t piss me off. Rule number two…. shut it and keep your ears and eyes open. Rule number three… if you gotta go… hold it.” The last was said with a particular nasty glare directed at the Italian slayer. “Rule number four…. Don’t piss me off by disobeying the first three. Any questions... NO... good.”

“Right then G have fun…. and Xan, try not to get killed… ok?” She gave each man a particularly saccharin smile before hunching down in her seat. Tilting her head back against the headrest, she shut her eyes in an obvious gesture of annoyed avoidance.


Giles gestured to Xander indicating that they should get going while the going was good, and both men quietly and as unobtrusively as possible exited the van.

“Holy hell! What the shit was that?”

“Dawn!”

The slayer glared at the younger girl with obvious annoyance.

“Less of the potty mouth and more of the quiet would be of the good right about now.” With a final dark look at her sister, Buffy turned to Willow and Tara.

“So splainy? What’s with the presto scitzo? Cos I gotta say, that just totally wigged me out.”

Watching Illyria out of the corner of her eye, she waited for one of the two witches to explain (to steal Dawn’s inappropriate phrase) what the shit she’d just seen.


Tara’s troubled gaze met Buffy’s before she too turned to look at the red headed Wicca, signifying that she too was clueless.


Willow sighed deeply and then shrugged. “Got absolutely nooo idea. Near as I can tell, which you probably figured out already, something went a little wacky with the whole possession thing and somehow or other Fred and Illyria sorta got a timeshare deal going. The changy thing? Well Illyria did that earlier, but I get the feeling that this time it wasn’t her doing the driving… apart from that… I got nothing” she offered shrugging again.

“Anyway guys not to be all repeato girl but can we worry about the whole Fred slash Illyria thing later? Cos again… running out of time here…”


Buffy contemplated Willow’s words while she studied the strangely still form of the blue god. Weighing up the facts, she came to the conclusion that Willow was right. It didn’t matter what was going on with her, all that mattered was finding a way to help Spike.

Pushing her inner slayer down she let the woman step forward… the woman who was extremely worried for her ex-lover.

“K, right, let’s have a look at the spell then… we got the blood so what else do we need?”


Tara and Willow shared a look before Tara handed Buffy the small book the two witches had been studying when Buffy first arrived.


“Elixir of rebirth…” muttered Buffy “Ok, got that… Angel’s blood. Wine of the god… Illyria’s obviously. Essence of battle…. mine of course. Ok so this bit, the bit about the heart of the source? What the frick’s that mean? Any ideas?” she asked, shooting a look at the witches.

Her eyes widened at the next line.

“Shit guys…” her tone suddenly worried. “If I’m reading this right… the whole ‘Combine before the moon sets on the third day’ thing… then that means Spike has three days to live from the time of the battle. So how much time do we have left?”


She turned her panicked gaze on Willow praying that the young witch would tell her not to worry, that they had plenty of time, even as her heart sank at the miserable look on her best friend’s face.

Willow opened her mouth, intending to somehow reassure Buffy, but before she could speak, Illyria once again interrupted.


“Today is the third day…. moonrise tonight shall bring an end to the vampire if you do not find the cure. You will cease this useless prattle and restore him… or I swear by the powers of the old ones you will share his fate.” With that, she turned sharply, averting her face and lapsing into a threatening silence.


Buffy bristled at the God kings words and tone, but the knowledge that Spike had only hours to live overwhelmed any real anger she might have felt at the others threat.


“Um guys, can I have another look at the book?” asked Tara tentatively.


Passing the book to her, Buffy tried to read the expression on the others face.

Was that a glimmer of excitement she could see in her friends’ eyes or just wishful thinking on her part?


“What is it baby? Did you think of something?” asked Willow, her own worried gaze resting heavily on the book in Tara’s hands.

“I-I’m not sure Will… there’s something…Goddess I know this… I just can’t seem to remember. Heart of the source? Heart of the source… let me think… ok the blood has to come from sources close to Spike? But the whole cryptic thing is actually really literal when you come down to it… so that probably means that the heart is also literal? But the source?”

Tara’s brow furrowed in concentration as she stared at the words on the page as if looking at them long enough would make them give up their secrets.


Buffy could feel her heart beating heavily in her chest. Fear and hope waring with each other as she clenched her fists impotently. Praying that Tara would find the answer to the riddle before time ran out. Her mind refused to even consider what she would do if she lost Spike again so soon after finding out he was still alive.


When the silence was finally broken, it was by the last person they expected.

“Could it be the dragon?” Dawn ventured timidly. “Cos the vision showed a dragon and the wounds are from the dragon so shouldn’t that mean...”


“Oh my God Dawnie, you’re brilliant,” shrieked Willow, throwing her arms around the younger girl.


“Ye-Yes of course… The heart of the source” gasped Tara. “How could I have been so stupid? The source of his injuries and the heart. The answer was staring us all in the face. We need the dragon’s heart to complete the spell.”


“Um, guys?” interrupted Dawn “Not to be a killjoy or anything but um aren’t dragons like pretty impossible to kill? You know with the whole flying and fire breathing thing.”


Willow’s face fell and even Tara looked worried at her words, but when Dawn looked at her sister, her expression was one Dawn knew well.

Grim determination shone in the eyes of the slayer, the very same look Dawn had seen last as they entered the Hellmouth to do battle with the first. Dawn felt something inside herself shift and let go at the expression on her sister’s face. And with it, the fear and worry she had felt clutching at her heart disappeared.

The slayer was here, and the slayer would not lose… the dragon was going down.


Buffy turned in one fluid movement and faced the impassive figure of Illyria. Her voice when she spoke was one of power and command, the tone of a battle-hardened warrior that had never known the possibility of defeat.


“Where was it last seen? Take me there, now.”




It had been less than a minute since Buffy and the blue God king had left to return to the scene of the A I crew’s last battle.

Dawn suddenly realized that nobody had bothered to explain just how she happened to be standing in the room with a person she had last seen lying dead on the floor of her mother’s bedroom.


Willow had moved across the room to check on the still unconscious vampire, leaving a strangely shy and timid Dawn to stare at the smiling young woman that now stood less than a foot away from her.


“Hey Dawnie… you ok?” asked Tara, her expression concerned as she took in the look on the ex-key’s face. “I know this has gotta be sorta a shock to you… me being alive and all, but I promise you sweetie it’s really me” said Tara, correctly interpreting Dawn’s hesitant expression.


“But you died... I saw… I mean I-I was the one that… that found you… and you... you. Warren… Warren shot you… and there… was... was blood and… Oh my God Tara… How… how is this possible?”

Dawn crumpled at the look on the blonde’s face, but Tara was there to catch her. Dawn’s legs gave out under the rush of disbelieving joy, making her head suddenly light with relief.

“Oh God, Tara, I missed you so much” she sobbed, breaking down. “And… and Willow… God, Willow went all dark side of the force on us and Spike left, and… and, oh God, you’re here and I missed you so so much” gasped out Dawn, as the familiar touch of the blonde witch released the last of her doubts.


“Shh Dawnie, its all gonna be ok” Tara soothed, rocking the younger girl in her arms.

“None of that matters now… and we will have plenty of time to talk about all that happened… there’s lots of stuff I need to tell you guys. Willow knows most of it, but it can wait, at the moment I think that we need to focus on Spike and the healing spell.”

As she knew it would, the mention of Spike’s name had the desired effect and Dawn visibly shook off the emotion and shock of seeing yet another resurrected friend, to focus on the original reason for her being there in the first place.


“Oh my God Spike” she gasped“ I forgot to even ask… is he ok… I mean obviously he’s not ok but…” Her voice trailed off as her eyes that had been franticly searching the room for the vampire’s presence suddenly found the object of her concern.


“S-Spike” she whimpered as she took in the sight of the man she had mourned for since his death in the Hellmouth.


Tara, taking in the devastated look on the young girl’s face, flinched inwardly as she too examined the damage to the vampire that up till now she had been far too distracted by her own resurrection and the arrival of Buffy to properly study.


Dawn was sobbing silently as the two friends moved closer to the vampire that they had both considered a friend, when the other Scoobies had still seen him as, at best, an annoyance.


“Oh sweet Goddess” breathed out Tara.

Unlike Willow she managed to control the urge to vomit at the sight of his wounds.

Dawn wasn’t so lucky… she gagged twice and bolted from the room, leaving a shocked Tara to stare at the nearly destroyed vampire with horror. Unable to fathom how anyone, supernatural or not, could possibly still be alive with the amount of damage he had suffered.

Ok, so technically he wasn’t alive… but still, how the hell he had held on for nearly three days was both a horror and a miracle, one that Tara found herself hoping would continue long enough for Willow to do the spell.


“Yeah it’s pretty bad” came Willow’s quiet murmur taking in the tear-filled look on her lover’s face. “But Spike... he’s strong... well stubborn really, if anyone can make it, it’ll be him.”


Tara sighed heavily as she felt Willow take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze before turning back to once again check Spike’s many injuries.

“Goddess Will, he must be in so much pain… is there anything I can do?” she asked the red head.


Willow smiled softly, thinking to herself that it was just like Tara to be more focused on someone else’s pain than worrying about the fact that she’d been dead less than and hour before.


“I dunno sweetie… I’ve done everything I can think of to ease his pain…maybe if you just sit with him and hold his hand… maybe knowing someone is here for him if he wakes up… well it couldn’t hurt” replied Willow, her worried gaze swinging back to the vampire on the bed.


And that’s where Tara was when 20 minutes later a tired looking Giles and rumpled Xander burst into the room.

Buffy and Illyria entered the alley behind the Hyperion, both
of them on high alert for the dragon.

There had been no words exchanged since Buffy’s earlier request to show her where the dragon had been seen last. Illyria had led and Buffy had followed, both of them focused on their need to find the dragon before Spike’s time ran out.

The alley itself was littered with the corpses of a staggering amount of different species of demons. Buffy wasn’t even sure she recognized half of the breeds lying dead around her.

She was brought up short as Illyria halted suddenly; her gaze resting on what Buffy could see was a human body. When she turned her gaze to the blue demon’s face, she wasn’t much surprised to see Fred’s soft eyes filled with tears. It was only then that Buffy recognized the dead man, Charles Gunn, one of Angel’s crew.

She remembered being introduced to him when they had briefly stopped in LA to let the AI crew know what had happened in Sunnydale.

Even as Illyria’s features and demeanor returned Buffy found herself hoping again that by some miracle Angel had made it, she couldn’t bear to think that she might be walking through his dust even now.

She was pulled abruptly from her worried thoughts, by the sound of Illyria hissing sharply to duck, just as a huge winged shape swept over their heads.

Holy Crap!…

Well who knew that they weren’t exaggerating about the whole size factor thingie.

Just once she would have loved it if the stories had all been testosterone driven fantasies, and dragons were just really, really big lizards.

But no, it seemed that the stories were right on the money. Big... well, huge would be a better word, and very, very ugly in a scaly glowing eyes and sharp fanged kind of way.

The dragon had landed at the very end of the alleyway, and for the moment didn’t seem to have noticed either herself or Illyria.

Signaling the blue god that she was going to try to get closer to the creature, she started to move stealthily towards it, hugging the wall, and using the larger demon corpses to shield her advance.

She was less than twenty meters away when she felt Illyria grab her wrist and pull her down low behind a looming dumpster.

Illyria didn’t speak she just pointed and Buffy felt her heart freeze at the sight that greeted her.

The dragon had settled wraping its tail around itself, and it quickly became apparent to both observers that it was feeding on the corpses of the nearest demons. That, while being way high on Buffy’s disturbo meter, wasn’t the worst of it.

Her eyes were fixated on the very familiar figure that lay at the base of the pile of bodies that the dragon had obviously picked out as it’s main course.

It was Angel…

“Jesus” she breathed out under her breath. Both relieved to see he wasn’t dust and at the same time horrified that he was about to become a dragon’s dinner.

Her eyes met the blue gods and without words they both acknowledged that they had to get him away from the feeding monster before he woke up and alerted it to his still mostly undead state.

God Angel, great time to need rescuing, came the somewhat disgruntled and disloyal thought.

She signaled to Illyria that she was going to try to draw the dragon’s attention and to be ready to move.

Buffy stood slowly, carefully maneuvering herself to a position that should the dragon decide to attack, would ensure that Angel wasn’t directly in its path.

The dragon’s head came up, its jaws dripping with gore and she couldn’t help noticing that the gore consisted mostly of what looked to be like half a Chirago demon.

Ok Buffy my girl, no problemo, just a great big flying lizard… “Bet it’s not even that smart” she mumbled to herself, advancing on the suddenly intent looking dragon.

“Ssslayer” hissed a voice in her head.

“What…huh?” she blinked.

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you that if you don’t have anything nice to ssssay you ssshouldn’t ssssay it at all” came the voice again, slithering into her mind with cold black humor.

Buffy gulped and swallowed hard.

Shaking her head to clear it, her eyes darted around the alley looking for the source of the question, though she was pretty sure the search was a delaying tactic on the part of her brain, as the dragon in front of her now had a strangely amused looking expression on it’s face.

“Yessss Ssslayer I’m talking to you” the beast hissed. Raising its head, it dropped the rest of its meal to stare contemptuously into her eyes.

“Oh that’s just great” Buffy grumbled to herself. “Now I not only have to kill puff the magic dragon but I actually have to listen to it yabber on at me too. Boy, could my life get anymore sucky?” she complained, while at the same time she took a firmer grip on the scythe.

“Don’t worrrry” came the amused voice. “You won’t be hearing meee for long… I’ve always enjoyed the tassste of SSSlayer meat... bit of a delicacy where I come from. Hmm now, fresh or roasssted” came the pondering words as the creature moved slowly towards her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Buffy could see the form of Illyria slip from the shadows and move to circle behind the dragon.

“That’s it just a little closer” muttered the slayer. “Come on… here puffy puffy” she called softly, as the dragon paused.

“What’s wrong puff? Not scared of little old me are ya?” she taunted mockingly.

She was relieved when the dragon moved towards her again. For a moment there she was sure the creature was about to turn and discover the blue god.

It hissed as its attention turned back to her.

“You are nothing but meeeat to me little girl… in my world my kind battle to sssee who will get to eat the next ssslayer called” it bragged. “Ssslayers are sssuch a tiny mouthful... and with only one every couple of daysss and thoussssands of usss… well let’sss just sssay… it’s been a while ssince my lassst sssnack.”

Inwardly Buffy quailed at the dragon’s words. Imagining the futility of being called, only to be eaten within days of becoming the slayer, instead of the years she’d had.

“Yeah well, my world, my rules, puffy”, she shot back defiantly, readying herself for the dragon’s next move.

“And in my world… slayers live long enough to kill your scaly ass” she yelled, diving to the right. Well out of the way of the stream of fire, the dragon let loose.

The dragon roared in rage as the slayer quickly flipped to her feet and struck with the scythe.

It flew from her hand and lodged itself firmly in the dragon’s left eye.

Its roar of rage turned to one of pain as it shook its head furiously trying to dislodge the weapon, while at the same time it tried vainly to keep track of its suddenly deadly opponent’s movement.

Buffy waited barely a second after the scythe left her hand before turning and vaulting onto the nearest closed dumpster. Once there, she turned and waited until she was sure the dragon’s blind side was facing her way before she struck.

She leapt from the dumpster and landed right where she wanted to be, on the back of the dragon’s head.

It screamed its rage, and with more than a hint of panic, it flailed its head with renewed desperation, attempting to dislodge its passenger.

Buffy winced in pain as the screaming in her brain threatened to make her ears bleed.

Hanging on for dear life, she searched the shadows desperately for Illyria and Angel, hoping that the blue god had managed to get the souled vampire away from the battle.

Just as she was starting to worry that she may have to retrieve the scythe and retreat, she spotted the blue god striding towards them.

“Worm… hear me,” sang the blue gods voice.

“Your kind was both servant and pet to me when I ruled this world, but both your time and mine is gone. We are the last of our kind on this miserable rock, so come… I will bestow upon you the honour of dying by my hand and mine alone… I, Illyria God King, command it.”

Whoa… way to get attention thought Buffy, as she once again found herself gulping at the nerve of the former God king.

The dragon was still trying desperately to dislodge the slayer from its neck, but at the blue demon’s words its cries changed from pain and anger to ones of deep and abiding hatred.

Buffy might have been blond but she wasn’t stupid, she knew this might be her only chance to get the scythe before the two ancient powers joined in battle, so she took it.

While the dragon was momentarily distracted by the addition of a new player in the game, she leapt from her place on its broad neck.

Throwing herself forward, she clasped the haft of the scythe and used her momentum to pull it free from the dragon’s eye.

Tumbling end over end, she nevertheless managed to land neatly on her feet before throwing herself forward into a series of flips. Hearing the roars of the dragon, and what could only be Illyria’s chilling war cry she turned to face the two combatants.

Illyria was crouched in a fighting stance obviously waiting for the dragon’s attack. But the dragon strangely enough wasn’t moving forward to engage her; instead now that the scythe had been removed it seemed to be studying the blue God with an intentness that left chills down Buffy’s spine.

As Buffy watched, the dragon let out a slow coil of flame from its jaws, and if she hadn’t known better Buffy could have sworn that the dragon was smiling.

Illyria didn’t move. She held her pose, as still as any statue.

The strange staring contest went on so long that Buffy was on the verge of asking them what the hell they were doing when the dragon spoke once more.

“You are indeed far from home majesssty,” came the sly voice. “But I sssense that you are farther than you know… Yesss, it may be true that once you ruled my kind… but the ssshell you wear has weakened you my God, and it isss your arrogance that ssshall finally be your downfall”

The dragon’s tone was knowing, its reptilian gaze calculating as it gazed on the shell that the once God now inhabited.

“I am old Illyria and myyy time nearly done but… ahhhh” the bliss in the dragon’s next words chilled Buffy to the core. “To live long enough to see the enssslaver of my kind reduced to meat and bone… well this is a wissh never dreamed of. You will have your battle… my God” the dragon hissed, its voice full of scorn “But it will be I… not you, that leavesss the field alive thisss night.”

And with that the dragon let burst a flow of flame that lit the alley up like it was day.

Buffy could do nothing but watch, as the former god king was enveloped in the fire.

The first volley of flame had barely ceased when the dragon reared back and seemed to be sucking in air, as though to launch a new attack.

Makes sense was Buffy’s irrelevant thought. Cos didn’t she vaguely remember something from chem class about fire needing oxygen to burn.

