Buffy practically ran to Spikes apartment. He was doing so much better but she still hated leaving him. It was especially hard since they’d spent so little time together the last few days, what with all the werewolf drama and Scooby meetings. But he needed clothes. It weirded her a bit to see him in her dad’s old things, and she knew it must be hard on her mom, even though so much time had passed. This trip to pick up fresh things was necessary, but she planned on making it as quick as possible.
Despite how long their relationship had been building, how, since the first moment they’d met they’d been so drawn together, they’d come together quite suddenly in the end. Their relationship was so new, still in its first steps. They’d fallen down on their journey recently and they hadn’t had time yet to celebrate getting back up. Buffy knew, head heart and soul, blood and bones, that Spike was what she wanted. If she was being honest with herself he was what she’d always wanted. She suspected, somehow, that deep inside she’d known Spike was coming all her life, that they would meet one day. With Angel, though for all appearances she’d thrown herself into the relationship, she had never given herself to him fully.
There had always been a part of herself she’d held back. She’d been too deeply in angst with him at the time to let it trouble her, but now she knew why. Angel hadn’t been the one for her. Spike had always been the one.
Buffy was so preoccupied with warm fuzzies she didn’t immediately realise anything was amiss as she let herself in to Spike’s apartment.
She almost growled in frustration as she noticed the man/thing politely sat on Spike’s couch, sipping tea from a chintzy, flowery tea set she was fairly certain Spike didn’t own.
“What do you want?”
Tarot, other than raising an eyebrow, didn’t seem at all perturbed by her obvious displeasure at seeing him. He smiled, in a way he probably considered warm, but in a way she found decidedly creepy.
“Well I’m here to see you of course Miss Summers, and I must say it is a delight to see you again. I would have stopped by your home, but I felt it best not to disturb the courageous invalid in his early stages of recuperation.”
Buffy crossed her arms and tried very hard not to roll her eyes. “How’d you know I was coming here?”
Tarot smiled again and took a noisy sip of tea. “How does anyone know anything Miss Summers?”
Realising that avoiding an irritatingly cryptic conversation with Tarot wasn’t really an option Buffy flopped into Spikes favourite chair. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Just checking in with my favourite demon fighting gal Miss Summers. I’ve been meaning to come ever since your altercation with Angelus, but with one thing and another... Now that was a night of surprises wasn’t it?”
Tarot didn’t seem to expect an answer so Buffy stayed quiet.
“No that night didn’t turn out how we expected at all.”
Buffy raised an eyebrow. “What, did the powers expect me to bite the big time? Sorry to disappoint.”
Tarot chuckled. The sound was similar to a wheezy cat crying. It was most unsettling. “No no dear, we never expected you to die. At least, we hoped you wouldn’t, but you can’t guarantee these things can you?” Tarot shook his head and smiled. “No, what surprised us that night was young Williams ah, intervention, shall we say. It was supposed to be Angel sent to hell that night, not William. And it was supposed to be done by your hand. If things had happened as they were supposed to then things would have taken a different course, the course the Powers had intended it to take. But – well with William around we knew to expect the unexpected! But that was unexpected indeed. For him to save Angel, after the history those two have shared! My, that was a shocker! He’s done some courageous things (some might call them stupid, not I of course) over the years, but choosing to face an uncertain hell dimension rather than letting your enemy get his just deserts... I wonder what made him do that?”
“Me.”
Tarot leaned forward in his chair, and directed his ear towards Buffy, as though he hadn’t heard her. “I beg your pardon Miss Summers?”
Buffy cleared her suddenly dry throat. “I said he did it for me, so I wouldn’t have to kill Angel. He didn’t want me have to deal with that sort of pain.”
Tarot leaned back again, and clasped his hands over his sizable stomach. “Hmm yes. That sounds like the William we know. Sacrificing for love. He always was a hopeless romantic! Not surprising really, when you consider his upbringing. Always yearning for the love he’s been denied... I have to say though, you and he, coming together in the way you have, that shook the Powers greatly. Can’t say when they’ve been more surprised!”
Buffy’s eyebrow rose. “Yeah, I’m sure. Of course they wouldn’t have set up our relationship, it’s not like they’ve done that before or anything... you know, say with Angel? Prophesy, ring any bells?”
This time Tarot looked genuinely surprised. “Miss Summers I can assure you the Powers have nothing to do with the relationship you and William have. It was the furthest thing from their intentions. Angel was meant to be your champion. William had been out of the slayer saving game for so long it wasn’t even suspected you’d meet.”
Buffy shook her head, “Well that’s not right. Spike was fed visions about me, he saw the master kill me, saw me come back. He’d managed to block out all other slayer visions, so it must have been the Powers that made him see me.”
