Spike’s eyes grew painfully wide as he looked in horror at the massive monster before him. The beast growled and shrieked, arching its back to reveal its full, enormous size. The hordes of demons the group was still battling paled in comparison to this creature.

A bloody dragon…a bloody…sodding…dragon!

Illyria and Angel stood close together, their swords tearing through the flesh of the demons before them. Spike could still see them out of the corner of his eye, though his gaze was decidedly fixed on the dragon, and he continued to cut through the various creatures attacking him. He couldn’t see Gunn anymore, though he could hear his hoarse voice shouting instructions. Spike remembered, vaguely, the sight of the demon masses attacking him, Buffy, and their troop in his final battle at the Hellmouth. That battle now seemed like child’s play.

How in God’s name are we going to do this?

Spike briefly glanced down at the ground beneath him, suddenly struck by the magnitude of the demons killed, and the amount still remaining to fight. Angel’s shoulders began to quiver.

“How are we…how can we…?”

“There’s four of us, mate, and only…thirty thousand of them…well,” Spike said, staring at the dragon yet again, “Thirty thousand and one.”

Illyria was enraged by Spike’s attempt at humor, and glared toward the blood-spattered vampire.

“Silence! Insolent creature…we need to decide what to do! This…this beast is only eyeing us up now…toying with us. The demons are mere diversions from it.”

She drove a long sword through the stomachs of three demons, creating a striking, shish-ka-bob effect.

“Well, pet, what genius plan do you have, because I never took Dragon Slaying 101.”

The dragon greedily stared at the group before emitting another horrifically high-pitched shriek. A blast from the beast’s mouth released a spew of fire that encompassed Gunn. He screamed in agony for mere seconds before his charred corpse dropped to the earth and was snatched in the claws of the dragon. Spike could feel his stomach turn as the dragon tore off Gunn’s head and began to consume his remains. The demons had ceased fighting, in reverence to the beast, and to laugh at the reactions of the three remaining fighters.

“It’s useless vampire,” shouted a brown, pig-like demon to Spike.

So encompassed in the first course of the dragon’s meal, neither the demons, nor the three fighters noticed a troupe of black-hooded figures emerge from a white mist. A powerful female voice echoed from underneath a hood, and the dragon ceased its meal, turning toward her. Three figures remained standing, as the thirty or so other hooded figures rushed into battle, swords and battle cries echoing with each strike. The hooded woman who had shouted to the dragon now let out a new series of incomprehensible words.

The white mist now covered the battlefield, and when it dissipated moments later, the bodies of most of the demons lay scattered and lifeless on the ground. The remaining demons feigned courage as they fought the hooded warriors and Angel, Illyria, and Spike, but when they realized their battle was already lost, retreated from whence they came. The group of hooded warriors followed close at their heels, leaving only Angel, Illyria, Spike, and the three hooded figures to battle the dragon. The brown-pig-demon remained, staring blankly at the dragon, in the hopes it would give him some answer. Spike drove his sword through the demon's chest.

"It's useless, eh, piggy?"

The second of the three figures seemed to be staring at Spike intently, and it seemed to whisper something of great importance to the third figure. He shook off the feeling as paranoia, and turned his attention back to the beast before them.

This should be interesting.

The cloaked woman stepped before the beast, and spoke in another strange dialect.

“Must be dragon-ese,” Spike said to Angel, though his wit fell on deaf ears.

The dragon cocked its head to one side as if it was intently listening to the female figure.

“Xthr vanta shar. Thia! Thia, vanta shar. THIA,” the woman bellowed.

A compassionate sparkle flashed in the dragon’s eyes briefly, but was quickly shaken away with an angry roar. It turned its hideous gaze upon Spike. The second hooded figure cried out in terror. Spike recognized her voice in an instant.

“No! Spike!”

A blast of coldness covered Spike before he could allow a word to escape his lips. Though he could see, he couldn’t move, and quickly realized why; he was surrounded in a thin covering of ice. The dragon’s hot blast was useless, merely beginning to melt his icy covering. As it fumed in anger, the cloaked woman who had spoken held an ominous hand with a sole finger extended at the dragon.

“Durantha Thia. Tkewk…so Thia!”

The second cloaked woman pulled a sword from beneath her cloak and as swiftly as a panther, drove the blade into a light, white patch glowing on the stunned dragon’s underbelly. Stumbling back and roaring again, the dragon swayed as it fell with a great ‘thud’ to the bloodied ground.

With a final, ragged breath, the beast shot a stream of fire toward the woman who had stabbed him. Anticipating the dragon’s reaction, Spike had summoned all of his remaining strength and broke through the melting ice. He tackled the woman, barely escaping the fire’s blast. Her hood fell back as they hit the ground; her blonde locks spilling across her shoulders, and glowing in the fire’s haze. Spike’s cool, blue eyes brimmed with tears as he slowly moved off of her body.

“Buffy?”

The cloaked woman who had spoken to the dragon tossed her red hair free of the hood’s constraints. Smiling at Spike, she nodded.

“She’ll be fine.”

Spike stared, in disbelief, at her.

“Willow? How…Red, how did you do all of this?”

“Well, Buffy and the rest of the potentials have been trying to find this beast for quite some time. We knew what he was going to be used for, but I needed to find him first. We wanted to save him, but, he became corrupted, as so many dragons do; poor Thia. Anyway, we knew they were going to fight Angel, so I honed in on his soul, and transported us here. But we had no idea you’d be here.”

“She…she didn’t…she doesn’t know I’m alive?”

“Well, now she knows. That was why she offered to kill Thia if we needed to…I think she hoped that if the worst happened to her, she might see you again. She’s been lost without you, Spike.”

Spike’s expression softened for a moment, and then stiffened. He stood up, facing Willow, angrily.

“Lost, yeah? The Immortal dump her or something?”

The third hooded figure stepped forward, chuckling.

“Oh, Spike, you’re so naïve,” he said, pulling his hood back. Spike shook his head.

“Andrew?”

“Yeah! I just think it’s so funny you can’t tell the difference between the real Buffy and another Buffybot! I must be getting better at this!”

“What?”

”Well, yeah. Buffy was…er…incapacitated for a while after you died, so we had to compensate. Didn’t want the demon world to think the most powerful Slayer was gone! We figured it was best to get the most dangerous ‘reconnaissance’ work out of the way, while Buffy wasn’t in danger. We just needed to know where the Immortal’s loyalties were.”

“I could’ve told you that, mate. He’s only loyal to himself.”

“Right. Well, we thought he had a hand in this uprising, so we sent our Buffybot after him. He found out one night when she was uploading the day’s information on her laptop. He was pretty pissed at first, but he is a little kinky…he’s actually been a great customer! Helped us all get out of debt, buy a house….”

“It wasn’t her?”

“No.”

“Is this…?”

Andrew nodded.

“Yep!”

Spike’s eyes filled with tears.

“She…missed me?”

Dropping back to his knees, Spike scooped a still-unconscious Buffy up into his arms. Standing with her cradled to his chest, he walked to Willow.

“So, how do we get out of here, Red?”

“Same way we came in.”

Willow’s voice trailed off into a soft hum. Murmuring a few unintelligible words, she waved her clothed arms in a broad, circular, motion. The white fog that had ushered Willow, Buffy, Andrew, and the potentials in earlier soon surrounded the group.

“What about the others,” Spike asked.

“They know how to get back to where they live,” Andrew replied.

“Come on guys,” Willow called, as she and Andrew faded into the whiteness.

Buffy stirred in Spike’s arms as he carried her after Willow. Angel shrugged at Illyria, still too confused to speak, and sighed before he followed Spike into the haze. Illyria scanned the wreckage of the battle with a cool indifference, as if taking inventory, before turning on her heels after the group. The white cloud had dissipated before a final figure could pass through. A withered arm, covered in flaky scales, reached toward the remaining puffs of smoke in the air. As it fell to the ground, its body melting away, it hissed into the clouds.

“The prophesssssssssssssy…Russsssssssia…Taslk shuin melak.”

--
A cool sea breeze cut into the warm night air on San Francisco’s Pier 39, as the group walked through the remains of the white haze. Buffy was still dozing in Spike’s arms as Willow led them through the dock area, speckled with late night tourists, to a small, white beach house. Willow, Andrew, and Illyria entered the home, forgetting the two vampires on the porch. Spike cleared his throat, and Willow blushed.