She grinned viciously. It was what she had been waiting for. Buffy, whom the dragon had seemingly forgotten, took her chance.

With a prayer to the powers and fate, for the second time that night she threw the scythe. This time, putting every bit of her slayer strength behind it.

The scythe flew straight and true… right into the exposed chest of the still rearing beast.

The dragon bellowed in pain, before swinging its head to meet the eyes of its killer. The look in its eyes was puzzled, as though it was searching for something other than the small blond woman in front of it.

“Yooou”…

Buffy heard the incredulity in its last gasp, and she smiled.

“Yup, me” she chirped brightly … “Hey puffy” she couldn’t resist quipping. “You should watch those late night snacks; they can be murder on the old heart.”

Flipping her hair to the side, she grinned broadly, as she watched the knowledge of its death at the hand of the said snack, reach the dragon’s eyes.

Then much to Buffy’s disappointment, it keeled over side ways and died.

She snorted indignantly. “Well that was just rude. You’d think that something that old could hang around long enough for me to get more than one quip in.

“No bloody consideration” she muttered, unwittingly channeling Spike

“Oh God… I hope the heart didn’t have to be intact” she worried aloud as she stepped forward and pulled the scythe from the dragon’s chest.
Her worries and fear for Spike returned in a rush now that the battle was done.

Grimacing, she looked at the gaping hole that the scythe had left in the dragon’s hide, trying to assess any damage to the seeping heart.

She glanced over her shoulder to see the figure of Illyria bearing down on her… looking less than happy.
Buffy, was surprisingly relieved to see, she was entirely whole. There wasn’t a singe mark on her.

“Nice moves Blue… hey, do you have any idea how the heck we’re gonna get the heart out of this thing without it’s blood getting everywhere?” She studied her feet with a concerned frown. “I just got these boots and they might be stylish, but they’re not affordable enough for me to replace them.”

Buffy smirked and Illyria glared, her look changing to one of puzzlement at the blonde’s humor.

Illyria tilted her head to the side, studying Buffy in a way which; if it hadn’t been for the buzz she still had on after killing the dragon, Buffy might have felt inclined to get a little ticked over.

As it was, she was just happy that the dragon was dead, and on a plus note, it hadn’t taken as long as it could have… now there was a real chance that they could save the man she loved.

The fact that Illyria might be her only chance of getting the heart out of the chest - without ending up in the same state as Spike - might have also had a lot to do with her suddenly even temper.

“I do not understand mortals,” stated Illyria, completely ignoring Buffy’s question.

“You who are a disease… a pestilence crawling on the face of this blighted world.” She looked puzzled for a moment before her face once again set in it’s customary haughty disdain.

“You are a foolish mortal indeed… to worry more about the state of the animal skins on your feet than the wrath of a god.”

Her voice was scathing and roiled with a power that had the slayer in Buffy itching for the battle that was implied in her tone.

“The dragon was mine to destroy slayer… my gri…” her lips tightened at the slip, but her face remained impassive.

“My right… to avenge Wesley, to punish the dragon for the damage to my pet, gifted me the same right to its destruction. You should die Slayer… for the insult you have dealt me this night… yet I find myself staying my hand.” Her gaze turned inward and Buffy felt herself start to relax.

Illyria’s next words had Buffy lowering her gaze to hide her pity. “I… I wish Wesley were here… I fail to understand what this hesitance in me means.”

Illyria’s eyes flickered from blue to brown, and back again, the expression on her face one of confusion as she studied the diminutive woman before her. The sudden rage she’d felt at being robbed of the kill evaporating at the look of sad understanding on the blond slayer’s face.

Buffy shook her head ruefully before meeting the former God’s eyes.

“What can I say... love changes everything Illyria… even a God. Besides,” she continued gently “when it comes down to it… you know what Wesley would have wanted you to do. As long as you hold him in your memories, Illyria, he will never really be gone. And every decision you make based on what Wesley would have done… means that he is still making a difference. The Wesley I remember would have been proud of that.”

Illyria didn’t answer but Buffy thought she saw the former God’s expression soften just a little.

Instead, the blue demon advanced slowly upon the corpse of the dragon, her expression once again becoming grim as she studied the wound that had brought down the giant beast.

“The kill was sloppy, there was little skill involved here Slayer” her voice once again scathing as she turned her gaze to Buffy’s.

“Nevertheless” she admitted, her tone changing to one of grudging respect. “Your strike was true and the heart is not damaged in any significant way. Stand clear mortal… I am a God and the worm’s blood will not kill me but it may still do damage. Find something to contain the heart” she ordered, before plunging her hands into the wound.

Buffy winced as she heard the sound of muscle and flesh tearing, the crack of what she guessed were the dragons ribs bringing home the fact that though this creature in front of her might look humanoid and weak, she was in fact anything but.

“Uh... um … I’ll just go do that then” she muttered, wincing again as dark clotted blood flowed from the damage that Illyria was creating.

Illyria failed to respond in any way, seemingly too absorbed in the task of extracting the heart.

“Eeww”… Buffy wrinkled her nose as she hurriedly backed away from the spreading puddle of gore that was pooling at the ex God’s feet.

Feeling her gorge rise at the sight of Illyria’s face now creased with something like glee, Buffy turned to search the debris of the alley for something to carry the heart in.

“Ok that was just disturbing,” she muttered to herself, as she walked towards the large dumpster she’d hidden behind earlier.

It was only as a shadow moved and shifted in the shelter of the dumpster that she suddenly remembered Angel.

Giles and Xander entered the Hyperion hotel cautiously; both of them conscious that they had very little information concerning the fate of Angel’s crew, not to mention his suspect alliance with Wolfram and Hart.


“Hey G man, so what’s the plan? Do we split up so the beasties can snack on us now?” drawled Xander sarcastically. “Or are we gonna stay together so they can have Giles and Xander smörgåsbord? Cos I gotta say… this place is giving me a serious case of the jeepers creepers… and we haven’t made it past the lobby yet.”


Giles rolled his eyes, which of course went unnoticed in the dark gloom of the Hyperion lobby.

“Xander” he sighed, “I’m quite well aware that you are nervous, as am I, but I could do without your rampaging paranoia in this particular instance. The coven has assured me that apart from the blue creature seen with our yet to be determined vampire… and of course the probable presence of Willow, they could sense no particular danger. So it might behove you to save the girlish whining until something actually attacks us… don’t you think?”

Glaring at the young man, he turned towards the grand staircase that led to the upper floors of the hotel.


“Yeah well, don’t come crying to me when the blue whatever eats you.” Xander muttered under his breath, only to jump sharply as thunder crashed directly over their heads.


Distracted by his latest attack of nerves, he was dismayed to realize that Giles had managed to get a considerable distance up the stairs.

“Uh Giles… um… you wanna wait up” he squeaked, bolting after the watcher as another burst of thunder crashed directly over his head.



At the top of the first landing Giles paused, nearly falling down the stairs as Xander grabbed him by the arm.


“What the devil’s gotten into you Xander? Are you trying to get us both killed? Or is this sudden channelling of all things girly your way of trying to tell me something” snapped the watcher, frustration cresting at the wild look on the younger man’s face.


Xander grinned sheepishly before belatedly registering Giles comment.

“Hey! there is no girly here, watcher man, I am big with the manliness” he retorted indignantly, only to abruptly squeal like said girl as a figure darted out of the darkened hallway ahead of them.

Moments later it came perilously close to knocking both Giles and Xander back down the stairs.



Luckily, for all three of them, Dawn was as startled by them as they were by her. With the attending melee of squeals and slaps from both Xander and Dawn; not to mention the tangle of limbs, it gave Giles enough time to cast a simple witchlight.



“Good grief Dawn” gasped Giles, as the eerie green light lit up the former key’s features. “What on earth” he started to say before sighing heavily. “Never mind I don’t need to ask. So where is your sister, and why exactly are you running about the hotel alone at this time of the night?”

Shaking his head wearily, he helped Dawn to her feet before turning his attention to Xander, whom he was dismayed to see, appeared to be unconscious.

“Oh Buggar” he groaned, eying the younger man before throwing a rather threatening glare at Dawn.


“Um sorry about that” she mumbled contritely “but… um… ah… he was sorta pulling my hair and well I kinda sorta might have… um… maybe punched him… just a bit” she admitted, looking guiltily between Giles and the recumbent form of Xander. Who, to Giles mind at least, didn’t look like he’d be waking up on his own anytime soon.


Giles took in the disheveled state of the girl and the obvious threat of tears lurking in her eyes, and decided then and there that somewhere, somehow, he must have pissed off a vengeance demon, because surely he had been cursed… cursed to spend the rest of his life comforting hormonal teenage girls.

Again sighing heavily he gathered her into his arms and attempted to find out just what the hell was going on.

************



Kennedy looked up from the magazine she’d been half-heartedly reading. As the pilot announced that they would be landing in L A in just under forty-five minutes, she glanced at her watch and scowled.


Willow had been gone nearly two nights and Kennedy was starting to get a very bad feeling that her unannounced arrival might be too late to stop whatever Willow was mixed up in from happening.


If Buffy was already there with Spike, and Giles and the others were on the way, then she was pretty sure that by the time she managed to find Angel’s hotel it would probably be all over… bar the shouting.


So why wasn’t the thought that Willow wasn’t on her own bringing her any comfort? She ran her hands roughly through her hair and tried to sort her confused emotions.


She knew that Buffy didn’t like her; hell the feeling was pretty mutual, but Willow was her girlfriend, her partner. Surely, she should have confided in her that Spike was back, and that he needed Willow’s help.


Okay, so she’d made her dislike of the blond vamp pretty clear while sharing the cramped house on Revello Drive; still… they were supposed to share things and Willow had to know that she would of… She sighed heavily.


Oh, who was she kidding, of course she didn’t tell me, she knows I would have tried to stop her, or at the very least have made sure that Giles knew he was back.


Fuck! None of them except Giles seemed to get the fact that Spike was the enemy.


So what if he saved the world,she thought petulantly.
He’s a vampire; Buffy should have put him down years ago.

She felt her anger welling up inside at the thought that the woman she loved had betrayed her trust, just to help something that had no business existing.


God, it wasn’t like Willow even liked him all that much; from what the red head had told her he’d tried to kill her at least a couple of times.
So what the hell was it about the bloodsucker? That caused two of the strongest women she knew to drop everything to go running to his side the moment they knew he was back.


Come to think of it, even Giles had seemed a little less anti Spike the last time the vamps name had been brought up. So maybe his sudden trip to LA wasn’t about dusting him like she’d assumed.


Well fine… If none of them could see what a menace Spike was then she’d just have to take him out herself.

“Fuck you Spike,” she muttered under her breath. Let’s see you come back from a stake through the heart.”


As for Willow… well she was about to find out that a pissed off slayer was more than a match for a witch.

And fucking Buffy ‘I’m THE Slayer’ just better stay out of her way, or she would be showing her just how much more potential she really had, now that they were on even ground.



Looking down at her watch once again she was pleased to see that she was less than 30 minutes away from landing. Oh yeah… this was gonna be fun.


Smirking to herself, Kennedy settled back in her seat, the cold look in her eyes a sharp contrast to the smile on her face.

“Oh God, Angel” she cursed softly “how the hell could I forget?”

Moving quickly she knelt by his semi conscious form.

Ok… so he looked a little singed around the edges, but unlike Spike, he didn’t seem to be seriously damaged.
She sighed with relief, even as Angel opened his eyes.

She saw his look of disorientation change to one of puzzlement and then to the one she was the most familiar with, love.


“Buffy? What are you doing here?” he gasped out, struggling to pull himself up off the ground.


As he stood, wincing with pain. Buffy took in the numerous wounds he had sustained in the battle. Even as she assessed the seriousness of the newly revealed cuts and gouges, she couldn’t help the bitter thought; that he’d gotten of lightly compared to Spike.



“Hey there Angel... just take it easy” she advised, slipping effortlessly into concerned mode; even as a thousand questions backed up in her throat, waiting for answers she was pretty sure she didn’t want to know.



“Buffy how… why... what are you doing here? OH God” his eyes widened with sudden memory.

“Buffy the dragon… there’s a dragon” he managed to blurt, his anxiousness doubling him over in pain from the sudden strain to his wounds.



“It’s Ok Angel” taking his bowed weight on her shoulders. “It’s ok… Illyria and I killed it… It’s dead… shhh” she soothed, as his worried gaze locked with hers.


For just a moment, Buffy stared into the eyes of the man she had once vowed would be her one true love… forever.

She let herself remember all that they had meant to each other, and the pain she’d felt the day he’d walked away from her.

She remembered how safe she always felt in his arms, and how loved she’d known she was just by looking into his soulful eyes.

She remembered the pain she’d lived through when she sent him to hell. And the agony when he came back, knowing that they could never be to each other what they wanted to be.

All the thoughts and memories of her time with him ran through her head like the replaying of an old movie, and just like an old movie she wasn’t surprised to find that all that was now left of their tragic love… were nostalgia and a certain sense of sad finality.


Her eyes were sad as she looked away from him. Knowing, that at last it was time to put childish things away. That the love she’d had for him was that of a young girl’s first, not the woman’s love she felt for Spike.


She looked around the alley at the carnage that lay before them, and she remembered the last sight she’d had of Spike as he lay in agony on the bed in his grandsire’s hotel.

When her eyes found Angel’s again the sadness was gone, replaced by a hardness that Angel had never seen before.



“Buffy who told you I was in trouble?” he asked. “How did you know to come?”

His eyes were full of wary confusion as he looked into the face of the woman who had once told him that she would always be his girl.

The face was hard, with eyes that looked at him as if she didn’t know him anymore.


“Buffy what’s going on? You said Illyria... that you and Illyria killed the dragon? Where is she? Where’s Gunn and Sp… the others?”


He searched the shadows of the alley, his mind going over the last few minutes of the battle. The memory of his grandchilde charging the dragon as it knocked him aside with one blow of its powerful tail vividly imprinted on his brain.

As he’d hit the wall his last sight had been of Spike in gameface roaring with rage as he lunged to meet the dragons charge… then nothing but blackness.


Unnoticed by either of them it had started to rain again, and finally Angel’s searching eyes found the figure of the very dead dragon, and the even stranger sight of Illyria tearing at something within it’s corpse.

Even as his mind made sense of what she was doing, the former God straightened. With a cry of pure animal triumph, she wrenched the still bleeding heart from the dragons’ body.


He turned his gaze back to Buffy, shocked to see a similar expression of dark satisfaction on the face of blonde slayer.


“Buffy what is going on here?” he asked again in confusion.



She turned, her face grim, hazel eyes meeting brown. “I’m cleaning up your mess Angel” she rasped harshly, pain flowing across her features briefly, before she turned her face from him.


Her shoulders slumped for a moment then once again she turned to look at him, pure slayer resolve in her eyes and stance.

“I don’t have time to get into this with you Angel… Spike doesn’t have time” she ground out with barely contained venom. “But you and I will talk about this… and Angel, you better have a good explanation for why you kept the fact that Spike was back from me.”


Her gaze softened for a moment as she tried to rein in her anger at his latest betrayal, her eyes welling up with tears as she remembered that she had very nearly been too late.


“Your friend Gunn is over there” she said gesturing further down the alley. “I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes sliding away from his. “He didn’t make it. And before you ask,” she said a little more gently “I don’t know about the others, I haven’t been here that long myself.”



Angel felt his dead heart clutch in pain as he walked slowly in the direction that Buffy had pointed. It wasn’t until he actually squatted down next to what was left of Gunn that the reality of the situation hit him.

Everyone he loved was gone… Cordelia, Fred, Wes and now Gunn, they were all gone and it was all his fault.

No… not all gone. The bitter thought surfaced. Both Illyria and Spike had survived.


“Fuck” he cursed softly as he looked down at the man he had led to battle and death. “Fuck … I’m so sorry Charlie…. I’m so God damn sorry.”




Buffy watched Angel as he stood in the pouring rain staring down at the body of his friend.

She had never seen anyone look so lost in her life. But once where she would have rushed to give comfort, been eager to soothe his pain, now she could find only pity that he had fallen so far.



Angel went down on one knee, and just for a moment, she wondered if maybe this would break him. But even as the thought flitted through her mind she watched as he reached out gently to close the eyes of his dead friend.

And then suddenly it was as if time resumed its natural course and everything around her became more rushed and urgent than the moment before.


She shook her head trying to clear her mind, thinking to herself, even as she once again searched for something to contain the heart. That it was funny… even though she didn’t love him any more Angel still managed to draw her focus until he was the only thing in it.


Wrinkling up her nose, she turned to the matter at hand.

J
umping lightly she perched on the edge of her chosen dumpster and prayed that she’d find something close to the surface because… Ok fighting a dragon for the man I love is one thing she mused wryly, but dumpster diving? Well ewww… gotta draw the line somewhere.


She sighed with relief as she spotted just what she needed, and even more importantly it wasn’t covered in dumpster gunk.


“Hey Illyria, give us a hand will you” she yelled back over her shoulder, as she tried to shift the unwieldy bundle of what she was pretty sure was an old tarpaulin.


Breathing through her nose, she tried to pull the stained and ragged bundle towards her, finding in this instance at least, that slayer strength was useless.


Once again, she leaned precariously over the dumpster’s edge. She’d managed to work it towards the side when suddenly two arms reached in beside her and helped her pull the resisting bundle up and over.

Turning, she took in the battered sight of Angel as he stooped to help her spread the plastic sheet out on the ground.

“Thank you” she offered quietly as she studied the discarded bounty for signs of rips or holes that might make it useless.



“It’s the least I can do” came the muttered reply.


Buffy glanced at him sharply but it seemed he was being sincere, the broodier than usual look on his face was all the proof she needed.


She had seen Illyria out of the corner of her eye and she stood back now as the once God stepped out of the shadows; the large, still dripping heart held firmly in both hands.

“Move back Angel” she instructed, as the God King bent to lay her burden down.


“Okay Buffy, but would you mind telling me why you guys need this thing?” he asked, gesturing at the bloody mass of flesh that Illyria was covering with the edges of the tarp.



Turning to meet his eyes squarely she tried to find the words to tell him of Spike’s injuries and the spell, but she couldn’t seem to make her mouth form the sentences.

The pain of his loss at the Hellmouth suddenly overwhelmed her again, and she had to bite her lip to prevent herself from either crying or slugging Angel really hard.


Luckily, Illyria chose that moment to let them know she had finished.

