Author’s Note: I warped time some.
--
End of Summer 2005
Spike’s duster hung loose on Buffy’s shoulders. Two months ago he’d left that as a promise that he’d return. He’d kissed her goodbye and left to get his soul.
He didn’t need his soul to be good. Why couldn’t Willow simply curse him as she had Buffy? What if he got hurt in Africa and she was too far away to help? Buffy had argued until her sobs prevented her from speaking. He’d let her cry wet, noisy tears against his neck and he held her close, but told her he had to go. He had to earn his soul; he had to earn her.
An unearthly hiss pulled Buffy out of her thoughts and at present she found Dawn looking up at an eight foot tall demon, clutching her sword tightly.
“H-how do these things die?”
“Giles gave me a thingy of mercury to throw at it,” Buffy said. The demon swiped and Dawn ducked.
Buffy hurled the glass vial at the centre of the demon’s back and it shattered against his scales. He howled in agony as the mercury formed little balls and ran down his skin, seemingly burning away anything it came into contact with.
The Summers sisters watched as the demon glared at the pair and then sank dead to the ground.
“Well. That was dramatic,” Dawn said, lowering her sword. “Now what?”
“Now we scavenge.”
Dawn raised her eyebrows as Buffy pulled the elaborate dagger out of the dead demon’s hand.
“You were so channelling Spike right there.”
Buffy smiled as she inspected her new toy.
“Think he’ll be back soon?” Dawn said with the same smile.
“Oh, he better be.”
“Someone’s undersexed.”
“Dawn!”
“Like you weren’t thinking the exact same thing.”
Dawn skipped ahead of Buffy as they reached the rusted entrance gates to the cemetery.
Wait. Buffy stopped mid-stride and let her eyes unfocus as she reached out with her other senses. A warm feeling uncurled in her stomach as his presence became closer on her radar. He was home.
--
Autumn 2005
Spike had known he loved Buffy and now his soul let him understand the hows and whys to loving her, and it let him love her with all he could be.
Living on the edge of Hell with an electronic gadget in place of a soul wouldn’t do forever. And they had forever.
Buffy was lounging on her living room couch, doing her best to keep her freshly-painted crimson fingernails from coming into contact with anything. Spike was carefully finishing his right hand, the nail polished brush dripping black from its hold in his left hand.
“Drip!”
Before Spike could roll his eyes at Buffy for her concern over the state of the coffee table, a very angry robot stormed into the room.
“I want to be treated with respect and equality. I dislike having to hang around the house all day because when I’m done cleaning and cooking there is not much for me to do besides watch television. I enjoy channels two, four, and seven for soap operas during the day and channel seventy-one for the Fishing and Hunting channel. I’ve gotten off topic. I want to participate in the outside world therefore I’m going to gain legalized employment. So there!”
Nodding with finality, April then turned on her heel and left the house. Spike’s black nail-polish brush dripped again. The two vampires stared in the direction of the front door.
“Did she say the Fishing and Hunting channel?” Buffy asked, bemused.
--
Winter 2005
Leaving her mate to rest and heal after an incident involved with their defeating of a possessed carnival, Buffy decided it was the perfect opportunity for a girls-night.
She and Willow gathered nail polish and cookie dough and movies and settled down in sleeping bags in front of the TV in the Summers’ living room after bidding Dawn goodnight.
Willow and Buffy envy each other sometimes. Buffy looks at her best friend and knows that Willow’s young face will wrinkle and age someday. Buffy knows her friend’s body will reflect a lifetime of joys and sorrows while hers will remain as unchanged as a statue, not acknowledging the occasional crack.
Willow and Buffy envy each other sometimes. Willow knows it’s shallow of her to wish for an immortal face but it’s difficult to resist. Once in a while, after perfecting her enviable red hair and minimal amount of make-up, she’ll look at herself in the mirror and smile. She likes looking pretty, as any girl does, and wonders if her inner beauty could ever be enough.
There have been many girl-nights spent together figuring out which combinations of snack foods will stay in one’s stomach, and that bright lipsticks wouldn’t work on Buffy because they made her look paler than necessary.
Willow and Buffy envy each other sometimes.
--
Spring 2005
Dawn’s graduation was no less memorable than her sister’s, though it was far less eventful. Dawn finished high school with a flourish a week before the evil demon vibes drove out all the townspeople.
Energy was rippling from the dark and light sides. Anyone who wasn’t fighting in this war--demon and human alike--had listened to gut instinct and fled. Instinct was right. During the battle the good side took the fight straight into the Hellmouth and won in the end, but not without losses. Buffy’s leg had taken a smashing. April would need a new right arm constructed. Xander had lost an eye. Anya would have those scars across her front for life. Giles had lost his glasses at some point. But they were alive
Under a clouded net of stars, Buffy looked over the crater that was Sunnydale from her lover’s strong arms with a smile of satisfaction. They could leave. They could finally leave.
Hours later, right before the sunrise, the bedraggled mini-forces of good stumbled into the Wolfram and Hart lobby.
Angel appeared and with the efficiency of his new CEO position, set a medical crew into action. The others were whisked towards the company’s hospital wing. Spike followed, Buffy’s legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her piggyback.
“What the happened to you?” Angel asked, directing his question at Buffy.
“Got my leg broken,” Buffy said with a small laugh. “I get through the entire battle and on the way out I trip over a boulder.”
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