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Author's Chapter Notes:
lots of wonderful reviews..many thanks.
this chapter is dedicated to the lovely menfolk who keep me smiling... Kings of Mercia this one's for you
Giles was woken up from a good sleep far too early, by the incessant noise from the phone. When he finally answered it he was met by the hysterical voice of Rona, his slayer based in New York. Her powers were gone. Completely: not only her but all the Slayers had lost their powers, they were back to being normal girls, weak and useless. She had nearly been killed by a newly risen fledge, and there had been three slayers on patrol that night. It took Giles about an hour to calm the hysterical girl down, and he promised to call her the following day.

Giles dressed quickly and made his way to the office, firing up his computer as he made his morning tea. There were over 1000 emails from Slayers all over the world, all saying the same thing. They had lost their powers.

He looked at the clock. It wasn’t midnight yet in Cleveland; perhaps Faith and Robin would forgive a late night call, seeing it was an emergency.

Faith and Robin were just heading for bed as the phone went. They had left the patrols on the Hell Mouth that was Cleveland to some of the other slayers, seeing that Faith was five months pregnant. They hadn’t heard back from any of them, but that was normal; Faith needed more sleep now because of the baby and so the slayers routinely gave report in the morning.

The news in the call was shocking. Faith knew her strength was still fine: she’d broken the banister on the way to bed when the baby had kicked, but she didn’t know about the others. Robin grabbed keys to the van and headed out. He had to find the girls before they got into trouble.

He found them in a cemetery waiting for a vampire to wake up from his grave.
Robin staked it quickly and ordered all the girls back to the van. Not one of them had the strength or speed they were used to. They were back to being normal girls. They were weak.
.
Giles was worried. They were down to two Slayers: Faith and Buffy. It was then that Giles then wondered where Buffy was; he hadn’t seen her around for a couple of days.

Probably moping around somewhere thinking about that damn Vampire. He didn’t mean to be cruel but it never occurred to the middle-aged watcher that Buffy had really loved Spike, that he had been The One. He’d send Willow to look for her; once he’d solved the problem of the Slayers they could have a chat, and maybe get that spell for Buffy, some magical anti-depressant. Giles phoned Willow on her cell, asking her to come in to the office early as there seemed to be a slight problem, and settled down to trying to track down the problems and causes of powerless Slayers.

Giles was no nearer to solving the mystery of powerless slayers and was on his third cup of tea by the time Willow and Xander both turned up. He and Dawn had been searching the library and database for anything that could have caused the weakness. The only thing that could come close was the stuff that had been used on Buffy during the Crucitanium, but that shouldn’t affect all the slayers at the same moment.


Xander had collected the post and Willow was making her way to Giles’ office when they were disturbed by a scream from upstairs. Dawn had tried to go into Buffy’s room to tell her she was needed downstairs when she found that the door was blocked by a force field. All she could see was Buffy on the bed, obviously dead, surrounded by a half empty bottle of whisky, a packet of cigarettes and a leather pillow. Xander and Willow dropped the post and ran towards the sound of the hysterical Dawn. Giles could put on an impressive turn of speed for someone his age. They were faced with something out of their very nightmares. Buffy on the bed, dead.

Xander tried to get to her but was thrown back by the barrier; Dawn was on her knees still screaming. She couldn’t believe, didn’t want to believe what she saw: she wouldn’t. Buffy dead, her sightless eyes fixed on a whisky bottle, her hand holding onto a piece of black leather and the stub of a cigarette in the ashtray, the smoke coiling up from the glowing end, filling the room with its smell.

Willow started muttering in Latin, trying to bring down the barrier but nothing worked, it was beyond even her abilities. Willow couldn’t believe it, she was the most powerful witch alive: a simple barrier should be no problem but she couldn’t touch it at all. Dawn was crying now: her sister was dead. Giles couldn’t believe that Buffy was gone, his beloved daughter of his heart, and Willow felt empty.

It was a sombre group that made their way downstairs and into Giles’ office. They didn’t know what to do. They should call the police but how did they explain the barrier? Giles had to hit the books and Willow knew that she had to take it down, maybe through the walls or the ceiling.