“Oh, right…vampires. Sorry! It’s been so long since we’ve entertained. Spike, Angel, come inside.”

“Thanks for remembering, Red.”

Spike easily found his way into the home’s living room, and gingerly set Buffy down on the couch. Brushing a few strands of her hair out of her still closed eyes, Spike gazed at her in loving disbelief. The mood was shattered as Angel stormed into the room.

“Oh, stop making ‘moon eyes’ at her Spike! You’re disgusting. She’s unconscious!”

Spike began to hush his grandsire, but the damage of his loud whine had already been done. Buffy’s green eyes fluttered open and she smiled when they fell on Spike.

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself, pet.”

“You’re okay,” she said hoarsely.

Spike smiled as he helped her sit up.

“I am, love.”

A half-hearted smack crashed into Spike’s chest. Buffy frowned at him.

“So, letting me know you were alive wasn’t important, hmm?”

Spike’s face washed over with an amused frustration.

“And how was I supposed to get a hold of you, pet? Not that I knew it anyway, but the only phone you had is in a crater now. And for all I knew, you were happy trolling around town with the Immortal.”

Buffy rolled her eyes.

“That’s no excuse. You should have known where I was.”

“And why’s that, pet?”

She fluttered her eyelashes becomingly.

“Because you love me?”

“Yeah, and as I recall, you said you loved me too, and I didn’t see you tromping around trying to find me.”

Angel sighed, loudly, in the corner of the room.

“Cut it out! Jeez, you two are like teenagers! We have more important things to figure…”

His voice trailed off as a mess of blonde curls skipped down the stairs, cradling a stuffed, pink pig far too large for her tiny arms to carry. She stared at Spike for a moment, and then turned to Buffy.

“Mummy, who are all of these people?”

A cold splash of water roused both Spike and Angel. Buffy stood above the former, a sheepish grin on her face.

“Fainting was not the reaction I expected. How can you faint, anyway? Don’t you have to have a pulse, or blood flow or something?”

Spike sat up woozily, but Angel remained on the floor, his hands cupping his wet face.

“We ate before we left for the battle...makes it a little easier to have blood to rush to your head.”

Buffy nodded and helped Spike up to the couch, sitting next to him, and offering him the remaining half of the glass of water. He shook his head. The small, curly haired girl sat across from them in a large chair, which further accentuated her small stature. Her small legs kicked back and forth to a silent rhythm. Spike eyed her cautiously, and, when she noticed his glances, she beamed brightly.

“Hi!”

“Hullo…what’s your name, poppet?”

“Uh uh,” the girl said, shaking her head. “Mummy said that a lady never introduces herself first. You go.”

Spike smiled at her.

“Well, my name is William, but everyone calls me Spike.”

A light, bubbling laughter poured from the girl’s lips.

“That’s a silly name, ‘Spike.’ It’s like the doggy on the cartoon I watch! His name is ‘Spike’ too. Do you like dogs?”

“Not really. But since I introduced m’self, you can tell me your name, can’t you?”

Buffy smiled and nodded when the girl, faintly her duplicate, looked questioningly at her.

“My name’s Calidia, but everyone calls me ‘Callie.’”

Spike nodded.

“And how old are you, Callie?”

She sucked absentmindedly on her tooth, and cocked her head to the side.

“I’m one and a half, but I’ll be two in July! Mummy,” she said, turning toward Buffy, “How long until my birthday?”

“Well, July is number eight, and this is April, number four…”

“…Four months?”

“Yep!”

Callie beamed at Spike.

“I’ll be two in four months.”

Spike stood and grabbed Buffy’s hand, leading her out of the room, quickly, an “Excuse us,” barely escaping his lips. Callie looked at Willow, then at Andrew, and smiled at Illyria.

“I like your hair. It’s pretty.”

“Thank you,” Illyria replied, crouching down to aide Angel in standing again.

Callie frowned at him as he rose.

“I don’t like you.”

Angel blinked rapidly and stammered.

“Wwwhy?”

“Because you look mean. You have a big face and I don’t like it. My Mummy says that I’m never to trust boys with big faces.”

--

Buffy couldn’t contain her bright smile, almost identical to Callie’s, as Spike paced in front of her in the secluded hallway.

“You’re going to wear out the carpet, Spike.”

Spike’s arms flew up in frustration.

“She said you missed me, but obviously not enough. Why did you all bring me here Buffy? To torture me? Does Red have it in for me? Eh? Wants to see how I’ll react when I find out that, no, you haven’t been shagging the Immortal like I thought, but you obviously moved on quickly, because, ‘Hey, here’s my little girl, Spike,’ and hey, ‘Doesn’t that mean I was shagging someone else while we were still together?’”

Buffy sighed.

“Are you quite finished?”

A flustered, yet blank stare was her reply. She smiled and stroked his cheekbones with a thin finger.

“She’s yours, you dope.”

He backed away from her and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. That trick doesn’t work on me, pet. Vampire, you know, can’t have kiddies.”

She nodded.

“Right, not in the normal way. But there she is, as real as anything.”

“But…how?”

Willow cleared her throat, and stepped into the hallway.

“I couldn’t help overhearing. Spike, you remember when the gem’s power started to surge through you, and you started glowing?”

“Yeah, Red, I think I’d remember that.”

“Well, Buffy said she grabbed your hand then, right?”

”Yeah…”

“When she did that, a part of your energy, through your soul, retained in her, and…well…it needed somewhere to go, so it went….”

Buffy chuckled.

“Boy did it.”

“But she looks…she doesn’t look like a one-year-old, Red,” Spike said. “She looks at least six or so…is she alright?”

Buffy’s face dropped slightly, and she sighed.

“See, that’s the thing…I was only pregnant for about four months when I had her, and she’s been growing so fast…in every way. She’s mentally and physically about six, but she’s only two…Willow thinks it’s because she’s immortal.”

“She a vampire then?”

Willow shook her head and shrugged.

“No…not really. Anyway, she’s immortal, and is as powerful as a vampire, but she doesn’t need blood.”

“She is a little sensitive to the sun,” Buffy added, “but we’ve figured out with some research, that there is a prophecy about her.”

Spike raised an eyebrow.

“A prophecy about Callie?”

Willow nodded.

“It said that there would be born an immortal child of a
Champion and the Chosen One, who would rid the world of evil…if…”

“If, what, Red?”

Buffy sighed.

“Willow, I think that’s enough for now, I’ll talk to him about it in the morning. I’m kind of exhausted.”

Spike could have sworn he saw the witch’s eyes glimmer at Buffy as she left them alone in the hallway. He felt himself harden as Buffy pressed herself into his chest.

“We have a lot of catching up to do Spike.”

He wiggled an eyebrow and rolled his tongue behind his teeth.

“Really? And how do you plan on catching up, pet?”

“Oh, I’ve had a few ideas floating around since you’ve been gone…I just never thought I’d get to use them.”

“Yeah, like what?”

Spike placed a firm grip around her waist, and nuzzled his face into her neck. She backed away suddenly, and cleared her throat. Callie sniffled and rubbed her sleepy eyes.

“Mummy, I’m tired. May I go to bed, please?”

Buffy smiled and extended her palm to the small girl.

“Of course, sweetheart, do you want me to read you a bedtime story?”

Callie stopped in her tracks, shook her head, and pointed at Spike.

“No. I want him to read me one.”

If Spike could have blushed, he would have, but instead, he stammered.

“Why…why do you want me to read to you, poppet?”

“Well, Mummy’s read to me before, and I figured my Papa should read now.”

Buffy’s eyes grew wide.

“Callie, honey, why did you call Spike your Papa? Did someone tell you something?”

Callie shook her head.

“No Mummy, he just looks like me, and he sounds like the man on the speech tapes you make me listen to. You always said Papa sounded like him.”

Kneeling in front of the curly-haired girl, Spike smiled.

“You’re very bright, just like your Mum, poppet.”

“I knew you were my Papa when I saw you carrying Mummy earlier. Why were you gone so long Papa? Mummy said you were on a special mission, but you couldn’t come home. Wasn’t I special enough for you to come home when I was born, Papa?”

Tears brimmed in Buffy’s eyes, and she turned her head to hide them, but Spike’s own moist eyes caught the image. His heart felt as if it was melting.

“I didn’t want to go, poppet, but if I hadn’t gone on that mission, we wouldn’t have the most special thing in the world…you. Now quit your dawdling, because your Mum and I have to plan something extra-special for all of us to do tomorrow, yeah?”