Registering her impatience with a sharp glance at both warriors, she quickly explained what Buffy had been unable.


“We do not have time for your questions vampire, but I suspect it will waste less if your pointless queries are answered. The heart is for my pet, it is needed for a spell to heal the damage inflicted upon him by the worm.” She eyed him coldly as she noted the quick glance he threw at the slayer.

“It seems vampire, that when you were unable to defeat the beast, my pet drew its fire from you. He is at this moment near his final death.”


She turned to Buffy, her expression still holding more than a trace of the contempt she felt for the dark haired vampire.

“We will go now Slayer” ” she announced “this one is of no more use to me or mine.”

With that said, she gathered the gruesome bundle to her chest and strode off into the dark shadows of the alley.



Buffy rolled her eyes at the stunned look on Angel’s face, before turning and following the former God.

Tara’s attention was pulled away from the vampire she had been watching over as she registered the startled gasp from the doorway of the room. Her eyes met the very shocked gazes of both Xander and Mr Giles.


“H-hey guys” she stuttered nervously.

Placing Spike’s hand gently back on the bed she got to her feet even as Willow reached her side.


Willow’s first reaction was to start babbling, but one look at the expression on both of the men’s faces had fresh tears springing to her eyes.


It was Xander that broke the silence as he rushed forward to embrace the nervous blond.

“Oh my God, Tara! It’s true… it’s really you”, he grinned picking her up and swinging her round; His grip was tight enough to make Tara gasp with pleasant surprise.


Placing her back on the ground, he continued to clasp her hands even as Giles came forward; his eyes suspiciously damp behind his glasses, impatient for his turn to hug the newly resurrected girl.

“My God Tara… when Dawn told us that you were here I-I, well I didn’t know what to think… but… your really here” he breathed out in wonder.


Tara smiled shyly up at Giles through her lashes, more than a little touched by their display of emotion.

Before she could say anything, Willow interrupted.



“Oh good grief you guys,” she said with a wide grin. “Will you let the girl breathe” Her heart filling with joy at the obvious pleasure that both Giles and Xander were displaying at Tara’s presence.



Giles eyed the redhead with a mixture of concern and warmth; the concern because even though Dawn had told them that it wasn’t Willow’s fault that Tara was back, it still disturbed him that once again one of Willow’s well meaning spells had been the catalyst, if not the cause of a resurrection.

“Willow” he cautioned sternly “We must talk”



His lecture was cut off abruptly as Tara moved and he saw the body lying on the bed for the first time.


“Bloody hell! Spike?” he managed to croak out, as his brain caught up with his eyes.

Moving closer Giles felt several different emotions surge through him; foremost was pity closely followed by horror, but on the tail of that Giles felt a surprising amount of anger, none of which was directed at the vamp.


As he stood looking down at the vampire, he remembered a conversation he’d had years ago with Spike about the power of redemption and the vagaries of fate.


Spike, he remembered, had scoffed at Giles attempt to convince him that maybe there was more to his being chipped than just random chance.

But looking at him now lying on this bed, damaged worse than he’d ever been, Giles had the horrible sinking feeling that Spike had been more tool than fool.


God… after Spike died closing the Hellmouth, it had kept him awake at night, thinking how close he and Robin Wood had came to dooming the earth.

And when he had found out Spike was back; it had been a strange mix of relief and trepidation that had settled around his heart.


From the reports that he’d gotten over the last day he now knew that Angel had somehow caused the battle that Spike had been so damaged in. Spike had been seen fighting alongside his grandsire against the combined forces of Wolfram and Hart’s demon army, and not for the first time Giles berated himself over his blind spot when it came to the blond vamp.


The vampire had saved all their lives so many times, that when it came down to it he should have been encouraging Spike’s attempts at being good, not plotting to get rid of him.

Even after Spike returned with a soul, his continuing prejudice and over protectiveness towards Buffy made him blind to the truth that a vampire had sought a soul for a human woman, and not just any woman… the Slayer.


No matter what the vampire had done to help over that last horrible year in Sunnydale he wouldn’t allow himself to see that Spike had truly changed. And as ashamed as he was to admit it… until just moments ago he had still had doubts.


But now, looking at the devastation that the vampire had again willingly suffered, he was forced to finally admit that Spike had changed beyond anything he could have ever foreseen.

Moreover, his latest involvement in saving the world could not be attributed to his feelings for Buffy. Spike had fought because it was what heroes do when they are needed, and if Giles had learned one thing about Spike’s death in the Hellmouth, it was that Spike was a hero.



His gaze scanned and assessed the damage, even as he cursed himself for his lack of faith in his slayer. If he had just trusted Buffy’s faith in Spike then maybe Spike wouldn’t be here in this room dying. Because Giles knew with out doubt, that vampire healing and witchcraft was not going to be enough to save Spike from the damage he had immediately recognized as dragon wrought.



Once, years ago when he had been young and much more romantic, he had devoured everything the council had to offer on dragons and the myths and legends that surrounded them.

The only consistent truth that he had managed to glean from all his research was that the bite of a dragon or the touch of its fire was fatal. That even if one happened to survive the initial attack, the saliva and the properties of its fire would ensure the afflicted person’s death to be swift and excruciating.


The only reason Spike was not dust must be because as a vampire he was quite a bit harder to kill than a human.

Though to last as long as he had?


“Willow, what have you given him? Has anything helped… is there anything I can do,” he stuttered helplessly.


Tearing his eyes away from the dying vamp to settle on the pale face of the witch, he once again found himself lost in feelings of uselessness, brought about by his own actions.



Willow’s face fell as she saw the fear on the watchers.

“Oh Goddess Giles, I’ve tried everything I could think of” she sniffled, fighting back tears as she thought back over the last night and day she’d spent with the vampire.

“But he was hurt by a dragon Giles… a dragon…and I didn’t know what to do and he begged me to not tell Buffy or Dawnie… and I promised Giles... I promised him I wouldn’t tell them and… and I… Oh God… I should have called you” she sobbed.

Finally breaking down as all her pent up fears of the last few days were released.

“Giles, oh God Giles… Buffy... she … she’s here and Spike is so... so…
I don’t know if we can save him even with the heart… and I should have told someone, but I promised him Giles…I promised him.”


Her words were harsh and ragged, full of the guilt she felt that she hadn’t done enough to help, the fear that she had made the wrong decision. That it would be too late.



Tara had moved forward at the first signs of Willow’s tears and now she cradled the redhead in her arms, her voice murmuring soft words of comfort as Willow cried out her fears.


Willow tried to blink back her tears, she needed to get herself under some sort of control, she needed to be calm, and she needed to tell Giles all she’d done - to tell him about the spell… and Buffy.



Giles found himself once again at a loss. What could he possibly say to ease Willow’s anguish, when his own guilt about Spike threatened to drown out any sense of control he had left.


How could he tell her that he was the reason she was here in LA in the first place. That there would perhaps have been no need for her guilt, if he had only listened to his conscience and told Buffy that Spike was back when he’d first confirmed it all those months ago.

Whatever he was going to say however became moot as he glanced towards the door only to lock eyes with the figure of Illyria.




Illyria paused on the threshold of the room, her grip tightening on the bloody bundle she held in her arms.

For a moment, the emotions of the shell threatened once again to overtake her. She fought with Fred’s leeryness of strangers, while her own need to protect her pet dictated that she destroy these latest interlopers.

A second of indecision later and she was moving swiftly across the room determined to crush the life from anyone who would threaten her will.



Willow’s tear drenched gaze jerked from Giles to the advancing form of Illyria and before she could even think, she had thrown herself between the God and the two Scoobies.



Head tilted to the side Illyria stared hard at the young redhead.

“Why are these mortals here, witch? Do you value your existence so little that you would practice treachery the moment my back is turned?
The vampire will be made whole… I Illyria have commanded it and you will not stand against me.”



“Whoa hey… just take it down a notch there Illyria, no one’s here to hurt Spike.” the witch defended “They just came to help.”

She took a nervous step back, even as she gathered her energy to defend herself and the others if need be.



When Illyria failed to respond, she swallowed hard, her mind going over all the possible spells she might be able to use against a pissed off former God.

It was with a sigh of relief followed by a sharp gasp of surprise that she registered Buffy and Angel’s entrance.


“Um Buffy you wanna lend a hand here?” she squeaked as Illyria moved threateningly towards her.



“Ok blue girl reign it in, they’re on our side” Buffy drawled as she took in the sight of a very tired looking Giles and a rather pale Xander.



Illyria’s eyes met the slayers and whatever she read there must have satisfied her. The former god king nodded once before sidestepping Willow to place her burden on the armchair next to Spike’s bed.



Buffy could see the questions in her watchers eyes, but before he could voice any of them, she turned to Willow.

“Okay Will’s we got it so let’s do this… Giles” she said turning back to face him.

“I know you have lots of questions but they’re gonna have to wait… Hey Xan. God you look like crap, good to see ya though” she offered with a grim smile, before turning back to the witches.

“So, Illyria and I got the heart, did you guys work out what we’re gonna need for the spell, and what else you need from me?” she inquired anxiously as she tried to avoid looking at the object of her worry.



Willow opened her mouth to answer but before she could, Buffy was off once again.

“Angel, we might still need you… You stay.” she ordered with a frown “But Giles and Xan, I think it’s best if you go and… where’s Dawn?” she asked, interrupting herself.


“She’s lying down”, offered Giles as he nervously sidestepped the slayers movement towards the door.


“Oh well that’s good” replied Buffy relieved that Dawn was not going to complicate her already complicated plans.

“Ok so Dawn is taken care of, which just leaves you two,” she noted leveling her gaze at the watcher and the one eyed carpenter.

“Right, I hate to be pushy guys but I need you to go stay with Dawn while we do this thing… And don’t even think of starting” she warned as she took in the sudden uncomfortable look on Xander’s face.

“I know neither of you two ever liked him, but frankly I don’t care. I lost him once I’m not gonna do it again, and if you two can’t deal? Fine, that’s your problem, just stay out of our way.”



“Um, Buff”… said Xander hesitantly.


“What” she snapped not in the mood for one of Xander’s interventions.



“I was just gonna ask is there anything I can do to help?” His eyes swiveled back to Spike’s body lying on the bed.

Swallowing heavily he met her angry glare.

“I-I could go rustle up some clothes or something for him” he offered.

“Not that bleach boy wouldn’t get a thrill about scaring me for life”, he said with a weak grin.

“It’s just that he might feel a little less exposed when you fix him if he actually had something to wear when he comes back to the land of the living. And maybe I could do a food run” he added glancing questioningly at Willow.



Willow smiled gratefully and nodded before turning her full attention back to Buffy.



Buffy’s eyes welled with tears as she looked at her oldest male friend.

She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and forced a smile to her lips, gratefully acknowledging his support with her next words.

“That would be good Xan… though nothing with a Hawaiian motiff, or I won’t be held responsible for his actions”, she joked.

“Um… and the food… that would be good for later…. thanks.”



“No problemo Buff. There’s a diner just down the road, I’ll head out now and let the others know what’s going on, Giles can fill you in. he volunteered, seeing the question in her eyes.



Buffy’s eyes rested on her watcher, the look on her face unreadable as she waited for him to explain.



Giles cleared his throat nervously knowing that now was not the time to get into long-winded explanations about how and why he was in LA with a team of slayers.

“There is no need to be concerned Buffy, but I should probably tell you that Faith and three slayers are waiting downstairs, and before you yell, let me just say in my own defense that I did try to reach you before you left Rome.”


Seeing the hard look in her eyes he thought it probably best that he left off telling her that at the time of the call he had no intention off telling her about Spike’s return.

Best to leave the confessions until after whatever it was that Willow was planning to do had been completed. She did not need his latest betrayal taking her attention away from what really mattered.

When Spike was well, he would tell them both what he had done, and if she never spoke to him again… so be it.



Buffy’s lips compressed tightly as she studied the face of the man who deep down inside she still thought of as a father.

She knew there were things he wasn’t saying but an anxious glance at the vampire lying motionless on the bed was enough to push Giles related worries out of her head, as the sight of fresh blood caught her eye.



“Willow” she called worriedly as she moved to Spike’s side.

“He’s bleeding Will… it’s getting worse isn’t it?” she asked as she raised her worried gaze to meet the witches.



Willow frowned before moving closer to take a look at the fresh blood seeping through the bandages.

“It’s ok Buffy… We’re nearly ready” she stated after examining his wounds.

“Everything is set up, I just needed to read over the spell one more time to be sure.”

Taking in the panicked look on her best friend’s face she smiled with what she hoped was reassurance.

“We’re good to go Buff, and hey, even better, we have everything we need, including fresh sire’s blood” she finished as she met Angel’s eyes with a warning look.



With Willow’s words, Angel, who had not said a thing since entering the room, seemed to come out of the daze he’d been in.

His eyes traveled from Willow to Buffy to the figure lying on the bed before resting once again on Willow’s famous resolve face.


“Willow’s right Buffy, she has everything she needs” he confirmed. Knowing without being told that the witch trusted him to agree without asking for more detail.



“There” said Willow brightly, “everything is A ok… Now take your places, Tara will show you where to stand,” she added, as she turned to check that her earlier preparations were undisturbed.


Seeing that the circle she had drawn earlier was intact, apart from a small scuff close to the bed, she moved to correct the damage before turning back to face the others.

“Ok people” she said, taking a deep calming breath, “let’s get this show on the road”.

“Giles could you go sit with Dawn please?” Willow requested, throwing him an apologetic look.

“This spell is kinda major and only the participants should actually be here in the room. Tara will go with you” she said smiling at her newly returned love.


Tara nodded her head shyly before turning to leave the room, a thoughtful Giles in tow.

“Good luck guys”, she offered as she returned Willow’s smile.



Willow watched her as she left the room, marveling again at the fact that her lover was back.

Turning back to the others, the smile on her face faded as the enormity of what she was about to do hit her.

Moving to the head of the bed containing the vampire, with Tara’s book held firmly in both hands, Willow took a deep breath and began.

Faith was bored, not to mention pissed off that she had been left cooped up with the kiddie brigade for over an hour.


She was a seasoned slayer, she’d fought the first evil, and she was dammed if she’d flown all this way to baby-sit a bunch of whiny baby slayers.

What the hell did Giles think he was doing leaving her in the van? Surely she would have been way more help than Xander Harris.



“Fucking typical” she muttered, “stupid Scoobies sticking together, bet B wouldn’t a stood for this” she grumbled to herself, imagining the reaction of the blond slayer if she’d been told to stay behind. Just as she was about to give in to her rapidly growing sense of feeling left out she was distracted by a sharp kick to the back of her seat.

“Right, that is fucking it!” she spat, turning to face the unfortunate girl that had distracted her. Both the Italian and French slayer cowered while the redhead that had done the kicking glared mutinously at Faith.

“What the fuck is your problem Meg?” Faith snarled.



“Well, I was about thinking” drawled the Irish slayer, “that you’d be wantin’ ta know that while yourself was busy bitchin’ about your life, I saw that Kennedy girly go into the hotel.”



“Fuck! Shit! Right, you lot stay in the van” she ordered, as her eyes searched the shadowed doorway of the Hyperion.



“And you’d be telling us to do that why?” came the retort.




Faith just glared at the red head before running her hands distractedly through her hair.

“Because I said so” she ground out. “Just stay here and don’t leave unless you see the signal. I’ll find out why she’s here and be right back”.



Closing the door of the van as quietly as she could she cast one last warning glare at the sulky looking redhead before heading towards the front door of the Hyperion.






Xander was halfway down the stairs when he spotted the dark female form silhouetted by the light from the doorway.


“Hey who’s there?” he called, advancing further down the stairs.



The figure, instead of answering, darted to the left before melting into the gloom of the lobby.



“Ok, so I know you’re there, ya know? And I gotta warn you If you’re here for any other reason than to deliver pizza then your gonna be in for a world of hurt” he threatened.
Swallowing nervously he froze trying to sense which direction the intruder might have gone.


He had just enough time to think ‘Oh shit’ before the mysterious figure rushed him and he felt himself falling forward down the remaining stairs.

Whether through luck or instinct, Xander managed to snag the fabric of the unknown persons clothing, pulling them off balance and down with him. Moments later, he hit the base of the stairs, his assailant fortunately cushioning his fall.



Winded and shaken Xander scrambled off the now cursing figure.

‘Oh, God it isn’t’ came the thought. ‘Shit! Willow is gonna have a bird’ was his next as he recognized the voice of the colorfully cursing figure.


“Good grief Kennedy, just what the hell do you think your doing?” he gasped out as he dodged a sudden kick.




“Fucking get out of my way Xander,” she snarled as she clambered to her feet. “Willow is here with that fucking vampire, and I wanna know why you all seem to be in on the big secret while I, her girlfriend, know squat.”




“Uh Ken… um I don’t think Willow wants to be disturbed right at this moment. She’s sorta in the middle of some powerful mojo” he muttered as Kennedy once again attempted to lash out at him.



Dodging her fist for the second time, he attempted to distract her long enough for his brain to come up with some sort of plan.

“Hey how come you know about Spike anyway? We only found out about him when we got here.” Dodging her next blow, he prayed his brain would hurry up with that plan. “So um, have you seen Buffy?”

“I guess that would be a no” he gulped as he narrowly missed getting a foot in the groin.



Just as he was about to admit defeat and resort to his all time tried and true back up plan (scream like a girl and run) another dark figure joined the one sided battle.




“Hey Kennedy” he heard with relief, “You wanna pick on someone your own size?”





“Faith? Oh thank God” sighed Xander as he recognized the dark slayer’s voice.
His brain muttered a mental ‘huh!’ to those particular words before Xander skittered back out of range of the two slayers.




“Just fucking great,” spat Kennedy. “Another vamp pet, that’s all I fucking need.”

“What is it with you Sunnydale slayers and vamps? You do know you’re supposed to kill them, not be their lapdogs don’t ya?” she taunted, searching for an opening in the older slayer’s defenses.




“Think you’ve got me confused there girlie, that would be the shorter blonder slayer you’re thinking about”, Faith snorted with derision.




“You’re protecting him aren’t you?” snarled Kennedy, rapidly loosing her already over heated temper. “And you’re keeping me from Willow, so get the hell out of my way.”

She attacked fists flying.




Faith sidestepped and with a quick leg sweep knocked the younger slayer to the ground. Before Faith could move in and pin her Kennedy rolled left and flipped herself to her feet and out of Faith’s range.