Xander picked up the letters from where he’d dropped them and saw a letter in Buffy’s writing addressed to Giles. He hurried to catch them up and handed over the envelope in silence. Giles had started to open it when it was snatched from his hand by a woman they’d never seen before. She was laughing ecstatically.

‘We have been trying for 50,000 years to bring down the Slayer line and you manage it in a year! We have to hand it to you: the forces of good manage to kill off the slayer line completely, and with something as simple as good intentions. Well they are supposed to pave the road to hell. Many, many, heartfelt thanks from all at Wolf Ram and Hart!’

She vanished in a flash of sickly red light and the stink of sulphur, leaving a stunned group of Scoobies behind her, the letter floating to the floor as she vanished. None of them could believe it. Buffy’s death, the weakening of the new Slayers, and now a message from the Powers of Evil.

Giles took the letter from where it had fallen on the floor and opened it, reading it out loud for all to hear.


‘Dear Giles and Willow,

I know you think you have acted for the best over the last year, but what gave you the right to choose what is best for me? I have been a slayer for nearly ten years, giving up everything including my life. When finally get to heaven Willow, you drag me out again. You can’t let me rest in peace. Now you ignore me, and search my room, taking what little I have away from me, giving me no freedom or privacy, I have become your slave, your subject, not even permitted to feel free will.

You would not even give me the dignity of allowing me to mourn the loss of my lover, you made it clear how grateful you were that he was out of my life.

Well I’m leaving again. This time you won’t be able to bring me back. My room is sealed. I can leave here but nothing and no one can get in to me without an invite. And you and your magic will never get that invitation.

The only person welcome in my room is Spike, and I know he doesn’t want me. So this is good bye. By the time you get it I will be dead and there is no way you can bring me back.

This is for the best

Buffy’



When he finished they looked at each other. They’d only meant it for the best… none of them had given a thought about Buffy and her needs.

Their grief was interrupted by another message from Faith. She was desperate, she couldn’t patrol because of the baby and Cleveland was being overrun by demons: they couldn’t be held back. Faith was losing battles and she needed Buffy fast. She had tried to reach her on her cell: was there a problem? Giles didn’t know what to say. He had to tell the other slayer she was the only one left. Faith was dumbstruck.

‘Think of something Giles! I’m not risking my child by patrolling, I would be killed in a minute. I know you forced Buffy into going out when she was pregnant but you’re not doing it to me: I’ll up and run before you kill my child as well. You will never find me.’

Giles looked at Willow in horror. Faith was right: he’d killed Buffy’s child, he hadn’t meant to but the girl who should have been patrolling wanted a night off to go out with her boyfriend and he’d forced a pregnant woman into the position of fighting for her life… what had he been thinking?

The same story came in from all over the world. White Magic was failing, demons were winning and humans were dying. The world was turning to the darkness.


Spike and Angel looked at the oncoming dragon and knew this was the end. Illyria was fighting everything that moved, but her shell was beginning to suffer. Gunn was dead: so was Wesley. They were alone against the hounds of hell. Illyria jumped into the portal that had opened up before her and vanished. Angel and Spike looked towards each other. They knew their time had come: the Scourge of Europe ending up dead in a filthy alley in America seemed appropriate in some way. The small nod they gave each other was their last sign and Spike could feel the sire link strengthening. With their game faces on the two souled vampires faced the hoard ready to fight to the end.

Spike felt the moment when Angel dusted. He caught the glimpse of a sword flash through the air and knew that his grandsire was gone. He just kept fighting. The borrowed blood in his system was leaking everywhere. The cut above his eye was half blinding him, but he knew that he had to keep fighting, keep killing the bad guys. He felt someone grab him and he was pulled onto his back. He waited for that final blow, but it didn’t come. The last thing he remembered was a human-looking demon staring at him and everything faded to black.

Merrick looked at the vampire on the floor of the dingy apartment. He was bleeding from a nice head wound and would need more blood if he wanted to live. Luckily Merrick had picked up a few dozen bags of the good stuff from the hospital. Well, they were throwing it out anyway.

And he and Joyce waited for Spike to come round.





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