Callie’s smile was bright enough to warrant sunglasses.

“Yeah!”

"I'll be up to read to you in a minute, poppet."

"Okay! G’night Mummy!"

Callie pecked each of them on the cheek before she galloped off to her bedroom, her pink pig still in tow. Spike stood up and pulled Buffy into a tight embrace. For a few moments, they were silent. He breathed her scent in and sighed in contentment. Smiling, he held her even closer to himself.

“What ‘tapes’ was she talking about, pet?”

“Oh, when she first started speaking, she had a little lisp, so we bought her an English language instructional tape. It seemed to help a lot.”

“Berlitz?”

“Yes.”

He chuckled.

“Did you listen to it first?”

“No.”

”When did you notice…”

“By the time she started saying ‘G’morning Mummy, I want some spam and eggs, pip, pip, cheerio!’ it was too late,” Buffy said in a thick, cockney accent. "I figured I could use it to help her understand how her Papa spoke. She seemed to like speaking like her Papa, so we didn't try to change her accent."

Spike laughed loudly, his eyes sparkled when he caught her gaze again.

“I love you, you know.”

”And I meant what I said at the Hellmouth, you know.”

“I know, pet.”

“Let’s go to bed Spike.”

Callie cleared her throat from the top of the stairs, waggling a worn copy of "Goldilocks and the Three Bears" fervently.

"I'll meet you there, pet. Looks like I've got a date with a little girl and the three bears."

--

Buffy led Spike into a large, green room. Spike smiled and looked at Buffy.

Same color as her eyes

As if she could read his mind, Buffy grinned in response.

“Do you like the color?”

He chuckled and grabbed her hands in his own, drawing her close to him.

“Course I do, pet.”

“I would have used blue, but after I described how you look to Callie, she decided that her room was going to be the color of your eyes, and she didn’t want to share it with anyone.”

She laughed as they sat on the edge of the large bed.

“She really is a lot like you, Spike. Her expressions…the way she thinks, it was like you were here with us sometimes.”

“ ‘m here now, pet.”

“I know,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder, and curling her legs over his, “you really have no idea how much I’ve missed you, Spike.”

“I’ve missed you too…just thought you would be better off remembering me dying as a Champion. It was nice to think that you had a good image of me as your last.”

“And you don’t think I had the right to choose what that image was? Spike…I could never…uh. Nothing could change my good opinion of you. You took care of me when I came back from heaven, you took care of Dawn when I couldn’t, you…. You’ve been the only person to be there for me no matter how poorly I treated you.”

Spike snickered lightly, and gently patted Buffy’s hands.

“Motherhood has made you a lot smarter, pet.”

“Hey! Are you saying I was dumb before? Because this little Hallmark moment can hurt if….”

He covered her mouth in a rough kiss before she could finish. As he broke it, he smiled at her reaction.

“Not saying that at all, pet, it just seems that now you’ve got all your ducks in a row.”

“I’m done baking.”

“Pardon?”

”Oh, never mind…ask Angel sometime”

“I’d rather keep my conversations with the Poofter to a minimum, love.”

Buffy’s thrillingly melodic laugh permeated the room. Her eyes sparkled at Spike, and she stood about him, straddled over his lap. He could feel his arousal hardening beneath her, but restrained himself from acting on his instincts. Buffy slowly began to strip off her clothes, hanging her thin tank top around his neck, playfully. He was pleased to see she wasn’t wearing a bra. Almost the instant that her tight jeans hit the floor, Spike’s basic instincts took over, and he swept her up in his arms. He planted soft kisses all over her body before gently tossing her onto the bed. His duster, t-shirt, and jeans, lay crumpled on the floor in an instant, and he quickly joined her on the soft mattress.

For moments that seemed like an eternity, they stared into each other’s eyes in silence. Spike broke the spell as he thrust into Buffy’s wetness. Their former silence now forgotten, Buffy and Spike moaned out in ecstasy with every fluid motion. Buffy caught Spike’s gaze and breathlessly spoke.

“I’m yours Spike…in every way but one.”

Spike’s eyes searched Buffy’s for her meaning. He felt himself nearly spill over as Buffy’s blunt teeth bit into his throat, drawing a few drops of blood, which glistened on her lips. She licked the drops off quickly.

“You’re mine Spike…make me yours.”

Without another moment for thought, Spike’s vampiric mask emerged and his sharp teeth pierced into Buffy’s neck, covering the marks left by the Master, Angel, and Dracula.

“You’re mine Buffy.”

Spike’s vision blurred as his orgasm flooded over him. His deep thrusts were all Buffy needed to send her over the brink as well. Heaving in unison, Spike rolled over to Buffy’s side and gazed at her lovingly, though he was met with a slightly distant glimmer in her eyes.

“Buffy, love, do you know what we just did?”

She nodded as she trailed a finger down his sweat-soaked chest.

“Why do you think I wanted to get you alone so quickly? It’s all I’ve thought about since….”

“Since when, pet?”

She blushed and giggled nervously, curling her body into his, and pulling the covers over them.

“Since forever ago. I love you Spike. And I want everyone to know it.”

“Love you too, pet. You all right, though? You’re acting kind of…squirmy.”

“I’m just tired. It’s been a very long time since I’ve….”

“Oh, yeah. Right. That. Forgot, pet. You’d better rest now. We do have a lot of catching up to do.”
She smiled as she closed her eyes. Spike put his arm around her and watched her chest rise and fall for minutes that seemed like hours, before finally closing his own eyes, and relaxing. Spike couldn’t quiet the tugging thought in his head.

What’d she mean by all that?


--

When Buffy awoke, Spike was gone. She bolted out of her bed when she heard Callie’s high-pitched scream echo through the house. She was at her daughter’s side in seconds before she realized the reason for her scream. Callie teetered on a chair a few feet away from Spike, who was holding a small, green snake by its head. Buffy’s heart rate slowed as Callie hopped down and threw her arms around her.

“Oh, Mummy! Papa saved me from the snake! He was much braver than you’d be!”

Buffy sighed and nodded at her daughter.

“I’m just like you, sweetheart, at least about snakes. Icky is so not us, is it?”

“They are icky Mummy…but I think I want to keep him!”

Spike grinned evilly and walked toward her, thrusting the snake near Callie.

“Oh, you aren’t scared anymore then, poppet? Here, then. You can hold him for a while!”

With an “eep,” Callie was back up on the chair, squirming.

“No, Papa! I want to keep him in a cage! Far, far away from my hands! I don’t want to touch him! Eeew!!”

Spike shook his head, and suppressed a smile.

“Tsk, tsk, poppet. That’s not very nice. Would you want to live in a cage all day just because someone bigger’n you thought you were icky?”

Callie shuffled her feet sadly, and sat down on the chair.

“No….”

“Alright then. Do you want to take him outside and let
him go in the garden?”

“Yes….”

“Good girl. Buffy, could you….”

Sucking in a determined breath, Buffy took a hold of the snake, and Callie’s tiny hand in one fell swoop, and ran out into the yard. Far enough away from the window to avoid the sun, Spike watched as Buffy heaved the snake into the weeds, before scooping Callie into her arms and running back into the house, screaming all the way. Spike sighed, and folded his arms as they entered.

“Glad to see you’ve still retained your Slayer bravery.”
Buffy scowled at Spike as Callie tugged on his t-shirt.

“Papa? Why couldn’t you take the snake outside? You’re much braver than Mummy.”

“Because, poppet, I can’t go out in the sun.”

“Oh. Is that because you’re an albatross?”

“What?”

“I saw a movie about a boy who couldn’t go out in the
sun because he was an albatross.”

Buffy laughed and gave Callie a quick hug.

“Albino, honey. You mean albino.”

“Oh. Well is that what Papa is?”

“No, poppet,” Spike said, “but it is kind of similar.”

“Callie,” Buffy said, “do you remember when we were watching Sesame Street, and the Count came on?”

Callie nodded.

“So, Papa is a puppet?”

Images of Angel’s brief forte into puppet-life flashed in Spike’s mind, and he smirked.

“No, poppet, I’m a vampire.”

“Oh. You don’t eat anyone do you Papa?”

“Not anymore. But if anyone hurts you, I might.”

Callie giggled and enveloped him in as full of a hug as
her tiny arms could muster.

“Good. Mummy, is it alright if I go play with Aunt Willow now?”