“What’s the matter Ken? Thought you were in a hurry to see ya sweetie. C’mon” Faith beckoned “All you gotta do is get past li’l old me, how hard can it be?”




“Fuck you Faith.”




“Sorry babe, don’t swing that way… but if I did? Ha, who am I kidding, not even on a bet” she shot, sidestepping another rage filled attack.





Kennedy seemed to go quiet after that, saving her focus for the fighting rather than the quipping. It wasn’t until Faith’s comment that, ‘Damn… she really wasn’t up to much and that at least B had some style about her’ that Kennedy finally lost her last shred of control.




Kennedy rushed Faith screaming that she was gonna kill her, and Xander, after thinking he had enough chick fighting visuals to last a lifetime decided that enough was enough.

Mentally thanking his old friend Riley Finn for his thoughtful gift at their last reunion, Xander fired up his one owner hardly ever driven handy dandy tazer. Zapping Kennedy in what he privately thought of as the thing she talked out of the most, her ass.


Bringing the tazer up to his face he’d shrugged and blew across it before meeting Faith’s eyes with a smirk. “Aw shucks” he drawled at Faith’s cocked eyebrow. “No need for thanks little lady, weren’t nothing but a pleasure.”




Faith just rolled her eyes before stepping forward to make sure Kennedy was well and truly out of it. Straightening up she turned to see Xander take a seat on the bottom step.

“Not that I’m not grateful or anything Xan but you do realize that I was totally enjoying that don’t ya?”



“Yeah I get that, but trust me Faith, Wills really doesn’t need the distraction at the moment, besides she had it coming, that girl just plum gets my goat.”



“I hear ya brother,” agreed Faith wholeheartedly as she studied the recumbent form of Willows lover.

“Um Xan? You don’t think Willow will turn us in to frogs or anything do ya?” she inquired offhandedly, still musing over the fact that she had been (needlessly) rescued by Xander Harris.



“Na”

Grinning, Xander leaned back on the stairs. “I really think she’s gonna be too busy explaining why her ex is here to worry about us.”



“Huh... what? You telling me that Will is batting for the other team again?”


Xander stared at her blankly.



“You do mean Oz don’t ya?” huffed Faith impatiently.



“Na… even better.”




She studied his smug face with a frown before it hit her who he meant. “Holy fuck… and I repeat. Doesn’t anybody stay dead” she wondered aloud.

“God, remind me to leave a will before I die, just in case.”



At his puzzled look she sighed. “You know, so I can leave everything to myself. Cos after that little bombshell I gotta figure if I do bite the big one my chances are 50/50 in the old resurrection stakes.”




Xander chuckled before turning his eyes back to Kennedy.


“Yeah it’s great. I’m really happy for Will, she missed Tara so much and she really deserves to have someone like her in her life. I just gotta wonder how well little Miss obsesso over there is gonna take it.

He frowned as he studied the unconscious slayer.

“I still remember what it was like when Oz came back to town that time and went all wolfy on Tara, so I’m not sure I wanna be around for this one.”




Faith eyed Kennedy speculatively. “So you don’t think she’ll choose Ken, do ya?”




“I dunno, they’ve been together for a while now, and Willow’s not the type to just up and leave someone cos an old love comes back to town. Then again… this is Tara we’re talking about... love of her life and all that.”



Xander felt a lurch somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. His thoughts inevitably drifted to Anya and the fact that even with the seemingly sudden up swing in resurrections, he still didn’t see her being a likely hat trick.

No, his Anya was gone.

He wasn’t getting the love of his life back, and for a brief moment, bitterness welled up at the thought, before a very Anya-like voice in his head reminded him that he didn’t deserve to have her back after the whole wedding that wasn’t, and that there was no guarantee that they would have gotten back together anyway, even if she did come back.

God, he missed her honesty and that endearing streak of selfishness that was pure Anya.


A moment later, he was pulled out of his maudlin thoughts by Faith’s gentle touch.



“Hey Xan man, you still with me?”




“Yeah... yeah sorry, sorta got drifty there for a moment. What was that you said?”




“I asked you what you think we should do with her. I mean she’s not gonna stay out for much longer, and she’s gonna be a tad irked when she wakes up, so…”



Xander thought for a moment before the sly grin he shot Faith had her eyebrows rising in inquiry.

]







Willow studied the words of the spell carefully, at the same time running a mental checklist of everything needed.


Elixir of rebirth
Wine of the god
Essence of battle
And the heart of the source

Combine before the moon sets on the third day
And the curse of the dragon shall burn death away



Ok, so all the ingredients… check.


The diagram under the short spell showed the way the circle and symbols should be drawn and in what positions, but that was the only other information. She frowned. There were no instructions that came with it, no words to repeat, and no clue to how the ritual should be started.

She raised her eyes to the others.




Buffy was chewing on her lower lip nervously, but otherwise seemed calm. Angel was brooding (surprise surprise) and Illyria was… well Illyria.




Taking a deep breath as she looked down at the dying vampire, she closed her eyes and muttered an entreaty to the relevant Gods.



Hecate hear my plea
Open my eyes to the truth
Show me the way to restore this warrior lest he be lost to us
Osiris lord of Death I beseech thee
Unveil what is hidden from these mortal eyes
Reveal the path to his salvation



Her simple chant said she opened her eyes, praying that her petition would be granted and she would be given the vision to see what needed to be seen.


Before her eyes, the writing on the page swirled and started to reform.
Where the words and the small diagram had been the only things on the page, now there was another more detailed diagram and another verse.


The diagram showed three beings with their hands bound and a fourth holding a stylised heart under the bound hands. Blood was running from the three joined hands dripping on to the heart and that in turn was running onto the body lying on what could have easily been an altar, or a bed.



Okay, so it looks fairly straightforward, she thought with relief.

Bind Buffy, Angel and Illyria’s hands. Cut them to draw blood and let the flow of the blood mix and drip down on to Spike.

Now let’s see…




Willow studied the new verse, and as she took in the words she couldn’t help feeling there was more to them than just a spell to heal.

The first part of the spell had seemed pretty cryptic, and then it had just turned out to be really literal. So why when reading this did she get the feeling that there was more to this spell than just a way to heal the dragon’s damage?



As the blood flows let their minds be open
To give the gift of life three must join as one
As the blood flows let the words be spoken
And the dragon’s curse shall be undone

So that was pretty self explanatory, now for the actual spell… Hmmm?


While the blood runs red across this token
As it flows let the dragons curse be broken

To sever the ties that bind death to life
Let this be our payment of the tythe

With the essence of a God and the last of the heart
We call this lost warrior back to the start

With a warrior’s gift and blood that is shared
Let the one here before us be spared

With our sacrifice we petition this spell ended
By the grace of Osiris let this warrior be mended




Well that was just embarrassing. It was so third grade. Or like something they’d cook up on that stupid TV show about the three witches. Right then, embarrassing or not this was it.


Hold on, what’s this last part at the bottom?


As the blood fades and his fate is set
The warrior will be reborn with no regret




Willow peered at the page. She had a sudden nasty feeling about those two lines. They didn’t seem to be part of the incantation. Looking at it, it sort of came across as a disclaimer, or (gulp) some kind of warning?



Crap, no time to ponder this.
Gotta do this, warning or not. Ok Spike here we go.



“Right guys, this is what you have to do.”




As she explained the spell to the others, she found herself carefully avoiding Buffy’s eyes. She didn’t want Buffy to sense just how worried she was about what they were about to attempt, so she deliberately focused on the vampire lying on the bed.

*******************************






Kennedy groaned. Raising her aching head she jolted in sudden reaction as the memory of her fight with Faith came rushing back, along with the headache.



Scrambling to her knees, she strained her eyes trying to see where and what the other slayer was up to. Silence threatened to crush her with its heaviness along with the realisation that Faith had beaten her and then dumped her somewhere… else?



Getting to her feet, she carefully extended her arms and her senses trying to work out the boundaries of her undoubted prison. Within a few steps, her certainty was confirmed as she encountered the bars.




“FAITH YOU FUCKING BITCH, I’M GONNA KILL YOU”.



********************************







Buffy tensed as Willow used her sharp little witchy knife to cut the palm of her hand. The pain barely registered as she gazed at the ruined body of the man she loved.



Willow had explained the spell and made it sound fairly straightforward but she knew there was something that Willow wasn’t telling her; Willow was doing the whole avoidy thing she did with her eyes and it was making Buffy really nervous.


The fact that Angel kept darting wounded brooding looks her way whenever he thought she wasn’t looking wasn’t helping either. She had a feeling that she would shortly be asked to explain her reasoning behind a certain cookie dough speech, and just the thought of her stupidity at their last Sunnydale meeting was enough to make her cringe.




Spike had been back for months and worse, had been working with Angel, so there was no way Angel hadn’t blabbed about her whole ‘one day when I’m baked’ speech.


God Spike, why didn’t you let me know?




Closing her eyes briefly against the sight of his damaged form, she tried to understand how the vampire who loved her enough to die for her hadn’t bothered to let her know he was back in the land of the living.


All these wasted months when they could have been together? All the time here in LA leading to this… and now to nearly lose him again without even knowing he was back.



Oh yeah… anger was good.




Her eyes snapped open and she found herself glaring at her erstwhile lover before directing her glare at her other ex. Boy, was there gonna be some hair pulling when this was all over. Angel and Spike both were going to know the wrath of a very pissed off Slayer.


Stupid vampires, thinking they could make decisions for her! No consideration for her feelings, treating her like some fragile little girl who needed to be protected. Well we’ll just see who needs the protection when I get the two of them alone.




Coming back to herself she noticed Angel eyeing her nervously and took a moment to smile at him sweetly, watching the look on his face go from nervous to panicked before she turned her attention back to Willow and the spell.



She grinned. Oh yeah I’ve still got it.





Angel wasn’t surprised that Buffy was pissed with him, not after she’d made herself so clear over the whole Dana incident. What he was surprised about was her anger over the whole ‘Spike is back and you didn’t tell me’ thing.


Ok, so she might have mentioned that Spike was in her heart but that still didn’t explain why she seemed to be more concerned with the peroxide pest’s wellbeing than the apocalypse they’d just managed to avert.

Judging from the look she had just thrown at him, he had a nasty feeling that they would be having words before the day was out. Assuming of course, that the spell that Willow was casting actually worked, and restored his pain in the ass grandchilde.




Angel had lived for a very long time and seen a lot of horror; mostly at his own behest, but he had found himself truly horrified at the condition of the vampire that had fought by his side.

Willingly distracting the dragon so Angel could get away was one thing, but risking the sort of damage that Spike had suffered? Well he really did not understand Spike, not at all.



Studying him, Angel felt a tug of worry as he considered that Spike might not survive this latest fight, that Willow might not be able to save him.

Even with as much of a pain in the ass the younger vampire was to Angel he had to admit that having him around was never dull, the thought of Spike being gone from the world permanently… he frowned…. Na, never happen.


Spike’s like a cockroach, spray em squash em, burn em. Hell not even a nuke could get rid of them, they always came back.



Stifling a chuckle at the thought, Angel comforted himself with the knowledge that there was no way Spike was going to die, not when he had the chance of gloating that he’d saved his grandsire’s undead ass.

Of course, that did not mean that he had to let Spike know that he had been worried.





Willow was relieved the spell was going off without a hitch. Also the fact that Illyria had been super cooperative was another way big relief.

The blood had been drawn and the words said, now they just had to wait and see if it was going to work.



She studied the vampire on the bed, her eyes flicking nervously between his body and the blood-drenched heart she held below the bound hands of the three. As the first of the drops fell to spatter on the vamps chest, she held her breath, the last few lines of the spell pushing at something in the back of her brain.



As the blood fades and his fate is set
The warrior will be reborn with no regret



Spike had been still as only the dead can be up until this point, but as the first flow of blood pooled on his chest his body started to shake, his head wrenched back and a chilling cry was expelled from what sounded to Willow like the depths of his soul.

Then the blood started to glow with it’s own fiery brilliance.




What before had seemed a small amount, suddenly became a torrent, quickly enveloping the body of the vampire. It brightened to the point that the occupants of the room had to look away, and when Willow chanced to look back in the brief moment that the glow still surrounded him, she saw something she hoped never to see again.




Spike’s body seemed to dissolve before her eyes until the only thing left of him was the glowing red aura in the shape of a man. She knew logically that it must be just the effects of the spell, her heart clenched with dread, as he seemed to waver before her eyes on the verge of disappearing completely.


Just when Willow was certain that the spell had gone bad and that Spike had been consumed by the light, it started to fade.

In the seconds it took for her to register the fact that she could see his form become solid again the light faded completely, leaving him naked and unblemished on the bed.





Buffy blinked back tears from her eyes, the brilliance of the glow having all but blinded her. When at last she was able to see again, the first thing she saw was the awed expression on Willow’s face.

Looking at the bed, Buffy forgot to breathe for a moment as she took in the sight of her restored love. Sobbing with relief, her knees crumpled and she found herself on the floor, with only the edge of the bed supporting her suddenly weak and dizzy body.



Spike? Oh God Spike.



With shaking hands she reached out to touch him, afraid that he would suddenly disappear, but desperate to feel his skin under her hands. He was just as she remembered skin cool to the touch but silky soft and unmarked. His hair was the only glaring difference. It curled about his head in soft brown waves.



She studied his face in wonder, his long dark lashes lay closed over the eyes she had always secretly thought to be his best feature. Trembling hands swept over his sharp cheekbones fluttering across his beautiful mouth, stilling only as they cupped his face with a tenderness that would once have horrified her. She stared at him drinking in the sight of his beauty, seemingly so innocent as he slept.



She remembered other times after their wild and violent couplings, times she had dismissed as weakness on her part. Times when she had laid awake and watched him sleep trying not to marvel that something without a soul could stir her heart the way he did. She had come so close to giving in to what she felt at those times that she was especially vicious to him the next time they were drawn together, determined to deny what her heart knew.



She told herself it was her body that craved him, that it was her need to feel alive that made her come to him. But those times of peace and stillness as she lay in his arms while he slept were the ones that stirred her rage to fury.

No insult or blow on his part had the ability to rouse the Slayer in her the way his sleeping face could.

And now he was here and whole and she could finally tell him just how beautiful she found him, both sleeping and awake.





Willow felt the tears roll down her cheeks as she took in the expression on Buffy’s face.



Goddess, so much love, so much longing, there was not enough words in the world to describe the emotions in her friend’s eyes. Everything that Buffy felt for him was written plain on her face, but if you had asked Willow to describe what they were she wouldn’t have been able to put words to it.


This must be how Buffy felt when asked to describe heaven, came the ragged thought. This is what love looks like. This is what I feel when I look at Tara.




Quietly Willow moved back. Silently gesturing to a dazed and bewildered Angel and the blue god, she backed towards the doorway intent on giving the two reunited lovers some privacy.



Angel looked like he might argue for a moment but Illyria moved between him and the bed, blocking the sight of Buffy and Spike.

Head bowed in defeat he let himself be herded towards the door by the two women.

So wrapped up in the joy she was feeling, Buffy never even noticed them leave. She sat staring wonderingly at the man she’d thought she’d lost forever.


Minutes or hours could have passed but time to her had lost any sense of meaning as she waited patiently for him to open his eyes and return to her.



Her gaze wandered over his body, jealously checking for changes that she might have missed while they were parted. She wasn’t entirely surprised to notice that nearly all the scars she had memorized like a map, wounds telling the story of his warrior past were now gone, erased as though they’d never been.

The spell had done its work much better than it knew, he looked like a man that had never known the touch of violence, much less breathed it like air for a hundred and twenty years.


The only exception to the nearly total healing was the scar he still carried through his eyebrow, and even that didn’t surprise her. After all, it was a slayers blade that had marked him. That very same blade had put him on the path to her and ultimately to the battle in the Hyperion’s alley, and the spell to restore him.


His retaining of the scar only served to verify that the powers that be; as she had suspected, were behind bringing him into her life and now giving him back to her. To Buffy’s mind, the scar was their acknowledgment of who he was and how he’d changed. It symbolized his journey and gave her hope that his love for her had survived along with it.

She was so lost in studying him that at first she didn’t register the sound of her name.



“Buffy?”


Her eyes flew to his face, locking with the brilliant blue of his. Speechless, she could only stare at him as his brow furrowed before he scrambled away from her to press himself against the wall at the head of the bed.



“Slayer, what the fuck? How? Fucking hell, I’ll kill that Witch!” Snarling, he turned his face from the anguished gaze of the woman facing him, registering suddenly the fact that he was naked and apparently alone with Buffy.




Buffy couldn’t get her voice to work, her mouth kept forming the words but they didn’t seem to want to come out. Spike had turned from her, and the trapped and anguished look on his face wounded her like a stake to the gut, a feeling she remembered well.

As he shifted further away from her, all she could think about was the fact that she was losing him again, right before her eyes.


Oh my God, he doesn’t love me any more, he can’t even look at me, came the shocked thought. She tried moving towards him, only to have him scuttle away from her until he was out of the bed and across the room.



“Get away from me Slayer… just stay the fuck away!”



As Buffy advanced on him, Spike felt himself slip into gameface even as he tried to back up even further.




“P-please Spike, please j-just let me touch you, please Spike, don’t run from me.”

The words burst from her throat in ragged sobs as she threw herself towards him, wanting desperately to deny the emotions she could see even through his vampire visage.




Spike froze at her words, brow ridges smoothing and golden eyes fading back to blue. Before he could register her movement she was in his arms, sobbing into his chest as though her heart was breaking.


His arms came up to encircle her, holding her second nature. Even as his mind tried to deny that need, reminding him that she wasn’t his and never had been. She had moved on, she wasn’t part of his world anymore.

Unfortunately, the rest of his body seemed to have missed the memo.


Before he even had time to register what he was doing, his lips were on hers, and he was shocked to find his hands tangled in her hair, his rock hard erection pressed against her warm stomach.



“Buffy, oh God Buffy luv, Oh God you’re here… need you luv need you… missed you please Buffy please.”



Spike didn’t know what he was begging her for, couldn’t think with her warmth pressed up against him. His mind shutting down, his body took over, continuing to babble into her hair about how much he had missed her and how much he needed her.




With his words ringing in her ears Buffy found herself swept away by her own need, her hands roaming greedily across his naked chest, her mouth opening to allow his tongue to tangle with hers.