Tarot’s eyes widened. “It certainly wasn’t the Powers Miss Summers, I would know. I can’t tell you why William had visions about you, but it wasn’t because we intended it that way, dear me no! That’s why we had to put an embargo on what he was able to communicate with you. We had a very cultivated plan in the works, we couldn’t risk his sudden appearance messing things up. We were grateful of course that he saved you from Miss Drusilla that night at the school, but when he began to interfere further... well we were quite annoyed! If I was one for making guesses I’d say that the two of you share a connection, one the Powers couldn’t predict or manipulate. It meant things with Angel didn’t go to plan, and that meant the rest went plum over peach! It was supposed to be you and Angel, big everlasting love and all that drama, but apparently your heart had other plans.” When Buffy opened her mouth to speak Tarot cut her off. “Oh Miss Summers I don’t mean to criticise your choice! Not by any means. William always was my favourite.”
Though it eased Buffy’s mind to know she and Spike weren’t drawn together because some interfering higher power had made it so, she was finding this whole conversation confusing and the fact it was keeping her from Spike made it annoying in the extreme. “Yeah, well you know what they say, blondes have more fun.”
To Buffy surprise Tarot laughed at this, big belly laughs which sounded like a really fat wheezing cat crying. “Yes, Angel wasn’t really about the laughter was he? No, I think you and William are much better suited. My! What a team you’ll make! I can’t wait to see what kind of mischief the two of you get up to.”
“That’s great, glad to know we bring entertainment into your life. No disrespect or anything, but I want to make with the gone and I don’t think Spike would appreciate you being here.”
Tarot waved a hand airily, “Your probably right, he certainly wasn’t pleased the last time he found me in his home, gosh that was an entertaining afternoon! Well, I won’t keep you, just thought I’d check in, let you know that the Powers are pleased with your work, despite how off kilter it made their plans. I was also hoping you’d do me the honour of participating in another reading?”
Buffy shrugged, “What the hell, didn’t seem to mean much the last time, but hey who am I to judge?”
Tarot looked her square in the eye as he handed her a pack of cards which had appeared as though from nowhere. “You pulled the Justice card last time I believe. Justice is all about restoring balance, and making decisions through natural force as much as rational thought. It is clear to me now that when William entered your world he gave it balance, acting as a partner, an equal (even though you didn’t seem to realise it at the time) You chose to enter hell, to return William to this plane, restore balance to your world, and you did it against the laws of rational reasoning, it was purely a reaction of natural, emotional force. I’d say your last reading had meaning, wouldn’t you?”
Buffy wasn’t sure how to respond, so she didn’t, just averted her eyes from Tarot’s penetrating gaze and shuffled the cards.
Despite how eager she was to get away from Tarot and back to Spike Buffy found she couldnt rush the reading, she felt compelled to take her time shuffling and laying the cards until she felt they looked just right. Again she felt a peculiar pull as her hand hovered over a particular card. She lifted it with trepidation, but this time turned it, stared at it, before handing it to Tarot.
When Tarot saw it he smiled, though it meant little to Buffy.
Number nine, Strength.
“Well well, very nice. Yes yes, theres fun to be had! Now I don’t wish to hold up you up any longer dear girl. I expect I’ll be seeing you again soon.”
“Can’t wait.” Tarot clearly failed to pick up on the sarcasm.
“Neither can I! Neither can I! Give Spike my regards, I imagine he has seen our meeting. It’s hard to keep anything from that boy, no matter how hard one tries!”
Tarot disappeared moments after, and Buffy quickly collected Spikes clothes.
Tarot was right, Spike had seen their meeting. Though he was interested in their conversation, and delighted that him falling for Buffy had nothing to do with being a puppet for the powers, they didn’t dwell on it long. They had more important things to deal with at the moment.
All in all that day passed quickly. Buffy and Anna prepared for the evening and Spike ignored his headaches.
When evening began to fall Giles and Xander went to Giles’ apartment, which they we’re going to use as a HQ.
Before Buffy and Anna left Buffy said a lingering goodbye to Spike.
All the time he’d spent sleeping in the last couple of days hadn’t been completely wasted, his leg had healed dramatically. Spike had tried to insist it was healed enough that he could come. But Buffy watched him closely, she saw how he still wobbled when he tried to walk, and she saw the strain standing took. With a firm reminder that she was the slayer, and as such should be listened to by vamps who wished to remain undusty, Buffy made Spike stay behind.
Spike was angry, and disappointed in himself for not hiding the pain better, but he agreed, knowing that Anna would be less likely to fall down in a pathetic heap, and that she help and protect Buffy with almost the same ferocity as he would.
The kiss they shared before they went was so steamy Anna had to back out of the room with wide eyes.
Spikes voice was husky, his irises dominated by the black of desire. “Come back to me pet, or else.”