“Of course, sweetheart, would you tell her that I need to talk to her later?”

“Yes, Mummy.”

Callie ran out of the room, on her tiptoes, humming happily.

“You really are a good mother, pet.”

“And you’re not so bad yourself.”

“Excuse me. I’m no mother.”

“You know what I meant.”

“Right. Can we talk ‘bout last night, pet?”

“Sure, I guess. What’s up?”

“Buffy. Don’t be so flippant…that was a big deal…I…we claimed each other, pet.”

“I know. I kind of expected more hoopla with it.”

“Yeah, pet, so did I. That’s what worries me. Did you really want to do that?”

“Of course…why?”

“Because, pet, these things tend to foul up if they aren’t done properly.”

Before Buffy could open her mouth, Willow’s loud voice shattered their moment.

“Buffy! Callie just said you wanted me…did you trick him into claiming….”

Her voice dropped as she entered the kitchen, and she realized Spike was in the room.

“Oh…hi, Spike.”

His brows furrowed in a mix of rage and heartbreak. He fixed his broken, watery gaze on Buffy.

“You wanted to, eh?”

Spike stormed out of the kitchen and into the closest doorway, which lead to the basement. Tears fell freely
from Buffy’s eyes as the slamming of the door echoed through the house. Willow turned to her and stammered, trying to console her friend.

“Oh…Buffy…I’m so sorry…I just…I thought you were alone.”

“It’s alright Wills. I don’t think it worked anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“Spike said…there…there was just nothing, Willow. I’ve wanted Spike since before he died…I’ve loved him since before then. That’s why I haven’t even looked at any guys here…I just…I didn’t want him to think I was only doing it for Callie’s future, for the prophecy, but I couldn’t tell him about it, and now….”

“Buffy, I know. But maybe it’s just because you didn’t tell him.”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe your heart knew that if you weren’t being completely honest, you shouldn’t start a commitment like that. No sense hiding things from him before your claim…you can’t hide anything from him after it, you know.”

--

Spike cried out as he punched a wall in the basement.
That BITCH! That lying, scheming…Gods! You’re no better. Who are you fooling, you idiot? No one, that’s who. And now, instead of shagging her, you’re down her punching a wall. Big, scary idiot. How can you expect her to be honest when you can’t? Gods…why can’t anything be easy for us, for once???

It was hours before Buffy could muster up the courage to walk down the basement stairs. Spike had vanished, unbeknownst to her until that moment, as soon as the sun set an hour earlier. Tears dropped from her eyes as she plopped down on a small workbench. A paper crinkled underneath her as she sat, so she jumped up, dramatically. She stared at the offending sheet, embarrassed.

Wow…I’ve really been out of practice if a piece of paper is scaring me.

The dirty paper was folded in half, and Buffy accordingly picked it up with fingers outstretched, so she didn’t risk sullying her good sweater. A quick gasp fell from her lips as she read the few words.

“Buffy-
If you really want this, come find me. You’re the Slayer and can smell a vamp from a mile off, so you shouldn’t have any trouble sussing me out. If you don’t want this…for yourself and no one else, give my love to Callie.
-S.”

Twenty minutes later, Buffy was hot on Spike’s heels, and Angel was helping Willow load Callie into her SUV. Andrew ran to the front passenger side door, nearly knocking Angel over.

“Frontsies!”

Callie pouted in her mother’s practiced fashion as Angel strapped her into her car seat.

“Mummy promised me that she and Papa would take me today.”

Willow sighed and smiled, sadly at Callie.

“I know, honey, but they’ll have to take you another time. They had an emergency.”

“Oh. Well, why does he have to come,” Callie asked, frowning at Angel.

Willow shrugged at Angel, who sighed, and climbed into the SUV, sandwiched between Illyria and Callie’s car seat. Callie continued to frown at him until they arrived at the ballet.

--

Buffy walked cautiously through the cold graveyard. Distant bells clamored in the sea breeze, and she shivered as a gust of wind hit her back.

“God, I took Sunnydale for granted. This place is barely warmer than Antarctica.”

“It’s quite a bit warmer than Antarctica, pet, as you notice there are no penguins tromping about here. It’s just a bit nipply tonight.”

Her face flushed slightly when she noticed her perked nipples, before turning around to greet Spike.

“Spike, I….”

“Hush, pet. ‘s alright. Just wanted to know where you stood.”

“I know…I…I wanted to…I really did, I just…and everything with Callie…I mean, I would have told you…
I should have…I wanted to, I was just….”

“Just what, pet?”

“Afraid.”

“Of me?”

“Sort of.”

“Why?”

”I was afraid you’d reject me if I told you…or everything wouldn’t work if I told you and you just did it because you felt you had to….”

“Is that why you did it, Buffy? For Callie’s sake?”

“No…no…I don’t…uh! No. I just felt so guilty doing it without telling you. I think that’s why the whole ‘claim’ thing didn’t work.”

“Well, you told me now, yeah?”

“Yeah….”

“Right then.”

Spike’s face shifted into its vampiric mask, and he lunged at Buffy, who suppressed her Slayer instinct to duck and dust. She felt herself moisten as his teeth pierced into the wounds he had left the previous night. After a few gulps, he drew back.

“Mine,” he yelled his voice hoarse and shaking.

Buffy felt herself melt as she bit into him with great force, her blunt teeth drawing a few drops of blood.

“Mine,” she responded, her own hoarse voice surprising her.

Instantly, they knew that this moment was different. A bright, sapphire blue streak flashed through their corneas, and, as Buffy felt a cooling sensation pass through her being, Spike’s body received a warming sensation. He began to call out to her, but his voice was lost in his throat. The blue streaks now emanated through their bodies in a quick burst, giving each of them a momentary “Smurf-like” appearance. Buffy and Spike felt as if they were sinking into the ground as a medley of each other’s memories flooded through their minds.

A final flash of the sapphire light enveloped them before dissipating throughout the graveyard. Buffy and Spike stared at each other for a few moments, in silence. Sucking a deep breath of air in, Buffy broke through the quiet.

“That was….”

“I’m sorry, pet.”

“Sorry? For what?”

“You saw my past, yeah? I know I saw yours.”

“Oh…well, I’m sorry too then.”

“For what?”

”Probably the same things you are.”

“You never killed and ate an entire family, pet.”

“Well, no…but I was just as terrible to you. So I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, eyeing up his mate.

God, I don’t deserve her.

“Of course you deserve me…wait, how’d you do that? You’ve been taking ventriloquist lessons?”

“Buffy, pet, I…I thought that. How’d you hear me?”

“I dunno. I just…did,” she said, biting her lip. “Okay, you try!”

Buffy furrowed her brow in deep thought, and Spike stared at her. He grinned instantly, and picked her up, pressing her back to a large tombstone.

“That’s a filthy idea, Slayer. You’ve been hanging around sailors while I was gone?”

Buffy writhed free of her dampened panties, letting them fall to the ground, as Spike unzipped his trousers. As he thrust into her, the sapphire haze returned and filled them both. Though their trysts had always been passionate and satisfying, this experience was entirely different. From the instant Spike thrust into her, each felt as if they were having intense orgasms, though it didn’t hinder Spike’s passionate movements. He cupped her breasts in his hands, and gently pierced his sharp teeth into her throat, her blood tasting decidedly sweeter. Buffy arched at this new sensation, and latched onto Spike’s neck. Simultaneously, a rumbling hot orgasm pulsated through their bodies, almost knocking them both over.

Spike let Buffy gently down from his arms and they stood, staring into each other’s eyes. Their gazes would have remained locked forever if not for a sudden, and violent, gust of wind. Buffy shivered and clung to Spike, who was now staring, in awe, at the sapphire clouds circling above them. Bright flashes of lightning and loud eruptions of thunder made Buffy jump. The clouds suddenly, if by some design, swirled around, and blew northwards, toward Buffy’s home. Her eyes went wide with fear.

“Oh God, Callie!”

--

By the time Buffy and Spike reached her house, the clouds had already vanished, and the first pangs of daybreak were forming. Entering the house, they were greeted by a slightly perturbed Angel.

“Great. You two don’t even show up until now. I had to go to the ballet because of you two. And your daughter? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

“Where is she,” Buffy asked, frantically.

“Well, after she called me a ‘Bloody wanker,’ she walked off into her room. I think she went to bed.”