Before she had time to register what was happening, his strong arms had lifted her, and she felt herself slammed against the wall, her mouth bereft as his lips were torn away. Gasping in pleasure a moment later, when she felt the scrape of his human teeth on her throat.

Her back wedged against the wall she bucked wildly as she felt his hard length press against the seam of her jeans. Mind whiling with too many thoughts to comprehend, she moaned eagerly as seconds later she felt the denim ripped from her body.

Her cry of joy as he entered her was exultant, even as a part of her marveled at the fact that this was so very like their first time. Except it wasn’t. This time she wasn’t taking him in anger and despair, this time wasn’t motivated by her need to feel. No, this time she was welcoming her lover home, rejoicing in his possession of her, his need for her. This time it was about love.




Spike thrust into her warmth wildly, he was beyond thought beyond anything other than his need to be in her, surrounded by her, consumed by her.


He dimly registered her sobbing his name as she tightened her legs and thrust back at him, meeting and matching his loss of control with her own. However, it wasn’t until he felt her blunt teeth bite deeply into his shoulder that it became real for him and he realized that somehow he was alive and buried deep within the slayer.


“Oh Fuck Buffy!” Gasping, he tried to pull away from her, but her legs only tightened, as with his words her climax swept her over the edge.



Spike was lost. As her internal muscles gripped and fluttered with her release, he felt himself lose it, his demon surging to the fore.




Buffy screamed as she felt his fangs pierce her throat, even as a second orgasm rolled through her. Her slayer side screaming in anger, even as the Buffy side of her gasped out her pleasure, at an act that she once would have abhorred. Elated, she had made him loose it to an extent that he never had before.




As the first rush of her hot blood hit his tongue, Spike felt his own release wash over him. Withdrawing his fangs his mouth sealed over the wound, glorying in the taste of her life force flowing down his throat, even as he emptied his cold seed into her depths.




She felt his strong mouth pull another gulp of her blood and incredibly, she came again.

“Oh God Spike I missed you… please Spike… yes just like that.”




Buffy’s shriek as she climaxed for the fourth time was what finally brought the vampire back to himself.


With horror, he realized that his fangs were buried in her neck again, re-entering the puncture wounds that he had put there just moments before.


Tearing his mouth from her neck, he fought to free himself from her embrace as he realized that he had surely signed his death warrant. Not only had he fucked her, in an ironic parody of their first time, he had done the unthinkable and drunk from her, had in fact been only seconds away from claiming her.

A
s panic set in he struggled to escape her for a second time, knowing that it might be only seconds before she came to her senses and realized that this time he not only raped her body, but very nearly her soul.



His thoughts fragmented, as images of their first time in the abandoned house and flashes of the bathroom melded with his memories of the last few minutes.

He had taken her and drunk from her, he would have let his demon claim her binding her to him for the rest of her life, even knowing that she was not his, that some other man owned her heart.



He finally managed to pry her legs from his waist, at the same time grabbing her wrists and pulling her arms from around his neck. Sighing with defeat, he met her gaze, determined to offer himself up to her stake without fear.

Searching her face, Spike waited for her confusion and anger to boil over into rage. Even after all this time the lust in her eyes was not totally unexpected, it went a long way towards explaining her seemingly willing participation in what he’d just done.


Hello, he might have just been resurrected from near death but contrary to popular belief he wasn’t completely stupid, he knew she wanted him. He had always known… even before she did. Buffy may have hated him, but she loved the way he made her feel.

It didn’t however keep him from the sure certainty that any second now Mr Pointy and he would be getting intimately reacquainted. After all, if there was one thing he knew about his Slayer, it was that Denial was her middle name.



As he looked into her eyes, expression stoic and heart steeled to bear the brunt of her final rage, he felt a sudden lurch in his chest. Buffy’s eyes were full of tears just as expected but the look on her face wasn’t the one he’d been expecting. For a moment, he was tempted to look over his shoulder.


Bloody hell, she can’t be looking at me like that…


Yes, there was anger in her gaze, but far outweighing the former was the look of grief and something else he couldn’t put a name to. He took another stumbling step away from her, thinking vaguely that she was just shocked to see him and that it would be any second now.



When she stepped forward, he steeled himself for the blow, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the hate in hers, when she finally ended their dance.

Seconds later his eyes flew open as he felt her small hands cup his face, and with her next words, he felt a huge sense of relief.



Oh thank Fuck! He was obviously either dreaming or delirious, no doubt still out of it after the big battle. Yeah, that must be it, he decided with relief, as dream Buffy said those longed for impossible words.




“Spike, did you hear me? I said I love you.”




He smiled down at her, a goofy grin settling on his mouth, thinking that this had to be up there with the first time he’d dreamt of kissing her for sheer terror and happiness all rolled into one.




Buffy was starting to get a little bit pissed… again.

First, he had run from her, then he had fucked her so hard and well that her legs were still shaking, and the biting thing? Well that was new, and definitely something for them to talk about later. Right now though, she was getting the feeling that the lights were on but nobody was home.


She had just told him she loved him twice and all he could do was stand there with a stupid look on his face, staring at her as if he’d never seen her before.


“Spike...Oh for Pete’s sake, will you just snap out of it you stupid vampire.”

Her frustration rose when she got no reaction to her words. Stomping her foot she retracted her hands and took a small step back. Arms crossed, she studied him for a moment before shrugging and popping him smartly in the nose.




“Oi… Bloody hell woman! What the fuck was that for?”

It occurred to him then, that he must really have a masochistic streak if he needed her to be hitting him even in his fantasies. It was only as he tasted the blood from his brutalised nose, registering that it tasted strongly of the Slayer, that it finally occurred to him that his dream was just a little too chock full of detail to actually be a dream.


For a moment, he toyed with the idea that he was actually dead and that this was heaven, but when a small warm hand circled his hardening length even he had a hard time holding on to his disbelief.


Shocked blue eyes met laughing hazel as he stuttered out her name.


“B-Buffy? Am I dead?”

Looking down at her busy hand he gulped before meeting her eyes again.

“Not that I’m complaining pet but why am I not a big pile of dust?”

He groaned as she released his erection, only to gasp as her lips met his in a soft gentle caress.


She giggled at the incredulous look in his eyes.

“Hmm, I knew one of those two things would get your attention Spikey.”




Spike found himself shaking his head in disbelief, even as she pressed her warm half naked body up against his.



Smothering the fresh giggles that threatened to erupt over his dumbfounded expression, Buffy snuggled closer to Spike; at the same time maneuvering both of them back towards the bed.




Spike didn’t even realize he was sitting back on the bed until Buffy reached forward and gently pushed him on to his back before climbing on top of him and draping herself comfortably across his body.

He felt dazed and very confused. He remembered the call to Red, asking for her help, he even dimly remembered her feeding him and hearing her talk to Illyria about blood and a spell. He just wasn’t sure what had happened that had Buffy, a nearly naked Buffy at that, here with him in LA telling him she loved him, when the last he’d seen of her had been her dancing with the bloody poncy Immortal in Rome.

He tensed as his brain tried to play catch up, eyes darting around the room before coming back to rest on the face of the woman curled around him. His brain was unable to make the leap between being sure he would die without ever seeing her again, and finding her not only here… but also apparently here for him.




Buffy tightened her grip on Spike as she watched the confused emotions flow across his face. She had known that he was going to be surprised to see her. She’d even steeled herself for the fact that he might have moved on. What she hadn’t been prepared for was the panic and fright that had masked his features when he’d first woken up. He had acted like he wanted to get away from her, and until she had touched him it seemed to her like his demon was reacting to her, not the man.

Now he was here in her arms, she couldn’t help feel that as much as she’d enjoyed what they had just done to each other, she probably should have been stronger and waited to do the talking thing before jumping him.

But God I missed this, the way he feels, the way he touches me, the things he makes me feel.


Her eyes welled with tears as it hit her just how close she had come to losing him, again. It was the again word that had the tears drying up as her earlier and much more familiar anger returned.


Raising her head to look into his face she reached up with one hand to capture his chin and direct his gaze to hers.

“Ok Mister, you and I are going to have a little talk about why the hell you didn’t tell me you were back, and just what you thought you were doing coming to Rome and not letting me know. And while we’re on the subject Spikey, what in heavens name are you doing hanging around with - and I quote ‘the king of brood’?
You hate Angel!” Her voice dropped to a whisper at the pained look in his blue eyes. “Why Spike? Just tell my why you didn’t call?”




Spike stared at her, memories of the Hellmouth and his time at Wolfram and Hart rushing through his mind. All the love he’d felt for her that final day, and the anguish of missing her when he’d first returned.

Seeing her in Rome obviously happy and free dancing with another man had only brought home to him the fact that true or not, the words she’d said to him right before he died were meaningless. She had, despite her declaration, moved on to someone else.


Spike had, in those last tumultuous weeks at Wolfram and Hart, managed to find a certain level of peace, a belief in him self that hadn’t surfaced until he’d finally acknowledged that he and Buffy would never be. It was that acceptance and the knowledge that he was now his own man that had given him the strength to stay and fight by his grandsire’s side, regardless of his personal feelings.

And now here, at what he’d thought was going to finally be the end of his existence, was the Slayer… telling him that she loved him, asking why he hadn’t come for her.
And the final, terrible irony of it?

His eyes dropped away from hers, hiding his anguish from her.

Only a week ago this would have been a dream come true, Buffy coming for him, loving him, showing him with words and actions all the things his soul had yearned for. If it wasn’t so utterly typical of his fucked up existence he would have laughed.


She was the reason he’d found himself again, the reason he’d found the strength to fight what he knew would be his last battle. Seeing her happy had given him the strength to let her go and become worthy of the soul he’d won for her.

His slayer, always behind every action he’d taken, even before he first realized he’d loved her, and finally when his reason for being was in his grasp.

God it was all so fucking sad…

How the fuck could he tell her that he’d lost his soul?

Willow was still wiping the tears from her eyes as she and the others reached the lobby.
Her mind was so caught up with her thoughts of Buffy and Spike that it took Dawn calling her name a second time to get her attention.


Willow smiled widely at the young girl, and seconds later she had a squealing bundle of former key hugging her hard enough to practically leave her winded.



“So, he’s ok? You fixed him? Of course you fixed him. You’re Willow. Oh God Will, I, we were so worried. Buffy was freaking out on me and I don’t know what she would have done…”

Dawn’s babbling ceased abruptly as Giles stepped forward. The expression on his face eerily reminiscent of the last time Willow had done a spell behind his back.

Dawn backed off moving towards Tara, sensing that whatever he was about to say to Willow was not something that she needed to hear.


Ignoring Willow’s attempt at retreat, Giles took her by the arm, guiding her towards Angel’s office. Closing the door behind them as soon as they crossed the threshold, he turned to face the red head.

“I’m not even going to say it; I believed you had learned from your mistakes Willow, that you would never be so foolish to hide something this important from me again. Instead you risked coming here with little or no information, lied to Kennedy, and did spells that you had no experience with; much less knew the outcome of.”


He sighed heavily before removing his glasses and staring past her at the scarred surface of Angel’s old desk. Replacing the glasses, he met her shamed gaze, expression softening when he noted the tears welling in her eyes.

“I should say I’m disappointed, but frankly… well I’ve got my own sins to worry about, so haranguing you for yours right at this moment seems somewhat pointless”


At her puzzled, if not relieved look, his jaw clenched with unexpected emotion; the expression on her face reminding him so much of the shy uncertain child she’d been when they had first met.

Suddenly bone tired, as he had not been in years, he slumped back against the closed door.


“I take it that the spell was successful, that you managed to restore Spike, so I’m not going to go into the how and why’s at the moment. I’m much more interested in how the hell you managed to bring Tara back, than the fact that Spike has once again cheated death. Please explain to me exactly how you happened to resurrect someone that’s been dead for nigh on two years?”




Willow, whom until then had been doing her best to keep her emotions in check found herself overwhelmed with his words, with the reality of the past few days. It was as though Giles saying it made it real in a way it had not been before and to both hers and Giles dismay, she abruptly burst into tears.

Between hiccuped sobs and tentative back patting Giles found himself listening to her explanation with confused wonder, and by the time she was finished open horror.



“You mean to tell me that she’s been trapped all this time. That if it wasn’t for a mistake she would still be stuck there in the Hellmouth?” He shook his head as though to clear it even as Willow sobbed out the last of her explanation.

“Oh my poor dear girl… I, well… I don’t know what to say. It is a miracle Willow… a gift… to find her again like that… How could we have been so oblivious?” Closing his eyes against his own tears, he folded the young witch in his arms, rocking her as hers subsided.


Giles found himself totally at a loss, his earlier anger and worry gone, as the import of Willow’s words settled upon him. Tara was back and Willow was in no way at fault, in fact for once in her life one of her spells going wrong had actually turned out to be, well like he’d said, a gift.


Oh Bugger! Tara, and Kennedy? Damn. He’d yet to tell Willow that Kennedy was here, and poor Tara had no idea that her girlfriend was now someone else’s girlfriend.


“Willow sit for a moment would you? I believe there is something you should know before we return to the others.” Face grim, he indicated the only chair in the room.


Willow blinked in puzzlement but did as he asked.

*****************

Faith was pacing restlessly.

Dawn was chatting excitedly to Tara and Xander kept gnawing on his thumb throwing worried glances alternately between Angel’s office and the dark recess that led to the Hyperion’s basement.


Angel found himself pulled from his own brooding thoughts as the door to the office opened and Willow and Giles appeared.

Giles looked sad and pensive, Willow quiet and strained. The after affects of their talk evident in her red eyes and tear stained face.
Moments later the blonde girl that Willow had called Tara was at her side and it was though the sun had come out from behind a cloud. Willow’s face lit up with a joy that Angel found himself hard pressed to watch.


He observed Giles indulgent smile and noted the shy way the blonde returned Willow’s affectionate hug. Dawn’s obvious excitement and even Xander’s grin left him feeling even more out of the loop than he’d felt in years.

It wasn’t until Faith suddenly nudged him with her shoulder that he realised he was staring and pulled his attention away from the small group to face the dark haired slayer.


“You know what? I’m not even going to ask” Shaking his head he met Faith’s sympathetic gaze before retreating to the office that the others had so recently vacated.



Faith watched him go, her expression sad as she thought of how well she knew what it was like to be on the outside looking in, especially when it came to the Scoobies. Shrugging off her own melancholy thoughts, she strode over to the small group determined to find out what she had missed.



“So hey you guys! Wanna fill me in on the dealy with B and the bleached one? I take it from the whole calmness factor that it’s all good, but I’d still like to know what the hell is going on.”

Faith cocked an enquiring eyebrow. “And while we’re in answer and question mode, would someone tell me what the hell that Kennedy chick’s damage is? She normally go around attacking people for no reason, or is that a new thing?” The last was directed at Willow, who upon hearing Kennedy’s name paled, before shooting a worried look at Tara.


Giles frowned, Xander glared, and Willow shuffled nervously.



“Well?” growled Faith, patience never her strong suit, finally running out.



Giles, seeing that Faith was about to lose what was left of her temper cleared his throat.

“Faith I believe we should go and check on the other slayers, perhaps get something to eat while I fill you all in on what has been happening. Xander, Dawn, if you would like to join us, I’m sure that Tara and Willow would appreciate some time to talk.”

With a meaningful look at Xander, Giles steered a still fuming Faith towards the front door of the hotel.



Willow shot Xander a panicked look, her hand tightening unconsciously on Tara’s.



Dawn looked puzzled for a moment before sudden realisation had her tugging on Xander’s arm.

Xander had told her earlier about Kennedy’s less than friendly arrival but with all the excitement over Spike, it had slipped her mind. Biting her lip nervously, she pulled Xander towards the door.


Xander shrugged helplessly at the desperate look on Willow’s face, knowing that there was going to be no easy way for her to tell Tara about Kennedy, and that his presence was in this instance not going to help. Besides which, he really didn’t want to be around when Willow introduced the two of them to each other.

At Willow’s hissed “Xander” he turned to see her flushed and questioning look. It was then that he realised that Giles probably hadn’t filled her in on the whole caged in the basement thing.

Sighing wearily, he shot an apologetic look at Tara. “Um Will, could I have a word with you? You know, about that thing” Jerking his head he indicated that she should follow him as he moved through the front doors.


Willow turned to Tara smiling through gritted teeth. “Hey baby I’ll just be a minute. Be right back” she promised, giving the blonde a quick kiss before turning and following Xander out the door.


Tara turned questioning eyes to Dawn.


“Don’t ask me” offered Dawn with a roll of her eyes. “It’s not like they tell me anything” she finished trying her best to look her most clueless.

God! This day cannot end fast enough was her thought as she waited impatiently for Willow to reappear.

Less than a minute later to Dawn’s great relief, Willow returned, her expression tight and her stride determined.


“Well I’m out of here guys… catch ya later” Dawn practically ran from the hotel, in her rush to not be around for the coming drama.




Willow waited a moment until the doors of the hotel had closed behind Dawn, then taking a deep breath she took both of Tara’s hands in hers and led her to the circular couch. God this was hard. Giles had told her Kennedy was here but Xander had filled her in on the details. What the hell did Ken think she was doing, attacking Faith and Xander like that?


Tara looked at her quizzically. She had known Willow long enough to know when Willow was nervous, and the vibe she was getting from her girlfriend told Tara that Willow was very nervous. Heart sinking she met her lovers’ eyes with understanding.

“It’s ok sweetie. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m not gonna be mad baby.” Ducking her head, she studied their clasped hands before continuing. “It…It’s been a long time Will… and… and I know you thought I was de…gone. It’s that Kennedy girl isn’t it? She’s your… you’re with her … aren’t you?”

Glancing up she caught the stricken look on the redheads face, and it was enough.


Tara blinked rapidly fighting back the tears, the sudden pain in her heart feeling nearly physical as the enormity of loosing Willow hit her.

“I understand Will” she murmured, trying desperately not to cry. “I was gone it’s to be expected that…”



“No… No, Tara baby, No. You don’t... you can’t” blurted Willow, trying to swallow around the fist sized lump that seemed to be choking her. Shaking her head wildly she pulled Tara towards her.


Foreheads touching, Willow gulped as green eyes met sad blue.

“Oh baby” she whispered tenderly “don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter how long you were gone or who I’ve been with… It…they could never matter… not as much as you.” Willow reached for her lover, her fingers tingling as she laced their hands together. “The moment I woke up on that floor and realised what I’d done, nothing but you mattered.”

Eyes glittering with tears Willow breathed her lover’s scent in deep as she tightened her grip on the others hands.