Buffy found it difficult to make her tingling tongue wrap itself around words. She stroked his face and tried to stop herself from forgetting all about her mission, barricading them in the house and instigating a clothes ban.“You think I’m not gonna come back to find out where that kiss could lead? That would be a massive world of no. I’ll be back later, and I expect you to be up waiting.”
Spike couldn’t resist smirking, pulling her on to his lap and grinding his lower half into her. “Oh, I’ll definitely still be up luv.”
Buffy left the house with a tingling core and a steely determination to find the thing, kill it, and get back to her evil tease of a boyfriend as soon as was slayerly possible.
The night was turning into a big bust. Buffy and Anna had been patrolling for almost three hours and other than two measly fledgling vamps everything had been quiet.
Buffy had the sudden thought that maybe the werewolf had heard that there was a slayer in Sunnydale and had chosen to move on to some other slayer-less town. She felt stupid for not thinking that it might have happened earlier.
Spike had had a vision, but he had said before that his visions didn’t always come to pass, they only showed things that might be. Though she felt guilty for thinking of some other town in distress Buffy couldn’t help the accompanying pang of relief. She pulled the gun she was carrying from her pocket and looked at it with distaste. Her shot had greatly improved but she still longed for her stake, for the strange reassuring comfort of a physical fight. She shoved the cold metal away again with a shudder.
Buffy whipped out the phone she’d liberated from Spike and dialled Giles number.
“Hey Giles, no no, don’t get your panties in a twist, just another update on the nothing that’s happening. I think our mr hairy skipped town. What? Well if he keeps waving it around take the gun off him. Huh? No, I don’t know what a rollywhatsit artefact is, but I’m sure Xander didn’t mean to break it. He did what to your jaffa cakes? Right... Look, Giles me and Anna are gonna do one more sweep then we’re coming back, try not to kill each other until then ok? See you later.”
Anna had given up listening to the bemusing one sided conversation and was looking around her with an alertness Buffy had lost an hour ago.
Buffy watched the way Anna’s eyes flicked restlessly around. “Something up?” Buffy couldn’t feel even the beginnings of a tingly, and was relieved when Anna shook her head. “Good, thought my radar was going wonky.” Buffy sighed, “I reckon we should split up and do one last sweep, meeting back here. What do you think?”
Anna frowned, “Well, Spike and Rupert did say we shouldn’t split up dear, maybe it would be better if we stuck together.”
Buffy waved a hand around airily, “If something was going to happen it would have happened by now. Giles said werewolves transform as soon as the full moon comes up, and it’s been up for hours. I think our werewolf’s gone splitsville, but we should do one last quick sweep to be sure.”
Anna still hesitated, but Buffy was determined. “Well... it is unusual for a werewolf to wait this long to begin hunting, especially given the later summer nights. And I suppose it would be quicker if we split up.”
Buffy nodded, “I’m so ready to drop right now. If I do see the werewolf, and it doesn’t see me, I’ll give you a call, and you can do the same. Alright?”
After Anna inclined her head Buffy turned on her heel and marched off. She’d barely spent any time with Spike the last few days, and she was dying to get back to him. His leg was so very nearly better too, which meant soon they’d be able to go to his place... and have privacy...
Buffy was so lost in pleasant imaginings that she passed streets and shops without noticing. She inadvertently made her way towards the more derelict parts of town, the types of places which had been first on her and Anna’s patrolling list.
Everything seemed much as it was three hours earlier.
There wasn’t another soul to be seen. The air was still, no breeze disturbed the trash littered streets and the full moon shone down from a cloudless sky, bathing everything in an eerie white.
Buffy found it to be both peaceful and disquieting.
A sudden, horribly familiar scream ripped apart the night and Buffy’s heart in an instant.
A cloying, cold and paralysing fear snaked its way through her limbs. Her head was ordering her to run in the direction of the sound, her body was refusing to obey.
It took another scream, less forceful but no less terrified, for the adrenaline to start pumping through Buffy’s system. She put one foot in front of the other.
Again. Faster. Faster. She tried to push every thought from her mind as she ran, as she ran faster than should have been possible even for a slayer.
A painful throbbing pressure in her head hit her incessantly, and blended with words to form a chant which set the pace of her feet. Not happening. Not happening. Not happening.
The screams continued, but they were getting quieter and quieter. For once Buffy was dreading the moment the screaming stopped. Screaming was good. Screaming was noise. Screaming meant not dead.
The screaming stopped.
Buffy rounded a corner, not noticing a black crystal that got crushed beneath her feet.