If he hadn’t been so worried about his child, Spike would have been rolling on the floor in laughter. As it was, he and Buffy rushed up the stairs to Callie’s room. A few tufts of blue clouds still hung in the air about Callie’s bed. Buffy ran to her daughter’s side, and lightly shook her.

“Callie? Callie, honey? Wake up…oh, God, wake up….”

Callie’s eyes fluttered open, and she yawned.

“What is it Mummy?”

”Are you…do you feel alright, sweetie?”

“Yes, but I’m very tired Mummy. We went to the ballet. It was very fun, except I missed you and Angel was all pouty. He looked very silly.”

“I’ll bet he did, sweetheart.”

“But you can’t call people ‘wankers’ just because you don’t like them, poppet,” Spike added. “You have to have a real reason.”

Callie stretched her small arms out and nodded.

“But he was boring.”

“I know he is, honey,” Buffy said. “You’re sure you feel okay though?”

“Yes, Mummy.”

Spike pulled at Buffy’s shoulders.

“That’s good, poppet; back to sleep now.”

“G’night Papa. G’night Mummy.”

As Callie’s eyes fluttered shut again, Spike led Buffy out of Callie’s room, and down to her own.

“Come along, pet. We’ll figure this all out tomorrow. She’s alright now…that’s all we need to know.”

“But the prophecy…she…shouldn’t something…I dunno, shouldn’t something happen?”

“Give it time, pet. At any rate, we have other things to attend to now.”

In a flash, Spike had shut the door in Buffy’s room, and stood before her, nude. With a gusto that only comes through years of practice, he removed her clothes before she even realized what he was doing, and tossed them to the floor. As they lay down on the bed, their bodies intertwined, the blue haze filled their bodies, and the room, yet again. Buffy smiled in mirth.

“This smoke thing might get old after a while.”

“I think it gives the room some ambiance, pet.”

Buffy and Spike cried out in synchronized ecstasy, and then fell back on each other, drifting into sleep.



--



Willow’s frightened scream burst through Spike and Buffy’s orgasmic slumber. Quickly covering themselves in the sheets they were resting underneath, they ran toward the sound; toward Callie’s room.

“Oh God, no. I knew we shouldn’t have left her alone!”

No amount of dealing with the various demons and happenings on the Hellmouth could have prepared them for the sight they were greeted with. Where the night before a small girl had slept, in her wake sat a frightened young woman, with Spike’s blue eyes, and Buffy’s full lips. Buffy stared at her in disbelief for a moment, before speaking.

“Callie?”

“Mummy,” the woman wailed, “what happened to me?”

Callie now appeared to be twenty-one, and she displayed the physical strengths that Buffy had in her prime of slaying.

“I don’t know, honey…Willow?”

Willow was still standing, her mouth agape, at the doorway. Unable or unwilling to speak, she simply shook her head.

A bright flash blinded the group for a moment, but, when their eyes readjusted, Willow’s stunned silence abetted.

“Tara?”

Willow’s feet had not caught up with her tongue, because she still couldn’t move. Tara stood by Callie’s side, dressed in a shimmering white tunic. She smiled at Willow, and then turned to Callie.

“Callie, honey, I think I can explain what happened.”

Buffy walked to Spike’s aide, and he draped his arm around her shoulder.

“Glinda, you look good. Death becomes you.”

“Thanks,” she laughed. “The Powers That Be thought that we could help Callie to achieve the full potential of her prophecy. I had almost lost all hope when you were fighting that dragon, Spike. We’ve been waiting for you and Buffy to finally mate so we could help Callie.”

“What’d you mean, ‘we,’ Glinda? I only see….”

Two more flashes entered the room, though, not as blindingly bright. Out of the lights stepped Anya, and Buffy’s mother, Joyce, both dressed in the same shimmering fabric. Anya’s tunic was decidedly shorter and tighter than the others.

“Buffy! You guys finally did it! And boy did you! I wish I could’ve had orgasms like that while I was still alive…this gig is nice, but I’d take a good, solid orgasm any day.”

“Anya, hush,” Joyce chided. “Buffy…you look too skinny! Honey, are you feeling alright?”

Buffy smiled and enveloped her mother in a hug.

“Mom! God…you look…you look great! How did you guys get here?”

Anya grinned, mischievously, as she looked at Buffy.

“Well, when I died, I was called to a higher position in the vengeance demon ‘corporate ladder.’ Seems not everyone was so pleased when D’hoffryn axed Halfrek. A few written exams and a blood work test later, and ‘poof,’ I’m the boss! After I had that position, it was fairly easy for me to pull some strings for your Mom and Tara, once I noticed your…condition.”

Buffy mouthed a silent “Thank you,” to Anya, but was still so elated to see her mother again, words failed her. Seeing the opportunity to speak again, Anya continued.

“So, we’ve been watching over you guys since I first saw your growing tummy, Buffy. But we’ve been so sick of waiting for you and Spike to finally get back together!”

“Anya, what happened to Callie?”

“I was getting to that. Jeez, I forget how impatient mortals can be…oh…well, that’s the other thing Buffy….”

“What?”

“Well, since you and Spike mated, you aren’t mortal anymore.”

“What do you mean? I’m, like, a vampire now?”

“No…jeez, for ‘the Chosen One,’ you sure are dumb. You’re both immortal now, and you’re both stronger now then you ever were before. Spike, you don’t even need much blood anymore…once or twice a month, maybe, and definitely after any injuries, but you shouldn’t need much at all. Plus, you aren’t as vulnerable to the sun…but you might get a little sunburny easily….”

Joyce smiled.

“So, you might want to wear some extra SPF, dear.”

“Right,” Anya said, “and you aren’t as vulnerable to dying either…together, the two of you are almost invincible.”

“Almost? What’d you mean,” Spike asked.

Anya trailed off and looked to Tara for aide. Tara smiled sheepishly and sighed.

“It’s probably best if we don’t talk about that now.”

Tara’s gaze centered on Callie, who was almost oblivious to the three intruders. She sat on her bed, her legs curled underneath her, staring at her enlarged arms.

“Mummy, I feel funny. What happened?”

Buffy’s eyes pleaded with Anya for answers. Anya nodded.

“Well, Buffy, Callie’s growth spurt is because of you and Spike mating…she would have gotten this big in about a year or two, anyway, but the mating sped that process up. It’s all in the prophecy, if you read the fine print. She still has the mentality of a child, but her mind should catch up in the next month or so, though, it will keep growing forever. She’s immortal, too, and her body won’t ever age from this point.”

Callie looked up at the mention of her name, but turned to her mother, a confused expression plastered on her beautiful face.

“Mummy, what does that mean?”

“Callie, honey, do you remember how Mummy told you that you were special?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I,” Buffy’s voice faltered as her eyes brimmed over with tears. Spike sat next to Callie on her bed, patting her hands.

“Poppet, you’re a very special gift to your Mum and me, straight from heaven, right? And because you’re so very special, The Powers That Be want you to help people and be special for everyone. You understand?”

Callie shook her head, slowly.

“I’m sorry, Papa…I don’t know what you mean.”

Spike sighed and furrowed his brow.

“Well, poppet, it’s like you have very good cookies and, instead of being greedy and eating them all yourself, you decided to share them with everyone. Do you follow?”

Callie’s eyes flashed and she nodded her head, before breaking out into a smile.

“I understand, Papa! But…I don’t have any cookies….”

“I know, poppet, but your ‘cookies’ are your special powers. And, instead of feeding people, you’re helping them by getting rid of bad guys.”

“So, I’m like Batman?”

Spike chuckled.

“I s’ppose so, poppet. But you don’t wear a cape.”

“But, I could if I wanted to?”

“Of course.”

“Good.”

Anya cleared her throat.

“Buffy, we do have to be going now, but we’ll be back to check up on you.”

“As often as we can, dear,” Joyce said.

Tara smiled and whispered to Buffy.

“And I’ll let you know the other part of Callie’s prophecy, but only if I need to. There’s no use in worrying you unless we need to.”

In another bright flash, the three women were gone. Willow’s face grew pale.

“Buffy, she didn’t even say goodbye to me….”

“It’s okay, Will…she’ll be back. But at least you know she’s at peace.”

Willow nodded.

“I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you guys…Angel, Illyria and I are leaving tomorrow. Giles called me this morning…I guess there’s a Hellmouth opening in Chicago. He wants the three of us to be there, just in case.”

“I understand Wills.”