“I-I thought that Kennedy and I had something… that it was love.” she admitted, her voice apologetic.


When Tara flinched she rushed to finish before the other woman had the chance to pull away.

“But it’s you Tara, it’s always been you, and if you want, it always will be.” Letting go of the others hands she brought hers up to cup Tara’s face.

“I missed you so much baby. And Ken… well Ken knows how I feel; I never hid my feelings for you, from her. I know she’s gonna be upset, and maybe even a little mad.” Willow frowned remembering Xander’s earlier words. “But Tara, sweetie, she has to understand… you’re back… and I love you. Oh God, you’re really back” gasped the redhead, swept away again on the tide of wonder that her lovers reappearance engendered.

At Willow’s words, Tara felt herself buckle with relief. She had been so sure that Willow was going to tell her that it was her new love she wanted, so sure that time had dulled what Willow had once felt for her.


“Oh baby…I missed you too” she sobbed, as Willow’s mouth came down on hers.



**********************


Kennedy paced angrily, cursing Faith, Xander Harris, Buffy, Spike, and just about everyone else, she could think of.

With a roar of fury, she turned and kicked out at the bars of her prison in another futile rage driven attempt at escape. It only succeeded in making her angrier and bruising her foot.

She had no idea how long she had been out. Anxiety, that with every wasted moment Willow could be hurt, or worse, ratcheted up with every minute she was trapped.


Glancing at her watch, she noted that she had been awake for nearly an hour and was no closer to being free. Growling with frustration, she once again studied the boundaries of the cage she was imprisoned in.

She had tried repeatedly to bend the bars, but whatever the cage had been made for had obviously been far stronger than a human, or apparently a slayer. Even the lock seemed to be tougher than the average store manufactured one. Her slayer strength was unable to mark it, let alone bend it to breaking point.

Pacing some more she tried to calm down, knowing that for once it was her brain not her brawn that would be the most likely way out of her current situation.
“C’mon Ken, c’mon there’s gotta be some way” she muttered.

Her mind swirled trying to think, her anger at Faith and her embarrassment over being beaten by Xander, distracting her, and making it harder for her to concentrate.

Willow? What would Willow do? She turned again making her way back to the front of the cage, her mind repeating the question. What would Willow do?

Huh! Dumbass that’s easy… one spell and poof she’d be outa here.

She froze. A spell? God I am so stupid.

The unlocking spell! The one Willow taught all the new slayers, just in case they ever found themselves…


Groaning, she smacked herself sharply in the forehead; unable to believe it had taken her all this time to remember the only stupid spell Willow had ever managed to teach her.
I must remember to thank Will for being so pushy with the teaching when I find her. Embarrassment coloured her cheeks as the memory of her scathing, ‘I’m a Slayer, and slayers don’t need magic’ speech.

Thank God Willow kept insisting that knowing how to unlock a lock might just come in handy one day.


Taking deep even breaths like Willow had showed her, Kennedy seated herself cross-legged on the hard concrete floor of her cell. Muttering the words to the spell, she cleared her mind and envisioned the lock clicking open. Less than a minute later, she was free.

Thirty seconds after that she was pushing the door to the basement open.



The door swung back slowly and Kennedy tensed, every muscle in her body ready for whatever she might find in the lobby… or so she thought.

Two figures were huddled together on the couch in the centre of the lobby. Kennedy squinted trying to make out their identity in the gloom. Seconds later she gasped in shock, her mind going blank as first her ears and then her eyes took in the sight before her.



“I love you… Oh God your really back” said a familiar voice. “Oh Baby…I missed you too” was the others reply, right before the woman Kennedy now recognised as her girlfriend, swept the other into a passionate kiss.



Mind blank, Kennedy screamed in rage.

“Get the fuck away from her you bitch.” lunging out of the shadows she ran straight towards Willow and the yet unknown woman.

Buffy stared up at Spike solemnly, waiting for him to explain, and still terribly frightened. What if despite his words and their earlier actions, he really didn’t love her?
What if he had been reacting honestly when he pushed her away? What if she’d somehow forced him?


Her thoughts slid to a stop in horror.

Oh my God! What if it was like the bathroom… except this time I was the one trying to make him… oh, please God, no.



Spike saw the tears, and the sudden horror on her face and he instinctively flinched back.

Christ she knows... she’s seen it… Please God… don’t let her hate me.

Panicked, he shot backwards attempting to get away from her yet again.



Buffy burst into tears and slumped onto the bed in a heap, her heart breaking as she watched the man she loved scramble for Willow’s discarded blanket.


As Spike turned his back to her Buffy searched the room franticly for what was left of her clothes, her only thought was to get dressed and get out of there before she did anything else to hurt him.

Seeing her obviously destroyed jeans, she cast her eyes around the room. Spying Willow’s bag by the end of the bed she grabbed for it, knowing that Willow however rushed, would have packed at least a couple of changes of clothes.



Her sudden movement had Spike whirling to face her and Buffy’s heart sank even more at his startled and horrified look. It only confirmed what she was sure was further evidence of her terrible crime. Unable to look at him a moment longer she grabbed the first suitable thing she could find and hurriedly dressed. She was halfway to the door when they both heard the screams.


“Get the fuck away from her you bitch!”


“Kennedy Noooo”


Buffy ran, dimly aware that Spike was close behind her.



Spike had been shocked when Buffy, instead of reaching for a stake, burst into tears.

He’d turned his back intending to make it somehow easier for both her and himself, but at her sudden movement a hundred and twenty years of instinct had him moving to face her. Steadying himself to meet her eyes, and her blow, he was shocked yet again when instead of attacking him, Buffy reached for a bag and proceeded to pull on a rather colorful skirt.


It was only when she headed for the door that his brain started to wonder what the hell the Slayer was up to. Then, before he could even form the words to ask, he heard a voice shout and Willow’s answering wail.


Without thinking, he reacted bolting from the room. Within a few paces he had overtaken Buffy and was halfway down the stairs.




At Kennedy’s first shriek, Willow’s head snapped up. Seeing the furious slayer barreling straight for them, the promise of death in her eyes, Willow, despite seven years on the Hellmouth and her witchyness, froze. It was not until Kennedy had reached them and was grabbing for Tara that Willow even found her voice. “Kennedy Noooo…”


Seconds later a white blur crashed into the enraged slayer, taking her to the floor of the lobby. Willow shrieked, Tara gasped, and Kennedy screamed in frustrated rage as Buffy slid to a stop meters from where a naked snarling Spike was attempting to keep the younger slayer pinned.



As Spike hit the lobby, he’d registered two things. The first, that somehow impossibly Tara was alive, and the second was that Willow’s current girlfriend, if the look on her face was anything to go by, was about to change that fact.


His protective instincts were fully aroused, as memories of Tara’s kindness and Willow’s grief surged to the forefront of his mind. Game face on he lunged for the younger slayer, determined that no one was going to hurt what his demon considered family.

Pinning her to the ground he snarled at her in warning, fangs poised to strike, only the knowledge that it wasn’t his place stopping him from ripping her throat out.



Kennedy struggled futilely, her anger changing to terror as she realized that Slayer or not the vampire holding her down was far stronger. Her eyes flew to Willow as Spike leaned down, fangs inches from her throat.


“Willow, help me he’s gonna kill me!” she shrieked, hysteria and fright making her forget for a moment that she was the one who’d been doing the attacking only moments ago.


Willow started forward instinctively before suddenly realizing that she still had Tara’s hand in hers. Looking down at their joined hands, she felt a sudden calmness descend.


“Actually Ken, I’m gonna have to go with ‘No’ on that one.”

Turing her head she acknowledged Buffy’s presence for the first time.

“Hey Buff, nice skirt”, she grinned, turning back to the vampire and the shocked slayer.
“So Spike, nice save… good to see you up and around by the way. Though I gotta say” she finished with a laugh “I’m seeing a lot more of you than I really needed to”.


Spike frowned before glancing down; game face melting away as he suddenly became aware of his undressed state.


At the horrified look on the vampires face Tara started to giggle and Willow and Buffy soon joined in.



“Bloody hell Red, wasn’t exactly worried about your poor virgin eyes, what with you lot making such a racket… if you like I can leave you to it?”
The last was said with a cocked eyebrow and a sardonic smirk, that Willow until then hadn’t realized she’d missed.



“What the fucks wrong with you Willow” snarled Kennedy, anger at there banter overtaking her previous shock and fright. “You should be killing this thing, you cheating bitch, not talking to it.”



Spike growled, blue eyes flickering gold and even Buffy found herself hard pressed not to go over and smack the younger slayer.



“That’s enough” hissed Willow, “Congelo”, she muttered gesturing towards the figures on the floor. Kennedy’s body froze at her words and Spike was once again strangely conscious of the fact that he was naked.



“Preciate that Red but do you ladies think you could find me something to wear, don’t fancy flashin’ anything more than I already have so if you could just…”
He made scooting motions with one hand while trying to look as casual as one could naked and on top of a slayer, that wasn’t his.

It was that last thought that brought back his earlier worries.


God… he’d nearly forgotten… what with all the fuss. The Slayer…Buffy, she’d never be his. Not now his soul was gone.



Lost in his own introspection he didn’t notice Tara leaving the room only to return moments later with a dark pair of sweats and a grey t-shirt.


“H-here Spike, Xander left these for you… they should fit.”

Tara blushed. Startled, Spike looked up at her, unknowingly flashing her far more than he would have liked.


“Right… thanks Glinda” he offered somewhat distractedly.

Motioning for them to turn around her levered himself of the still frozen body of Kennedy and hurriedly donned the clothes.

Clearing his throat, he looked up just in time to register the return of Illyria and the arrival of Giles, Dawn, Xander, Faith and what his senses were telling him appeared to be three very young slayers.



Bollocks was his only thought, as the young untried slayers, seeing what to them looked like a master vamp standing over the body of another slayer, instantly went into battle mode. Three stakes were produced before he could blink, their owners all rushing him at once.




Buffy reacted instinctively, rushing forward at full Slayer speed. Her only thought was to save Spike.

She was too late… someone else got there before her.



Illyria had moved so fast that to the others it was as though she’d teleported. One minute the three slayers were nearly upon him and the next Illyria appeared between them.

The first was backhanded and sent flying into the wall.

The second found herself hit in the chest so hard that she skidded across the floor of the Hyperion a good ten meters before coming to rest against the couch.

The third wasn’t as lucky, Illyria gripping her around the throat and holding her up. Feet kicking helplessly the Irish Slayer cursed in a brogue that would have done Angelus proud.



Ignoring her swearing captive Illyria met Buffy’s shocked gaze, the blue Gods features expressionless.


“You would dare this treachery against me! Blood of this shell has been shed so this half breed might be saved. I Illyria bow to no one, and yet I acquiesced to your request for help. Now you dare to attempt to destroy this one I have named pet.”

Fingers tightened around the redhead slayer’s throat, Illyria shaking her even as she advanced on the older slayer.



Buffy’s eyes darted between Illyria and the girl she now recognized as Meg.
One wrong move and she knew the world would be down one less chosen one.

A small mean part of her brain that sounded suspiciously like Faith suggested that the loss of Meg (nearly as big a pain in the ass as Kennedy) wouldn’t really be that big of a deal.
Ignoring the tempting advice of her brain, Buffy studied the ex God weighing up her options of attack, knowing that she might have only seconds to save the others life.



The tension in the old hotel was so thick you could have used a sword to cut it, never mind a knife.



Faith had also not been idle, though as a more seasoned slayer she had not rushed forward like the newbies.

Instead, she carefully and slowly circled around the little tableau intending to come at Illyria from behind.

She registered the return of Angel and his move towards the group. Noting with satisfaction that he to seemed to be maneuvering himself into a better position of attack.
It didn’t even occur to her to wonder whose side he was on.



Poetically, it was Spike, the catalyst of the tension that was the one to put an end to it.


“Oi Smurfette! What the bleedin’ hell do ya think your doin? Be a good little God King,” he coaxed “an put the nice baby slayer down”.

Coming up beside her slowly so as not to startle her, he continued to talk with amused nonchalance.

“C’mon Pet you don' know where she’s been… though with her being a bloody mick I could hazard a guess” he quipped wryly.


Illyria turned her gaze from Buffy’s to Spike’s, her expression quizzical.

“You would spare this humans life? Knowing she would kill you without thought? Are you so corrupted with humanity, that even now without a soul you still fail to see how beneath you they are. They are less to you than the filth upon your boot and yet you would plead for this one’s life.”




Spike tensed, his jaw tightening as he heard several gasps from around the room: his eyes never leaving the blue gods face, he desperately tried to avoid looking at Buffy to see her reaction to Illyria’s words.
Reigning in his despair, he shut his emotions down, determined to concentrate on the situation and not the rage he could feel building deep down inside him.



Opening his mouth to reply to Illyria’s question, he was stunned when Dawn stepped forward, fists clenched at her sides.



“You don’t know Spike at all if you have to ask that question”, she blurted
“Spike didn’t have a soul for ages, and he loved me. He fell in love with his mortal enemy without one, and he took care of me when Buffy was gone without one. He protected all of us for years without the stupid soul… even Xander. So why would he change now.”

Glare diverted from Illyria to himself, cheeks flushed with what Spike recognized as rage, she turned her attention to him.


He’d been too busy with the slayers to register the appearance of the younger Summer’s sister, now with her gaze on him, and the fierce and knowing look in her eye, Spike found himself chocking up with emotion.

Which was why, when she asked him the one thing he really did not want to be talking about any time soon, he answered with complete honesty.



“You still love Buffy don’t Ya?” she shot.

“Always Bit”

“And you love me too, even though I was being a dumbass last time we spoke?”

“Course, goes without sayin’, pidge” he choked out, fierce pride at Dawn’s protectiveness overwhelming him.


“And you would never hurt anyone here in this room without cause, would you?” At his thoughtful look she glared.

“Spike…” she threatened. “don’t make me have to hit you”


Spike ducked his head with a shamefaced grin. Strangely shy, he looked up to meet Dawn’s amused gaze.

“Don’t reckon I would nibblet… been off human blood for a while, don’t see no reason to change”


“Well then that’s that” Dawn stated, turning her attention back to the blue demon.

“Spike loves us, and we love him, so the whole protecty thing… sooo not your job. Right Buffy?” she asked, turning to her sister.


Both Dawn and Spike looked at Buffy, one expectantly the other with barely hidden fear.



Buffy for her part was still reeling from the vampire’s earlier words.
He loved her…Spike still loved her.

About to answer, Illyria interrupted, choosing that moment to take Spike’s advice by letting the younger slayer go.



Instead of running like a sensible person, she turned and lunged.

Whether it was Illyria or Spike that was her target, no one would ever know.
Buffy reacted without thought.


“GET AWAY FROM MY VAMPIRE YOU FUCKING IRISH COW!”



Meg for the second time that night found herself hoisted in the air, this time by a very pissed off Buffy.

She had a brief second to think ‘OH Shit’ before she found herself flying through the air and out the still closed doors of the Hyperion.



“Buffy NO” yelled Angel, wincing as the splintered remains of his doors swung back together.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, advancing on the furious slayer.



Before he could lay a hand on her, Spike was there, blocking his way.



“Back off Peaches, the Slayer don’t need you telling her what to do.”

“Keep out of this Spike, it isn’t your business” growled Angel.

Ignoring the other vampires answering growl he turned his attention back to Buffy.

“Well Buffy? I’m waiting…”



Buffy stared at Angel disbelievingly.

Where had he been for the last few minutes, and just where the hell did he get off yelling at her? Couldn’t he see that Meg was going to attack Spike… that she had tried to kill him only minutes before? What the hell was his deal?



Spike watched his slayers face, waiting for her to fold… to do the little girl thing. But instead of the expected love and contriteness, he saw a look he was very familiar with… disgusted anger. He gaped as Buffy advanced on the glowering Angel.



“Oh no you don’t, Angel. You don’t get to tell me what to do, and you really don’t get to judge me. You very nearly got Spike killed for the second time, and then you have the nerve to yell at me for protecting him? I’m not even gonna start on the whole Wolfram and Hart thing, or the fact that you yet again decided you know what’s best for me.” Her mouth turned down, anger warring with some other stronger emotion that Spike failed to recognize.

“How could you Angel? How could you not tell me he was back?”


“Spike? What the Hell has Spike got to do with this?” he shot back. “This is about you attacking a girl not much older than your sister… another Slayer”.


He glared, eyes flickering gold as he stared down at her, his expression one of disgust and disappointment.

“For Gods sake Buffy,” he snarled, “did screwing the Immortal damage your morals as well as your common sense?”



Spike smirked as Buffy’s face tightened with familiar fury.

OH yeah, he knew that look all right. Granddaddy was about to get his arse handed to him.

Giles had been watching the confrontation, first with worry then growing trepidation, but with Angel’s words, he found concern turning to fury.



“How Bloody dare you… You self righteous pillock!”



Buffy, on the verge of loosing her own fury on her former love paused, her attention diverted by her watchers sudden outburst.

Eyes wide with astonishment she stepped back as Giles pushed between them, his face twisted in an expression she hadn’t seen since the early days of Angelus.




“Listen up you berk, because I am only going to say this once.”

Giles voice was as cold as his fury as he faced the vampire.

“I’ve made a bloody lot of mistakes in my life, but the one I regret the most is not trusting in my slayer. Judging her because of one stupid decision she made when she was sixteen years old very nearly cost the existence of every single person on this planet. Thinking I was better able to judge and decide how she should live her life and with who, is my cross to bear. But...”

He glanced at Buffy his expression apologetic.

“I know when to admit, I’ve been a total arse. You however”, he shot with a glare, “knew as well as any of us how badly Buffy felt about Spike’s demise, but you unlike I had intimate first hand knowledge about his resurrection. You knew he still had his soul… and I suspect you also knew how much he loved Buffy. Yet you failed to inform any of us that he was back. You made a decision that was not yours to make… nor, I am ashamed to say, was it mine. Yes” he admitted shamefacedly,
“I have known months that Spike was back, and to my eternal regret I chose to keep silent because at the time I told myself that I didn’t have all the facts. Facts which you were in full possession of.”


Hazarding a glance over Angel’s shoulder at the slayer, Giles winced, the look on her face was carefully blank, but her eyes glittered with fury.

Shoulders slumping he stared hard at Angel before continuing.