Up ahead was an abandoned warehouse, and in front of it was a playground, with its rusted swing sets and forgotten slides. Buffy was only seconds away, but those seconds stretched beyond meaning. With her enhanced slayer sight she could see that there was a dark shadow, covering where she knew the roundabout should be. With her enhanced hearing she could hear a whimper. It was a whimper of defeat and the sound of it almost brought Buffy to her knees. She forced herself to carry her body forward the final few feet. She was close. So close.
The shadow moved with frightening speed, but it was moving away, away from Buffy and the playground. Buffy let it go. It was not her concern.
Her concern was brought abruptly, horribly, into sight.
When she had seen the wounds werewolves had inflicted on Spike she had nearly been sick. Now she was seeing similar wounds on a different person and she actually was. The acid burned her throat as the tears stung her eyes. She whipped her mouth with the back of a violently shaking hand and staggered forwards on legs she had lost control of. How they were holding her up when she felt like collapsing Buffy had no idea. She dropped the gun she had drawn while running to the ground without thought.
The light of the hateful full moon was suddenly too bright. She could see it all, see the oozing blood running across the tarmac, ebbing and flowing in a crimson tide. Blood. So much blood.
Everything was red.
Buffy didn’t recognise her own voice; it was a voice she hadn’t used since she was a very small child, a child who hadn’t known how to cope with fear or pain. She thought she’d learnt about doing that over the years, and in the last few months especially she thought she’d learned how to deal with the most awful of situations. She was so, so wrong.
Suddenly she was a child again, and so very afraid.
“Willow?”
Willow did not stir. Her eyes were closed, and her chest, so horribly torn, was not moving. Buffy fell then. She fell on her hands and knees and crawled towards her friend. “Willow? No, no no no no. Not you. Not you Willow.” It couldn’t be Willow. It couldn’t be. She shouldn’t be here, why was she here? She was supposed to be ill, safe at home in bed. Ill, but ok inside her house. Inside her house and not here. Safe. She was meant to be safe. Why was she here? Why?
Not Willow.
It couldn’t be Willow.
“Willow?”
Buffy ran her shaking hands around Willows broken body, she was afraid to touch her, she didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t bite back the choking sobs which wracked her body. Somewhere in the back of her head a voice was trying to be heard, telling her things she knew. Her pulse. Check her pulse.
Buffy gently took her hand. It felt so small. So fragile. She turned it and pressed her fingers against the wrist. Her pulse. Still there. But weak. So weak. Too weak.
Acting on autopilot Buffy frantically fumbled through the pockets of her jacket until she found the cell phone. She punched in 911 while her voice made desperate demands to her dying friend. “Wills, stay with me ok? You have to stay with me. You’re – you’re going to be ok. D’you hear me Willow?” Willow didn’t stir.
There was suddenly a voice on the other end of the phone.
Buffy tried to make her own voice steady, so the operator understood where they were.
She never heard the soft tread of claws behind her. As she hung up the phone she didn’t feel the tingles which should have told her what was coming from behind. She didn’t see the werewolf, the werewolf with her best friend’s blood congealing in the coarse hairs around its mouth. She didn’t see the werewolf who was preparing to pounce again.
Buffy suddenly felt the air behind her move, and the next few seconds passed in horrific slow motion.
She turned and it felt like she was moving through wet sand. She was too sluggish, too slow. And now she was looking into the mouth of the beast. Buffy didn’t roll out of the way, or adopt a defensive position. Her mind had gone blank and her usual instinctive reactions had vanished. She did nothing.
She was vaguely aware of her name being shouted, in a voice which, for reasons she couldn’t at that moment remember, made her heart flip over.
The beast, so close to being upon her, to pinning her down and ripping her to shreds, turned towards the source of the shout mid jump.
The sound of a single shot cracked through the air, and time stopped moving in slow motion.
The werewolf landed on Buffy, but the force behind it was pure momentum. It collapsed on her, its head lolling horribly to one side. Its eyes were wide, glassy and staring, and a bullet wound blossomed blood between them.
Then they eyes began to change. The feral darkness began to soften just as the muzzle below them started to shrink back.
Buffy shoved the creature off her, and crawled backwards desperately.
Spike was at her side that instant. Buffy didn’t question how he had found her, how he had got to her in just the very last moment.
He was her saviour after all. He would always save her. She was stupid for ever doubting that.
Spike was trying to pull her away now though, away from the dead wolf, the wolf who was the reason why her best friend lay dying.
She wouldn’t let him.
As the sound of sirens filled the air Spike tried to pull Buffy away, tried to stop her from watching as the features of the wolf receded, melted and restructured until the human form was revealed.
When the transformation was complete Buffy saw why Spike had tried to protect her, and for the second time that night she was violently sick.
With a manic disbelief Buffy looked back and forth between the body of a friend who lay dying, and the body of the friend who was unmistakably dead.
Oz.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I've added a new big chunk to the beginning of this, for some reason it didnt copy originally!