“We haven’t told Andrew, yet, but I thought he needed to stay here in case…”

“In case we needed a babysitter? Think we’re long past needing one of those, Red,” Spike said.

“No…in case you guys fall short on funds. He…Andrew really has a mind for business, you know. If he’s helping to support you guys, you can spend more time training Callie….”

Buffy’s dampened eyes filled again with tears.

“Thank you Will. For everything.”

Willow hugged Buffy tightly for a moment, before breaking the embrace.

“Hey, you, no more tears, okay? We all have to be strong now…or are you just crying because you don’t want to be all alone with Andrew? Because that I can understand….”

Buffy laughed and wiped her eyes dry.

“I really will miss you, you know.”

“Oh, like I can’t just teleport back here at a moment’s notice? Please, Buffy. You’ll always be able to reach me. You know that. I might be a thousand miles away, but with my powers, it’s only a half a second’s trip!”

The two women smiled at each other, silently remembering their long history. Willow sniffled and dried her damp eyes.

“Well, I’d better get packing. I have a lot of things I need to get ready before tomorrow, and I think your little family should be alone for a while.”

Willow smiled at the three immortals before quietly walking down the hallway to her room. Buffy sighed as she plopped down next to Spike and Callie on the bed.

“It will be nice to have some quiet around here for once….”

--

~50 Years Later~

Three clouds of gray dust, which had previously been powerful and feared vampires, erupted around a tall, thin, and gorgeous blonde woman. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the sand dunes for other opponents. Finding none, she lifted a pack of weapons onto her taut back. She covered her face in a scarf, leaving only her blue eyes visible through a thinner part of the material. Wind rushed around her as she trudged through the desert, and she had to close her eyes with every violent gust of wind, despite the scarf’s filtering effect.

Her eyes still half-shut, she thrust a powerful kick into the chest of a demonic figure that suddenly growled behind her. The stout, black and tan demon howled in pain, but recovered quickly, and charged at her; its rhinoceros-like horn pointed toward her heart. A whistling arrow plunged into the demon, and its body crumbled into blocks as it fell to the sand. The woman sighed, and brushed herself off.

“Thanks, Mum.”

Buffy and Spike, unchanged in appearance aside from Buffy’s attire, as Spike was still too stubborn to give up his “Bad Boy” look, stepped out of the dark desert. Buffy scanned her daughter’s form, searching for wounds.

“Callie, sweetheart, are you alright?”

Callie nodded, removing the scarf as the wind died down, and she shook the sand from her long, blonde locks.

“Yes, Mum, I’m fine. What are you two doing here?”

Spike moved forward and embraced his daughter, while simultaneously checking her back for wounds Buffy’s scan may have missed.

“She’s okay, Buffy.”

“Oh, thank God…I can’t believe I forgot to check her back!”

When Callie rolled her eyes after noticing her parent’s worried glances at her, Spike sighed.

“We’ve missed you, poppet…sorry to baby you, there’s just no one your Mum and I really have to worry about these days.”

Callie stepped back, a distinct sadness in her eyes.

“Aunt Willow?”

Buffy nodded.

“Very peacefully, Callie. Tara came to her right as she was…as she was leaving us. The coven said she had a higher calling now, whatever that means.”

"Why is it that everyone has to have a 'higher calling'? It isn't fair...why can't we just....uh!"

Spike sighed, putting his hand to his temple and shaking his head.

"I don't know, poppet. The Powers That Be tend to leave us all in the dark about that sort of thing. You should know that by now."

Callie nodded and bit her lip, in pained thought.

“How long ago did she...?”

“About three months.”

“We’ve had a hard time finding you, poppet,” Spike said, a slight tone of admonishment creeping into his voice.

Callie’s head dropped down, her eyes brimming with tears.

“I’m sorry…I…I wish…I should have been there with her.”

“Honey,” Buffy said, rubbing her back, “it’s alright. Willow knew you loved her, and she knew you were needed here…or, wherever you’ve been this past year.”

“I just got here this month, Mum, and I’m really quite ready to leave.”

“Constantinople not to your liking, poppet,” Spike asked.

“Istanbul, Papa.”

Spike laughed.

“It’ll always be Constantinople to me, poppet.”

Buffy motioned toward the dim lights of the city, and they began to walk toward them.

“So, where are you staying, Callie?”

“I have a small apartment in the city. Nothing major; I’m just staying till the Council lets me know where else I’m needed.”

The Council was much changed since Buffy’s days as the Slayer; Giles and his protégé, Dawn, had led the Council into a new era of just and fair leadership. After Giles passed away 25 years earlier, Dawn had taken his position. She began to train her daughter, Maria, a girl who looked suspiciously like Andrew, to be her successor. Two years later, Dawn lost all of her abilities to remain in human form, and, as her true essence emerged, she began to emit a bright yellow glow, before her energy dissipated into a burst of the bright light.

Callie had been the main focus of the Council until the new Slayer, a young girl in Russia, murdered her Watcher and ran into hiding as Dawn was dissipating, and the Hellmouth in Chicago was closing. Illyria and Angel, whom Spike had always thought would outlive them all, died valiantly, while closing the Hellmouth almost as soon as they had gotten to Chicago, fifty years earlier, although, Angelus returned in the previous year, due to a strange loophole the Powers That Be had missed, until Callie sent him back to Hell. Willow had been the only survivor in what the government called “freak earthquake,” and with her death, Spike and Buffy were truly alone.

Callie flicked on the lights in her small, but cozy, apartment, as she and her parents entered.

“Thirsty?”

Buffy and Spike nodded, and Callie poured three tall glasses of iced tea for them. She sat on an oaken chair, and nodded for Buffy and Spike to do the same.

“So, you aren’t just here because of Aunt Willow, are you?”

Buffy looked at Spike, and shook her head, her eyes tearing up. He wrapped his hand around hers as he turned to their daughter.

“No, poppet, ‘m afraid not. We’ve never been able to keep anything from that brain of yours, have we? Smart as a whip, my girl is.”

“It’s the prophecy, isn’t it, Papa?”

“Yeah.”

Callie sighed.

“So, what now?”

“Well, we aren’t entirely sure, but we think….”

“We think you’re in grave danger, Callie,” Buffy interrupted. “I think…I think we all are.”

“Why, Mum?”

”Oh, God, Callie…I can’t even…I don’t want to even think about it.”

Comprehension flashed across Callie’s face.

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?”

Buffy somberly nodded.

“It’s the new Slayer, Callie…she…the prophecy says that if you don’t destroy her…then you’ll….”

“Then I’ll what?”

Buffy buried her head in Spike’s chest, her broken sobs ripping his heart out.

“Then the two of you’ll kill us all, poppet.”

--

Callie, Buffy, and Spike sat in a large, cool library in the Council’s London base. Maria removed her glasses, and bit one of its arms in a very “Giles” like fashion.

“Well, the only thing I can think of is an old gypsy curse.”

Spike sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Damn gypsies. First they get Angel, now us. So, what does that mean?”

“Oh, dear, I’m…I’m not quite sure how to word this….”

“Just spit it out, bit.”

“Uncle Spike, when was the battle you two fought against Thia, the dragon?”

Spike shrugged.

“Dunno, bit. After two hundred years, dates really lose their meaning.”

“Would you say about fifty years ago?”

“I think so,” Buffy offered.

Maria nodded.

“That’s what I was afraid of. You see, when Thia was killed, there was an imbalance left in the power structure that holds our world together…and the gypsy curse states that when a dragon as powerful as Thia is killed, its power will wait for 50 years before moving into the next most powerful being, be they good or evil. Callie is the good…and I fear our new Slayer is the evil.”

Callie’s mind wandered to all of the “good” acts she did in her fifty-year life as the Council’s “whipping girl.”

“It’s not fair that all of this is on me…I’m ridding the world of evil, and I’m all alone…can’t they just mark off my prophecy as completed?”

Maria shook her head.

“It isn’t that easy, Callie. We’re all cast a lot in life, and we have to use our gifts and make sacrifices to fulfill what we must do. The new Slayer will feed on your loneliness, Callie, she…she’s a terribly evil girl. She’s also very powerful…more powerful than I’ve ever seen a Slayer, no offence Aunt Buffy.”

“None taken,” Buffy smiled.

“She is very much like Faith had been in your time, Aunt Buffy, but Istolna has none of the redeeming humanity that eventually saved Faith from becoming truly evil. She just has a fearful amount of power and bloodlust, and a penchant for torturing her slays before killing them. If you do not defeat her, Callie, I’m afraid of what she will do with all of Thia’s power.”