“I at least had the excuse of being her bloody watcher… No… more than that. She is my daughter, in every way that counts. So I hope that she will understand, if not forgive my blind spot when it comes to her wellbeing. However, I will say this Angel. If I had known that the man that came back, was the same one that sacrificed his life in the Hellmouth, I would have been the first one to tell Buffy about his return. Hell”, he offered blithely, “I would have brought her a bloody plane ticket and wished them both well. I was a stupid fool,” he stated, eyes turning to the younger vamp “I am not ashamed to admit it, here and now”.


Meeting the blond vampire’s eyes, he nodded.


“Spike is a champion, and a good man. Moreover he is everything I could wish for Buffy. And I will never again doubt that… or my slayer.”



Straightening his spine, his eyes swung back to lock with those of the now furious Angel, carefully avoiding the temptation to look at Buffy again.


“You knew Angel. All that we knew, and more. And yet you stand here berating her about her choices. Spike very nearly died in your pointless fight, and you still refuse to give him any credit.”


He stared hard at the vampire before continuing.


“For pity sake Angel, grow up. Stop living in the past. Everybody with eyes can see that they love each other, and that whatever you think the two of you have is long dead. As for her liaison with the Immortal?”

Successfully resisting the urge to check to see if his glasses needed a good cleaning, he cleared his throat before continuing.

“It was her decision to make and I trust her judgment. If Buffy thinks he was worthy of her attention, who are you to doubt her... or her choices.”



Angel growled low in the back of his throat, hands clenching tighter with the watchers words. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Giles reached forward and poked him firmly in the chest with his finger.

Each subsequent forceful poke, underlining his next words.

“SHE,” poke “IS,” poke “NOT,” poke “YOUR,” poke “GIRL.”


When Angel’s warning growl made another appearance, Giles quickly retracted his finger, but refused to back down.


“You have no right at all to make decisions for her, and you certainly have no right to tell her what to do. Any claim you might once have had was forfeited the day you left Sunnydale.”


Pride echoed in his voice as he stared the vampire down.


“She is no longer a child; she is a woman and a warrior, seasoned by circumstances you have no conception of. To be frank I find your actions to be insulting, both to her calling and to Buffy herself.”



With those words, Giles turned his back on the strangely unmoving vampire, concerned only with the damage he had most likely done to his relationship with his slayer. Facing Buffy, eyes averted he addressed his next words to her.


“Buffy, I am most sincerely sorry. I know that it will not change what I have done in the past, and I fully understand if you no longer wish to have me in your life.” Clearing his throat nervously, he continued.

“I will not try to defend myself in any way. You are my slayer; I should have trusted you to know what was best concerning Spike. And I should have come to you when I first learned of his return. My actions, in hindsight, were at the best unthinking, and I have no excuse, other than my inability to accept that it has been a long time since you have needed or wanted my guidance.”


Raising his eyes, he braved what he knew would undoubtedly be her look of disgust and disappointment.


Instead of the condemnation he expected, he met a gaze that was brimming with tears. Confused, he glanced to where Spike hovered in the background, but he found the expression on the blond vampires face to be just as unfathomable.


Taking the opportunity while he had the vamps attention he addressed his next words to him.



“Spike… regardless of my earlier words, I wish to take this opportunity to apologize to you, publicly. I was blinded by council doctrine, and unduly influenced by my experience with Angelus. I was wrong to judge you the way I did."

He cleared his throat decisively.

"Especially, as I myself was there to witness the changes in you. I ask that you accept my apology, both for not seeing you clearly before the soul, and for turning a blind eye to the reason you got one." As the vampire opened his mouth to speak his hand came up, motioning for Spike to wait.

"No, let me finish…"He said firmly.

“You Spike, did something absolutely unprecedented; you knowingly went looking for your soul. And I failed in my duty as both watcher and man, by ignoring such an amazing feat. For that I am truly sorry. As to the revelation that you no longer have a soul… I believe your earlier actions speak for themselves.”


Spike tensed at Giles words, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

If he had needed to breathe, he would have been in trouble. The watchers next words found him abruptly breathless with shock.



“You could have quite easily killed Kennedy tonight.”


“No sad loss” muttered Dawn.


“Yes well, quite.” Giles coughed, suppressing a grin before continuing. “Not only did you fail to kill her, you also refrained from defending yourself against three unknown slayers. Therefore, I think it’s fair to say… Soul shmole.”

He smiled briefly at the look on Spike’s face, before his tone turned serious again.

“I see the man you are, not the monster you were. Souled or not, it seems to me you are as I said, a good man, and I am truly glad you are back with us. Anyway, apologies aside, I will collect the girls and be out of your hair as soon as pos….”



Giles didn’t get a chance to finish; the wind was nearly knocked out of him as he found himself being hugged by a teary Buffy.


“Oh Giles of course I forgive you.” she whispered.

Burying her face in his jacket, she tried vainly to control the sob she could feel threatening to burst out.

Looking up at him, she smacked his chest lightly, trying to get her emotions under control.


“That doesn’t mean you and I aren’t gonna have words Mister, we need to have a serious talk about trust and boundaries…but Giles,” she smiled at him her expression soft. “I know you only ever did the stuff you did coz you care. I’m not saying it was ok… just that I understand.”

Blinking away the tears still threatening to fall, she hugged him again.

“It means a lot that you apologized… to both of us. And it means even more that you really believe what you said... thank you.”




Angel had watched the whole exchange with growing disbelief. He could not believe that Buffy was ignoring him in favor of her watchers sickening words. How could the girl he had loved for so long, be so different from what he remembered?


“Buffy” he started, only to be pulled up short by Faith’s hand tugging on his arm

Temporarily diverted from his intended lecture, he turned to face the dark haired slayer.

“What” was all he managed before Faith interrupted whatever he had been about to say.


“Whoa big boy…time to back off. You really don’t wanna go there again.”


Eyes meeting hers, Angel was disturbed to notice that her gaze was not only serious but also vaguely threatening.



“Listen up Angel, you are so far from right at the moment, that you’re not even in the same country. Buffy has made her feelings clear, and you need to respect them.”


“But…”


“No buts Angel, you fucked up” she stated, her grip on his arm tightening.

“It’s like Giles said, it’s her life, and you are not part of that life. So I suggest you quit while you’re ahead… or at least still undead.”



Angel’s jaw dropped. Had everybody gone mad? Didn’t they see that he was only trying to do what was best for Buffy?


He turned back to see Buffy’s reaction to Faith’s words, and found her grim expression focused on him.



“Buffy you cannot possibly…”


“Angel” she cut in harshly.

“What Giles said… ditto times two for me. You need to get the hell away from me and Spike, before I forget that I ever loved you at all. Coz, right now, I’m having a hard time remembering even liking you, let alone anything else.”



She stared at him, the full glare of a pissed off damage bound slayer, and Angel felt his soul shrink in fear.


Eyes darting around the room, he found no help; every other person in the room was looking at him with some measure of disgust or anger.

Everyone that is, except for Spike.


Spike had a huge smirk on his face, which quickly turned to a genuine smile as his eyes fell on the still furious look on Buffy’s.



Angel, contrary to popular opinion, was not a stupid man. He knew when to pick his battles and this was not it. Without another word, he turned and went back to his office.



“Wow, I thought he’d never leave” Xander drawled, crossing the room to hug his friend.


Buffy giggled before slapping him.

“Be nice Xan, I think Mr Broodypants got the message. And what the hell are you doing in LA anyway?”



“Ahh… Buff, I could tell you a tale of daring and wonder, of secret rescue missions in the dead of night…” He sighed dramatically.

“But” He admitted with a grin “I’m too beat to even start. Oh, by the way” he offered turning to the remaining vamp.

“Good to see ya Dead Boy Junior, and I don’t believe I’m saying this but … thank God you’re here, cos I kinda missed your undead pain in the ass self. And… Oh yeah, what the hell was up with you not calling the Buffster?”

He glared, smacking the vampire in the chest with the back of his hand.



Spike for his part shook his head, before putting his finger in his ear and wiggling it around.


“Oi Red, you haven’t gone and done some wonky spell have you? Cos I’m either hearing things or I somehow ended up in one of those alternate dimension thingies.”

Face twisted in a sarcastic grin, he gasped in mock horror. “Fuck! Please tell me there’s still shrimp.”



Giles was the first to burst into laughter, the others quickly following.



The slayers, those that were still conscious and not frozen, kept darting bewildered looks at each other, none of them sure what had just happened.



Illyria, taking in the merriment on the faces before her, frowned. Turning away rather than confront them, she silently exited the building.



As the others gathered around, excited babbling and laughter coming from all parties, Buffy found herself smiling, the first real smile she’d had in what seemed like years.

Spike felt like he was living in one of his dreams. He had his nibblet tucked up under his arm and Buffy by his side. For added surrealism, throw in the watcher and the whelp offering to buy him dinner and he was one very bemused vampire.


He kept throwing quick darting looks Buffy’s way, trying to work out what the hell he was gonna say to her when they were finally alone.


Sure, he’d heard her defend him. The whole ‘get away from my vampire’ thing was still giving him the warm fuzzies. And yeah, ok, earlier she’d climbed him like a tree and about shagged him cross-eyed.

But this was Buffy, she of the changing moods. Never did know whether she would kiss him or hit him.


Back in Sunnydale, when he was soulless the first time, it wouldn’t have bothered him, but now even without his soul he found himself hoping that maybe he’d been wrong earlier.


Upstairs when she’d jumped him he’d figured it was just some knee jerk reaction to finding out he was still in the world, Ok that and a whole heaping of pent up lust.

When she’d said the words he’d mostly been dazed. Her popping him in the nose had seemed more real to him than her ‘I love you’.

Now after seeing her reaction in front of her friends and family… well he couldn’t help himself. Hope had reared its ugly head.

Soddin Hell! Could she have meant it? Did Buffy really love him?


Turning from giving Tara a hug, which from the witches reaction, had quite a bit of slayer strength behind it, he watched her laugh at something Willow said. Flushed and giggling Buffy looked up, catching his gaze.


Time stood still for the vampire. Arm dropping from around Dawn, he pulled up short as it hit him again. She was here… Buffy was actually here in LA and she didn’t seem unhappy to see him.



God, she was glowing, he had never seen her look more beautiful.

She had lost the gaunt haunted look she had carried in Sunnydale. Her hair was longer than he could ever remember seeing it, golden and flowing like a waterfall of sunshine.
Eyes still the changeable hazel that he had pictured so clearly in his mind.
Green now, with suppressed emotion. The color of her eyes often his best indicator of her mood. He had often been able to judge her needs just from the shade they reflected. Even now, in what he realized had to be one of Willow’s skirts; she still managed to look radiant.


Rome had obviously done her the world of good; he had never seen her look so carefree, so… effulgent.


Giving himself a mental eye roll at his use of that particular word, his mind shifted to darker thoughts… namely, the poncy bloody Immortal.


Where was her new sodding boy toy? Stupid git, can’t have been as good as all that… not if how she’d gone at him upstairs was anything to go by.

He scowled, just the thought of that bastard touching her made his blood boil.


Huh! What was that?

He shook his head. Shit, Buffy had asked him something and he’d been so busy broo… thinking, yeah thinking, that was it. Now he’d gone and completely missed it.


Bollocks, now she was giving him ‘The Look’. The one that meant she was pissed coz he’d not been paying attention.

Course, in the past it was usually because he’d been so busy staring at her bits that he’d got distracted. That or he’d started thinking about their latest shagging session and how he could get her alone, so they could do it again.


Fuck, c’mon mate think of something, she’s waiting.



“ Sorry pet, what was that? Dunno where my mind is… must be the spell. Still a bit foggy from the mojo, luv.”

He threw her his best repentant look and waited.



Buffy’s eyebrow arched delicately, a knowing smirk settling on her features.


“I asked if you were ok? You were looking… well, pissed is the word that springs to mind.”



Eyes darting over her shoulder he noticed that the Scoobies and the slayers were a good way ahead; they hadn’t seemed to notice that the slayer and the vampire had stopped to talk.

Ducking his head, not willing to meet her eyes, Spike shuffled his feet nervously. What the fuck was he supposed to say to her?


Unfortunately, Spike’s mouth did that thing again, the thing that nearly always got him punched in the nose. It opened intending to reassure her, but what came out was nothing his brain had given the ok on.



“So Slayer, where’s the boyfriend?” he drawled.

“Thought you two were all hot n’ heavy?

Mind you, it’s not like I’m complaining luv… what with the shaggin' an all, just doesn’t strike me as the sharing type… well not less he’s the one doing the sharing,” he added, leering smirk firmly in place.



Buffy rolled her eyes, her automatic “God, Spike, you’re a pig” rolling off her lips without a second thought.



“Now now Slayer, don’t be like that,” he murmured, eyes running over her body suggestively. “S’ not like I’m gonna tell him, just wondered is all.”


Moving closer he ran one finger up her arm. Head tilted and tongue curling behind his teeth, he leaned in.

“You know me Buffy… keeping secrets what m’ best at… s’pecially when it comes…” he smirked, “to you”.



Buffy shivered, her vision going a little swimmy around the edges. Mmm innuendo Spike… oh yeah she remembered this.



Spike for his part watched her, waiting for her reaction.

Studying her through lowered lashes, lips parted expectantly, he was stunned when instead of her usual blushing and denial she moved forward, right up against him.

Nestled in close to him she looked up, pouting, before leaning up to purr breathily into his ear.



“Hmm Spikey, it’s been a while, but I seem to remember you being pretty good at other things. Course, maybe I’m remembering wrong. Maybe you need to remind me.”


At his stunned and lust filled look, she bit back a moan, deciding that after his earlier snarkiness he deserved a bit of torture.


“Of course if you’re…" she looked down pointedly, "not UP for it, I’m sure I still have Armando’s number somewhere.”



Spike’s eyes glittered gold with her words, his cock achingly hard the moment she’d looked down. However, at the mention of the Immortals name, the demon snarled and Spike felt his control slipping. Fangs threatening to burst through his gums he grabbed her by her upper arms, hauling her in and up against him.


“I’ll show you up for it” he rasped. Head swooping in, he captured her lips in a fierce and passionate kiss.



Buffy gasped, lips opening under his, she melted into him, his skillful tongue stroking the roof of her mouth. His arms slipped around her tightly, pushing his erection hard up against her stomach.


Pulling back to let her breath he took in the dazed lust driven look she was directing his way.

“Fuck pet… I missed you… wanna taste you Buffy. Wanna be inside you”



Buffy whimpered, one leg coming up to wrap around his hip, grinding forcefully against his cock she managed to gasp “Yes Spike… God Yesss”


Permission stated, Spike hauled her the rest of the way up his body, her legs wrapping around him tightly as he maneuvered them back into a nearby sheltered doorway.


“God Slayer, gonna make you feel so good… gonna make you scream… fuckin hell luv… need you now” he panted.

“That’s it pet” he encouraged as Buffy tightened her hold, mouth nipping at his throat and jaw.


Hands stroked hungrily across her back moving down to cup her ass, pulling her in closer, he thrust upwards towards her warmth.


“Never letting you go Buffy” he murmured. “No one’s ever touchin' you again. Fuckin' no one. You’re mine, slayer... mine. Tell me Buffy… tell me… say it” he gasped out, the heat from her center causing his eyes to roll back in his head.



“Only you Spike… nobody else... ever… yours Spike, only yours” she whimpered in agreement.



For Buffy the world had disappeared completely, there was only her need for Spike and his for her. The words he was saying, the way he was touching her… only these things were real. It had been so long and she had missed him so much, it didn’t even occur to her to worry that her friends and sister were only meters away.

Which is why they were both startled when an amused voice unexpectedly shattered the moment.


“Ewww… get a room you guys, impressionable younger sibling here. Can’t you save the macking for somewhere more private? God I’m scarred for life”. Dawn muttered, grinning as her sister and the vampire jumped apart as though scalded.



“Jesus Bit, might wanna warn a bloke before you sneak up on him like that” huffed Spike, desperately trying to conceal his erection within the folds of the coat he had nicked from Angel.



Buffy for her part just gaped. Glaring at Dawn, as if she was on her list of things to be slayed, she gritted her teeth.

Attempting to think of something other than the ache between her thighs, the slayer stepped in front of the vampire.


“What Dawn, is so important that you coudn’t have waited till we got to the restaurant? Spike and I were… talking. Rude much” she stated haughtily, trying to do her best to look like she hadn’t, only moments before, been on the verge of screwing Spike’s brains out. Again.


Unfortunately, Spike chose that moment to slide up in close behind her, the very noticeable hardness pushing into her back, subsequently causing her voice to rise alarmingly in pitch.


Dawn snickered, Spike chuckled and Buffy blushed so brightly that she thanked God it was dark.



“C’mon kitten, Lil sis is right. We can… ‘talk’… later” he offered, his brief pause earning an eye roll from Dawn and a lust tainted shiver from the slayer.


Meeting his eyes, Buffy was pleased to note that as much as he was playing it cool in front of Dawn the dilated look to his pupils told a different story.


Smiling smugly she reached up to give his cheek a lingering kiss. “Sure thing Spike, I’ll look forward to that” she offered sweetly, before turning, hips swaying, in the direction of the restaurant.


Dawn, noting the glazed look on the vampire’s face, sighed.

Oh brother, I hope Willow still remembers that soundproofing spell. Cos there is no way, not unless deafness is a definite option that I’m staying in the same hotel as those two, never mind the same suite.


Still muttering darkly under her breath about oversexed vampires and big sisters needing to get room, preferably in another state, Dawn trailed after them.


Her lips quirked into a smile as she watched the slayer’s hand first brush, and then slip shyly into Spike’s.

Grinning openly, Dawn did a mental Snoopy dance, before following them through the door.

.





When Spike and Buffy entered the restaurant, the others had already commandeered a table in the back, though the younger slayers, still unsure of Spike, were seated at the far end.


Catching the eye of the now conscious Meg, Spike smirked.


Good thing her eyes aren’t stakes or I’d be a big pile of dust before I even sat down.He chuckled ruefully. Here I am about to sit n’ break bread with five slayers… how time does change things, he thought with amusement, even as he unconsciously pulled out a chair for the oldest of them.



Seating himself next to his slayer, he was dragged from his musings when Giles rather obviously cleared his throat.


“Before we eat” Giles began, glancing around the table at the varied occupants

“A thought occurred to me on the way here and as much as I would like to leave it until after, I feel a certain amount of urgency to broach the subject now rather than later” he turned to address Willow, waiting as she reluctantly tore her gaze from Tara.