“Even if she is a Slayer, I don’t think I’ll have any problem defeating her…I’ve beaten tougher foes before.”

“She is a force to be reckoned with, make no mistake about that, Callie, but she isn’t quite alone in her quest for Thia’s power either.”

“Anyone we know, bit,” Spike asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Who?”

Clearing her throat, Maria fidgeted about, unsure of how to continue.

“Well, ah…uh…Uncle Spike, its very hard to describe. It’s your Sire, Drusilla, but not…it’s…uh…it’s more complicated than that. Angelus had anticipated his death last year before you defeated him, Callie. If you recall, he spoke a few short words before you sent him back to Hell?”

Callie nodded.

“Yes, but I couldn’t understand them. I think they were Latin or something.”

Spike sighed and tossed his cigarette down on the carpet, in a huff.

"What is it with your generation, poppet? Doesn't anyone learn old languages? I mean...when I was in school...sodding...sodding everyone knew Latin."

Buffy smirked.

"And I'll bet to get to school you had to walk fifteen miles through the snow...barefoot..."

"Uphill...both ways, right Papa," Callie asked with a giggle.

"So not funny. Sodding kids and your...ways...," Spike said, as he sunk back into the chair, shaking his head.

Maria cleared her throat.

“Back to my point...they were Latin. It’s a little known spell the Council thought was destroyed long ago. It frees a vampires’ essence; its mind, memories, and personality, before death, and sends it into that vampire’s closest ‘living’ relative; Drusilla, in this case. Callie, you must be especially careful around this creature now, because if you don’t rid Drusilla of Angelus in the correct manor, his spirit could transfer into your father.”

--

Snow rushed around the small log cabin in the dark woods. Drusilla’s thin frame was covered in a tighter red leather jumpsuit she bared almost no resemblance to her ‘normal’ self. The vacant, otherworldly stare that had filled her eyes for an eternity was gone, and replaced with a cold fury. Angelus’ hold on Drusilla’s mind was beginning to destroy her already thin grasp on reality. Angelus grabbed as much firewood as Drusilla’s small frame was able to carry, and brought it into the cabin with a grumble.

A lithe, chocolate haired woman lounged on a leather sofa in the small cabin, nibbling on a forkful of boiled potatoes. She ignored Angelus as he forced Drusilla’s arms to throw more wood in the fireplace. He turned to face her, a brooding scowl plastered on Drusilla’s normally vacant face, his thick, Irish accent sounding strange coming off of Drusilla’s tongue.

“You know, you can do something other than lie there and eat.”

The woman rolled her eyes, and continued to eat.

“Aye, just roll your eyes you mute cunt.”

Before Angelus could react, the woman had swiftly lunged at him, pinning Drusilla’s frame to the wall,
uncomfortable close to the fireplace.

“Hey! Watch it! If you kill me, you’ll never get what you want.”

The woman’s eyes flashed in rage, but she dropped her hold on Drusilla’s neck, letting her frail body crash onto the floor. Angelus stood up, brushing the dust and ash off of his host’s body.

“Glad you can see reason. So, why is it you don’t talk again?”

The woman scowled in reply, emitting a low growl.

“Aye, not from a lack of vocal chords, then? It’s going to be a long night without someone to talk to.”

Angelus’ gaze wandered to the window when he noticed a slow, staggering figure cross their yard.

“Well, Istolna, it looks like I won’t be so bored after all.”

--

Buffy stared at Spike, who had his eyes closed, and his head tilted back against the seat of the airliner. He still looked strange to her with the slight tan that tinted his skin. Though it had been half a century since he had the pale vampiric glow she had been inexplicably drawn to, Buffy was often caught by surprise when she looked at Spike.

He does look good though…still sexy after all of these years.

“You know, pet, just because my eyes are closed doesn’t mean that I’m asleep.”

“Ha ha. You were just waiting for me to do that, weren’t you? That’s entrapment Mister! I should divorce you…er…is there divorce for claiming?”

“ ‘fraid not, pet. At any rate, you know you couldn’t live without all of this.”

Spike’s eyes opened languidly as he turned his head to Buffy, wagging his eyebrows at her. Rolling his tongue behind his teeth, he gently caressed her thigh with a strong, but loving, hand.

”And you know I couldn’t make it without you, pet, so don’t give me that pout.”

Buffy attempted, in vain, to hold her pseudo-angry expression, but faltered when Spike began to growl just loudly enough for her to hear.

“Now that’s not fair…where are we going to…?”

“Three steps ahead of you, Slayer.”

Spike quietly got out of his seat and made his way to the airplane’s small bathroom.

”I really am glad we took the red eye, love. Don’t think the stewardesses are even awake. Come on back.”

“Flight attendants, honey.”

“Whatever, love. Get your round little arse back here.”

Buffy made her way, silently, past Callie and the other sleeping passengers, and entered the bathroom with a mischievous grin. Her smile grew when she noticed that Spike was already up and ready for her.

“Oh, my, I must be in the wrong bathroom! Are you waiting for someone, sir?”

Buffy smiled as she expertly positioned herself at face level with Spike’s long, throbbing cock. It was all he could do not to cry out in ecstasy as she wrapped her full lips around his member. She cupped his balls in a soft hand as he gently thrust into her mouth.

“Pet, if you don’t get up here quick, I’m going to be joining the Mile High Club alone…Gods…you really are amazing at that.”

“Mmhmm…we’re just lucky that Willow gave us the spell to stop the smoke from coming every time we do…I don’t think smoke, even if it is blue, would be welcome on a plane.”

“I agree, pet; now, get up here.”

Spike grabbed her arms and pulled her mouth slowly off of his cock, setting her taut body in front of him. He turned her backside to himself before sliding her panties down her legs.

“Gods…you always need to wear skirts, pet. Did I ever tell you that?”

She laughed silently.

“Only about every time we do this in public. So…probably a good sixty thousand times.”

“And I’ll tell you the same thing the next sixty thousand.”

Spike thrust his pulsating cock into Buffy’s dripping slit. He pumped in and out of her in a desperate motion, and she could not suppress a loud moan as she clenched her vaginal muscles in a star-inducing orgasm. Though he quickly placed a silencing hand around her mouth, the damage was done. An urgent knock came at the door, and a sleepy, but strong voice seemed to scold them, as if it knew exactly what they were doing.

“Uh…is everything alright in there, Miss?”

Buffy turned her head to look at Spike in the mirror, for answers. She found him unable not only to speak, but also unable to think coherently.

“Oh Gods…Buffy! Uh…love you…uh, love you so much, pet!”

As Spike went limp on Buffy’s back, she grunted in frustration.

“No…I’m okay, thanks. Just airsickness, you know.”

“Uh huh,” came the voice. “If you’re alright now, you can head back to your seat.”

“Will do!”

Buffy frowned at Spike, who she could feel hardening inside of her again.

“Spike…”

“Oh, come on, pet…what’re they going to do? Throw us off the plane?”


As the airliner set down in a dark airport in Russia, two effeminate flight attendants were admonishing Buffy and Spike. Callie’s face looked as if it had been dipped in bright red spaghetti sauce. The color did not diminish until the group was driving their rented sedan through Russia’s cold streets.

“God! Can’t you two restrain yourselves? I mean, not that I’m unhappy that my parents really love each other, but, you’re ancient, Papa!”

“Oi! Now, that’s uncalled for, poppet,” he growled as he stared her down in the rearview mirror.

She sighed as she stretched out in the back seat.

“Will I ever be able to find anyone I can spend my life with?”

Buffy turned around to look at Callie, a motherly concern on her face.

“Honey…is that what’s been on your mind lately?”

Callie nodded.

“I just…I’ve tried dating other immortals, but it’s just…it feels wrong. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like…I’m not supposed to be with them…but I’m worried that if I’m too picky, I’ll be all alone….”

“I know, honey, I know. It took me forever to figure out what I should have known right away with your Papa. You’ll find someone, sweetie, don’t worry.”

Sighing as she laid her head down to rest, Callie’s loneliness crept back into her mind, despite her mother’s loving encouragement.