“Willow you mentioned that Illyria rang you on Spike’s behalf?”

At Willow’s puzzled nod he continued.

“Am I to understand from earlier snippets that Illyria possesses much of the hosts memories?”


Spike and Willow glanced at each, both of them nodding.


Giles smiled in relief.

“Well that would explain how she had your mobile telephone number. I expect that Fred likely memorized it the last time you were in LA. Well now that’s sorted I feel much better. Loose ends, and all that. So shall we order…?”


“Umm Giles. Not as sorted as you thought,” admitted Willow her expression worried.

“Hows that?” he asked his expression mirroring hers.

“I didn’t think of it earlier” she offered with a frown. “what with Spike and the teleporting, then there was the whole Tara thing and Buffy turning up and Kennedy and… and you know all that,” she said, voice faltering at Giles impatient look.

“I mean, I never even gave a thought to how Illyria got my cell number, not until you mentioned it. But Giles, she can’t have used Fred’s memories.” offered Willow before biting her lip nervously.

“Ok yeah I’m sure Fred had my number, but that cell isn’t the one she called me on….”

“Point, Red, get to it” teased Spike.


Giles shot him a thankful look, as Willow, a blush staining her cheeks muttered, “Sorry” before continuing.

“A demon ate the old one two weeks ago,” she admitted brightly.


Spike, Dawn and Xander all snickered, Buffy glared at the three of them.

“It happens people.” she shot indignantly, while carefully avoiding her watchers eye.



Giles, whose eyes had widened with Willow’s statement narrowed at Buffy’s.

“Hmm stolen was it?”

Buffy grinned weakly,

“Yeah… well technically, I just didn’t tell you by what.”


“Right then,” he huffed “well back to the matter at hand.” shooting her a dark look, he turned his attention back to the witch.

“If as you say, Willow, a demon ate your mobile then it seems we have a bit of a conundrum. How then was Illyria able to contact you?”


All eyes turned to Spike.


“Don’t look at me people, I was busy being unconscious. Come to think of it I don’t rightly remember speaking to Illyria at all, let alone askin' her to give you a bell. Vaguely remember talking to Red here but that was after Illyria called her.”

He shrugged, a thoughtful expression settling on his features even as he turned his attention to the watcher.

“So Rupes looks like we got a bit of a mystery on our hands, yeah?”


“Hmm” Giles looked thoughtful. “Well as I suspect Illyria is the one with the answers, and as she is not here at the moment I suggest we eat first and sort the rest out when we go back to the hotel.”




The Hellmouth veterans took him at his word, all of them flipping open menus and chattering amongst themselves. The new slayers shot worried looks at each other before following suite.


His attention turning again to Willow, Giles couldn’t help his fond smile as he took in the glow of peace that surrounded the redhead.

Distracted from his worries for the moment he took the time to appreciate their changed circumstance.



Less than a week ago Willow had been traveling comfortably along life’s road, seemingly content with her work with the new council and her relationship with Kennedy.

It was only seeing her reunited with Tara that Giles realized just how much Sunnydale and the events of the last few years had burdened the young witch.

Sitting at the table with Tara and her friends it was as if the clock had been turned back and they were in the presence of a younger more carefree Willow.


His attention drifting to Spike and Buffy he noted a similar change in that of his slayer. Gone was the constant strained and controlled look that she adopted whenever in company, replaced with a certain shyness and barely concealed joy that he had not seen in years.

The vampire too looked happier than Giles could ever recall seeing him, his eyes barely straying from the slayer’s face as she talked animatedly with her sister.

Even Xander seemed somehow lighter, as though with the reforming of old circles the burden of guilt he felt at the death of his beloved Anya had lessened to some degree.

Giles was also interested to note that Faith seemed to be giving the young man a level of attention that if he was any judge seemed a touch more than just friendly.

The young slayer Meg still looked sullen, the other two withdrawn, none of them seemed willing to engage with the others.

But it was Meg that his concerns were focused on. He didn’t like the dark looks she kept throwing at the newly healed vampire or his slayer.

He would need to talk with all of them before the night was out.

And then of course there was Kennedy? What on earth was he going to do about the girl? She was obviously out of control.

Her earlier attack on Tara though not excusable was certainly understandable; it was her attitude towards Spike and the whole LA situation that had him stymied. He could see no reason for her continuing hate of the vampire, and her obvious jealousy of Buffy was a matter that he would have to consider seriously.

Of course even back in Sunnydale the girl had been stronger willed and more confrontational that the other potentials, with the possible exception of Rona.

However, Spike had proved his worth there at the end so he failed to see why the girl hated him still. Bloody stupid girl acted like she had been personally wronged by his return, it was just as well that Willow’s spell would hold her for the next hour or so, it would give him time to make some decisions concerning her.


In and attempt to shake of his re encroaching worries and introspection, Giles focused his attention on the menu and the growling of his stomach.


**********************



Angel was sitting in his office trying to decide what his future was going to look like when the sound of laughter and several different girlish voices, all talking at once, alerted him to the fact that Buffy and the others were back.


He scowled, thinking of her earlier words before deciding that he had better go and see just how long they planned to be hanging around his hotel.

His already foul mood did not improve when one of the first things he noted was the way Buffy was clutching Spike’s hand.


Studying them from the doorway of his office, he could not help thinking of Buffy’s cookie speech. Baking indeed? Looked more like she was giving up the cookie dough raw. The way she was looking at Spike it would not surprise him.

And Spike? The bain of his existence, the biggest pain in the ass he had ever had the displeasure to meet, was looking like the cat that ate a whole flock of canary shaped cookies.


He was so locked in brood mode that, moments later, he nearly didn’t notice Illyria’s return through the kitchen entrance.


She paused in the kitchen doorway seeming to hesitate at the sight of the slayers and Scoobies before skirting the crowd to head upstairs.


Angel frowned, distracted from his sour grapes by her very un-Illyria like behaviour.

He watched as she paused at the top of the stairs, confusion clouding his eyes as she turned to study the group below with an expression on Fred’s stolen features that was very out of place on the God Kings.

She looked distraught, as if she was remembering something that gave her pain. Her hands, normally as rigid as her posture were clasped together and clutched close to her chest. That, with her earlier furtive entry had alarm bells ringing for the souled vampire. At the moment despite her coloring and dress she looked very like the Fred he remembered bringing back from Pylea.



Illyria, watching from the balcony, frowned.

She was not used to her presence being ignored. She was even less used to the strange feelings that she was currently experiencing.

Her chest felt tight, her breath coming in shallow pants. The sound of the laughter triggering emotions that she was not equipped to deal with.

The humans, who should have, by right, bowed before her quailing in fear for their miserable lives, acted as though she was of no consequence.


Illyria found herself strangely lost, the emotion she failed to recognize as loneliness washing over her.

Her vision blurred as the memory of Wesley’s face swam before her eyes.

Remembering that Wesley had ceased to exist, the deep ache in her chest intensified. How was she to endure this world without him to guide her? She had no understanding of these creatures, no conception of her purpose now that she was so diminished.

Her world and her armies were gone, her form altered, mirroring those for which she had only contempt. She wallowed now in emotions that felt both alien and repugnant. Who was left to guide her, to serve her, now that her kingdom was no more?

Even her pet no longer feared or revered her. He who should bow to her, thankful that she had deigned to notice one so low; he too had turned his back on her for the love of a mortal.


Unknowing, tears ran down the Gods cheeks, remnants of Fred’s emotions pushing to the surface.


She, Illyria, had ruled for millennia, her power unchallenged and unchecked. She had known no joy, nor pity. What was rage or fear to a God? Such emotions as these were beyond her comprehension.

The lives of those she ruled of no consequence, she was A GOD, her rights and desires unchallenged. She lived only to command, and all that failed to do her will perished without thought. If she wished it, it was no more than her right.

How was she to make her way in this alien land… in this puny shell, fettered to this world, trapped within a form she had not asked for?

For time out of memory, she had slept in the Deeper Well, waiting for the day when she would be reborn to her former glory. Now that promise was dust, as was her world. They had stripped her of her power, taken her destiny.

Only Wesley had kept her from madness. He had challenged her, intrigued her with his defiance and loathing. His anger over the death of the shell’s former owner at odds with his need to understand the creature that had caused that death.


Illyria unknowingly, when she had offered to lie to him, had opened up something deep inside of herself.

Emotions, something she had never known, pouring through the doorway until she had felt like she was drowning in them.

The half-breed named it grief: this strange churning she felt at Wesley’s end. It was to be only the first.

Her need to restore the vampire, fueled by the knowledge that Wesley would want it, served no one. She was Illyria, what care had she for the desires of a dead human.

Why did this salt tinged liquid flow from her eyes? What purpose could feeling bring?

She had seen the depth of emotion in Wesley’s eyes when he thought she was not observing him. Even if she did not understand his pain, she was well able to recognize the emotion in others. Why would any being wish to feel such emotion? It brought only despair and confusion.



Illyria’s mind boiled with her confusion, lost in growing helplessness, a single dark eye studied the former God King.

The expression on her face, for Xander, evoked the memory of another demon that like Illyria had found herself trapped in a form and existence that was beyond her conception or control.

He watched the different emotions flit across her face, thinking about Anya, remembering how hard it was for her when she had first become human.

Seeing the tears on her cheeks Xander extracted himself from the group and moved up the stairs.

Buffy was frustrated and impatient. All she wanted was to be alone with Spike so they could ‘talk’, (ok so she wasn’t kidding anyone there, she wanted to do a lot more than just talk) but everyone seemed determined to keep them from getting the alone time she desperately needed.

Even Spike didn’t seem like he was in any hurry to part company from her friends and watcher, never mind her sister, who was grasping his arm like she had no intention of letting him out of her sight for the foreseeable future.

If Illyria hadn’t told them he’d lost his soul it was doubtful that any of them would have known about it. Gone was snarky sarcastic Spike who would have done anything to get her alone, replaced by this new calm Spike that seemed to feel the need to find out everything he’d missed in the lives of the people who he’d spent the better part of seven years barely tolerating.


Jeez where was selfish soulless Spike when she needed him?



Spike for his part was having the time of his unlife. Not only were the others treating him with respect, while continuing to ignore Angel’s glowering presence, the slayer herself was fairly radiating her impatient frustration with him.


She kept trying to catch his eye, dropping none too subtle hints about how tired everyone must be, and wasn’t it about time they all thought about hitting the sack.


His nibblet never slow on the uptake was taking particular delight in tormenting her sister, clinging to him like a limpet.

He watched in amusement as, for the fifth time in as many minutes, Buffy’s attempt to get him alone was thwarted by her little sister launching into yet another story consisting of ’what I did in Rome this summer’.


He was pretty sure he actually heard the slayer growl when Dawn, instead of paying attention to her repeated interruptions, just rolled her eyes and continued to regale him with her adventures.


God how he’d missed brassed off Buffy. There was nothing quite like a pissed off slayer. Especially now that he was fairly certain that the reason she was pissed off had nothing to do with her dislike of him. More to the point, it seemed that it had everything to do with how much she liked him, maybe even loved him?



Caught up in his thoughts of Buffy, Spike was startled back to himself by Xander’s very vocal yelp.



Xander had mounted the stairs with one thought in his head. Anya, the strange blue ex God reminded him of Anya.


Reaching the distressed being’s side, without thought Xander reached out and attempted to comfort her. His hand made contact with her shoulder but before he could voice the words that were forming on his lips, the ex god whipped around glared at him coldly and then flipped him over her shoulder and straight into the wall.

Moments later he found himself struggling for breath as the former God yanked him up into the air, her supernaturally strong hand gripping his throat.


Illyria studied the being that had dared to lay hands on her, the expression on her face, had she known it, one of relief. The emotions that had threatened to overwhelm her only moments ago pushed out by the welcome rage she felt at his actions.

She wondered idly how long it would take the mortal to die from lack of oxygen, his face was already mottled red from the lack of air, and his one eye was rolling in panicked desperation as his hands clawed at her arms.


So lost in her study of Xander it took the former God several seconds to register that someone else was attempting to get her attention.



Spike’s head whipped around and he cursed as he took in the sight of Illyria gripping the throat of an already half-chocked Xander.

Still a bloody demon magnet I see… Was Spike’s first thought as he raced towards the stairs.


“Oi bluebell, what’s the whelp done to deserve all the attention?” He snarked loudly in an attempt to distract her long enough to get to the flailing boy.


“If you’re that bored Highness, how about you put the boy down an’ you an’ I have a go?” Moving cautiously towards her Spike did his best to seem unconcerned as he met her deadly glare.



Illyria studied the blonde vampire dispassionately; her eyes crawling over his features before switching back to the human she still held dangling in her grip.


Spike’s own eyes narrowed as the look on the former God King’s face shifted, her expression changing to some unnamed emotion that Spike couldn’t begin to guess at.


Shrugging off his sudden uncomfortable feeling of danger Spike smirked and moved closer to the ex God.


“C’mon Lyry, why waste your time playing with somthin’ so breakable when I’m here?” He teased slyly. “Look at him pet, he’s half dead already… where’s the fun in that?”

He grinned at her, his head tilted in a knowing manner as he ran his eyes over her in a way that he knew was sure to piss her off.


“So blue, how about it? What’s it gonna be…you an’ me just like old time’s…” he asked, brow arched inquiringly and lips curved in a deliberately sultry pout.

“No….” he shook his head regretfully. “Well then,” he offered, his tone and expression turning openly mocking “I guess maybe humans are more your speed these days.”


As her own expression darkened at his words, Spike tensed in expectation. Willing himself to relax he waited to see what her next move would be.



Buffy and the others had barely registered Xander’s first cry of distress before Spike was halfway up the stairs. By the time Buffy had realized what was happening and had made her own move Spike was already standing in front of the ex demon king.


When she slid to a halt barely a meter from the frightening tableau taking place on the landing, it was only the quick cutting motion of Spike’s hand that stopped her from attacking the creature that literally held the life of one of her best friends in her powerful hands.


Motioning to the others to stay back, Buffy froze and watched anxiously as the man she loved alternatively cajoled and taunted the former God king in an effort to save the life of someone with whom he’d shared only mutual loathing for the seven years they had known each other.


When the ex God finally made her move, it was with a speed that Buffy even with her slayer abilities missed.


Spike was starting to worry that Illyria might actually have killed the whelp by the time she made up her mind, when with her usual unpredictable behaviour she burst into action.

As prepared as he thought he was there was no way he was ready for what she did next.



Illyria’s grief and fear had faded as she faced the taunting features of the blonde vampire. The confusion and grief and her slow submergence into the state she barely recognized as loneliness was swept away under the challenge in his eyes and stance.

It dawned on her then, as she held the life of one and the gaze of the other that this was what she needed to keep her world from disintegrating completely. In the seconds it took her to reach her decision and decide on a plan of action she recognized the alien feeling of gratitude she felt towards her former pet, but unfortunately for Spike and Xander it only underlined the logic behind her next move.


With a sweep of her arm that Wesley would have instantly recognized, she used her much reduced but still substantial powers to slow time. Then in what seemed like barely a blink of the eye to the horror struck humans and slayers she, still holding tightly to Xander’s throat, reached for Spike and opened a portal.



Buffy gasped in horror as the figure of Illyira seemed to blur before her eyes. Even as Buffy started towards them, she knew she was going to be too late. The feeling of being trapped in molasses telling her that whatever the God King was doing it was beyond her ability to counter.


As a dimensional portal formed before her eyes her arm rose in what to her seemed like slow motion. The cry that came from her barely parted lips seeming to drag out in sympathy with the agony she was in at feeling so helpless. She watched, powerless to save the man she loved and boy who had stood by her side for as long as she could remember as Illyria pulled them both into the portal behind her.



Angel stood as stunned as the rest of them as Buffy collapsed, her howl of grief seeming to echo in his ears as with the closing of the portal normal time reasserted itself.



Willow and Tara were the first to reach the distraught slayer’s side followed moments later by Dawn.

Placing a gentle hand on her friends shoulder Willow briefly met the other witches worried gaze before speaking.


“B-Buffy its ok we’ll find them. Wherever she’s taken them we’ll get them back.” the red head promised. “Besides, it’s Spike”, she offered with wry smile. “You gotta know there is no way he’s gonna stay away from you any longer than he has to. Not now…not when you’ve only just gotten back together.”

“Willow’s right Buffy” interjected Tara her expression concerned but calm. “Spike loves you, he’s probably working on getting back even as we speak” she offered encouragingly.


Buffy just continued to stare at the place where the portal had been, the look on her face causing the witches to glance uncertainly at each other.


“Buffy, you wanna get up and come help with the research?” asked Willow gently, her concern mounting as Buffy showed no sign of having heard her.


“Oh for Pete’s sake!” muttered Dawn as she took in the worried expression on both the witches faces.

“C’mon sis…get you butt up off the floor. Spike would be so kicking your ass if he could see you.” huffed Dawn, as she reached down and tugged at her sister’s arm.

“Don’t you go all wimpy on me now. Spike and Xander need all of us, and that means you can feel sorry for yourself later. Jeez is nothing ever simple with you two…I mean really…getting kidnapped by a God King…how lame is that?” she offered acerbically.



Willow’s eyebrows rose at Dawn’s behavior but Tara found herself hiding a smile at the girl’s bratty comments.


When Buffy started to giggle softly, both Willow and Tara’s brows shot heavenward, before turning into identical frowns at the flushed and pissed off look Dawn was now directing at her sister.


Willow, glancing back at Buffy, was startled to see the slayer grinning openly at a thoroughly annoyed Dawn.


“Ok, so I really didn’t think that one out” muttered Dawn as she reached forward to give her sister a hand up of the floor.


“Ya think?” snorted Buffy, lightly cuffing the back of her sister’s head even as she got to her feet.


“Right then, sorry guys about the spacey, I really wasn’t ignoring you, I was actually kinda lost in the intense desire to kill something” offered Buffy apologetically, her expression tightening with her words.


She sighed


“Don’t worry I’m not gonna go all catatonic girl on ya, I’m pretty much used to shit like this happening…at least I should be” she added to herself.
“So yeah, looks like its research time for the scooby gang… again. Yay us” she said with a weak grin.

“Will’s, do me a favour and get everybody together downstairs. I’m gonna go talk to Angel and see if he has any idea where Illyria might have taken them, and then I think I’m gonna go find that something to kill.”


Scowling at her own thoughts Buffy made her way towards the stairs and the vampire that was standing at the base of them.



************