--

A tornado of chocolate hair rushed through the log cabin. Picking up various weapons from a chest in the corner of the blood-drenched living room, Istolna’s lithe form shook in agitation. The commotion had roused Angelus, who had passed out in orgasmic slumber after torturing, then eating, the unfortunate drunken man, who had stumbled onto the lawn. The man’s drained frame was still impaled on the moose antlers mounted on the wall, a look of terror still painted on his face, which hung strangely after Angelus had broken his neck. Drusilla’s shell, still possessed by Angelus, sat up, an irritated look on its face.

“And what in the hell are you doing, lass?”

Istolna’s maddened eyes and frenzied movements spoke the words she could not.

“The girl…she’s here, isn’t she? Ohhh…I knew this would be a good night.”

--

Buffy lightly shook Callie’s shoulders.

“Callie, honey? Come on, we have to get ready…we’re almost there.”

As Callie’s eyes fluttered open, she was reminded of a trip she and her mother took before Spike had returned. But, where there once was the promise of a warm sun and a day at the beach, Callie was now greeted with the promise of a battle that could consume them all. If Buffy had not instilled such a sense of pride and purpose in her ‘higher calling,’ Callie would have resented the life set before her.

It’s for the world…for me…for my parents and Maria, if no one else. They deserve to have a safe world to live in…and no Slayer or crazy Master Vampire are going to take that away from them if I have anything to do about it.

Callie forced herself to sit up and stretch, as her mother had always taught her to do before a battle she knew she was entering.

--

“Good God, it’s easier than ever to get fools to come to their deaths these days,” Angelus spouted through Drusilla’s thin lips.

Breaking into the cabin had been the easy part, Callie found. Dealing with a demented Master Vampire possessing another Master Vampire, and a mute, and equally as crazed Slayer, was more difficult, even with her parent’s support. Callie was now grateful for the mental link her parents rarely used to converse with her telepathically. She silently spoke to them, as they sat in meditation on the lawn outside, as she eyed up Istolna and Angelus/Drusilla.

“Mummy, Papa…I’m scared.”

Buffy and Spike had ceased to be one entity as they sat outside of the cabin, in meditation; their combined force and souls floated between them, its sapphire glow illuminating the dark forest. Their combined voice called out to Callie in a whispered hush, as if protecting itself from any prying minds.

“Callie…stall them as long as you can. The prophesy said that only you can defeat them and take Thia’s powers…but we’ll help you as much as we can…nothing ever said that your parents can’t do everything they can to protect you. Just give us a few minutes, poppet, and we’ll have your backup plan ready!”

Istolna and Angelus did not wait for Callie to make the first move. As Angelus lunged at her, Drusilla’s fangs and fingernails bared, Istolna took to launching small, razor-sharp throwing stars at Callie’s form. Expertly avoiding Angelus, but not so lucky to avoid all of the razors, Callie faltered slightly, and stooped on the floor, heaving.

“Callie! No!”

Angelus wiped Drusilla’s slightly bloodied mouth, and picked a throwing star out of her shoulder. A menacing chuckle escaped her lips, and Angelus’ evil glimmer flashed in Drusilla’s eyes. Said glimmer was eradicated as a blast of sapphire haze filled the room and ignited Callie’s form, turning her into the iridescent blue shade. Istolna’s eyes grew wide and the slightest noise escaped her lips as she hid behind the couch.

Angelus stood in a short-lived shock before Callie’s glowing form. Callie turned her gaze at Drusilla’s body, and, before he could react, shoved her into the fireplace. A deep shriek sounded through Drusilla’s frame, and a stark white flash exploded in the flames. Callie grabbed Drusilla’s limp, charred form from the blaze an instant after the flash vanished. Drusilla coughed as she rolled onto her feet, and stared at the fire, angrily.

“Naughty Daddy! Treacherous, bad, bad Daddy! She’s a part of my sweet William,” she said dreamily, stealing a quick glance at Callie. “Back to Hell, Daddy. And no more tea for you if you return! Miss Edith and I are very cross with you!”

Drusilla turned to Callie, smiling vacantly, and pointing toward the ceiling.

“The pixies are tricky, you know. Daddy couldn’t hear them, but they made him so naughty. I wish I could hush them.”

Callie was confused by this new persona inside of the thin woman’s body. The sapphire haze flushed around Callie’s head.

“That’s just Dru, poppet. Let her be, yeah? Don’t waste time trying to figure her out. Do what you need to, Callie, honey.”

Nodding in determination, Callie brushed past Drusilla to find Istolna shaking in fear behind the couch. Her eyes were as deep a brown as a fawn’s eyes were, and her face pale with terror. She looked like a tortured animal, and Callie shook her head before turning to walk out of the cottage, her blue pigment fading.

“I just…I can’t...not like this.”

A sharp pain shot through her back, and Callie’s scream mixed with Drusilla’s. Callie turned around to find Istolna holding Drusilla’s body down with her own, holding a stake to her heart. Callie could feel the blood trickling down her back, but ignored her own pain as she leapt across the room, diving onto Istolna. A loud ‘snap’ caused Drusilla to jump up and scream in apparent glee. Callie’s limp form rolled off of Istolna’s on the cold, wooden floor.

--

The loud snap resonated through the fields surrounding the cabin. Buffy’s eyes looked as if they were about to burst as she and Spike crashed into the building. Istolna’s body lay limp on the floor, her neck hanging in a strange position. Buffy looked at Spike imploringly.

“Her neck’s snapped, pet….”

“But…Callie….”

Drusilla sat on the floor, cradling Callie’s limp form, and rocking her back and forth. Spike sobbed loudly.

“Oh God…no…”

“Shh,” Drusilla hushed, “the faerie magic is working. It’s very rude to interrupt them, my poor, sweet William.”

Before Spike or Buffy could speak, Callie stirred in Drusilla’s arms. Drusilla smiled, her eyes twinkling.

“Shh…more magic, dears, they have to finish.”

As Drusilla’s words poured lyrically out of her lips, Callie’s body became rigid and began to glow in an entrancing golden hue.

“Cal…,” Buffy started.

Drusilla held an imploring finger to her lips, silencing her once mortal enemy. Callie’s body rose off the ground, the golden hue pulsating with her heartbeat, for slightly under a minute, before she slowly lowered back onto the floor. When her eyes opened, they were no longer blue, but shone in the deep, golden hue she had just been consumed by.

--


Drusilla had taken to speaking to the threading on the couch cushions after Callie was revived enough to sit up. Spike searched her back for the wound left by Istolna’s dagger, but could find nothing.

“Poppet…Callie, sweetheart, can you hear me? Can you talk?”

“Yes, Papa, I’m fine,” Callie replied in an unusually musical tone.

Callie jumped back at the sound of her voice, and Buffy’s mouth hung agape.

“Callie, honey, your voice it’s…it’s….”

” ‘s the most beautiful thing we’ve ever heard, poppet.”

Spike enveloped Callie in a tight squeeze before helping her onto her feet. A familiar cloud of smoke burst into the room. Anya, Joyce, and Tara stood in a half-circle before the immortal family. Anya sneered at Drusilla.

“Wow, she really is nuts, isn’t she, Spike? You sure know how to pick ‘em.”

Joyce frowned at her.

“Oh, Anya, hush. Buffy, honey, are you alright?”

Buffy blushed and turned to her mother, keeping Callie in her peripheral vision.

“I’m fine Mom…what happened to Callie?”

“Well, the prophesy of course.”

Tara bowed her head in reverence.

“It has been completed.”

Anya sighed and looked around the room.

“And in the most dank of conditions, too. Geez, first Sunnydale, now this podunk little town in Russia. Why can’t big things happen in nicer cities? Oooooh, like Orlando?”

“Anya, we all know about the curse over Orlando. It’s nice to think about it, but you know full well that no demon can go there until they’re hired,” Tara said.

Callie stared at her powerful and otherworldly reflection in the window.

“What’s happened to me?”

Anya ginned and clapped her hands together.

“Oh! Thia’s powers! They’re already in effect! Great! Well, Callie, you should start to feel different, invincible, as it were.”

“I already do.”

“Oh, good, then. So, when all of Thia’s powers kick in, you’ll be able to control them better, your voice is an example. Right now, it can charm the pants off of anyone…literally. Well, not with Buffy and Spike or us, because they’re your parents, and we’re just specters, so we just hear a beautiful melody, but to men…well, it used to be called the ‘Siren’s curse,’ it works on men for the most part, but you can effect women on a smaller scale to do your bidding, too. But I think being able to control men is a blessing. They’ve been controlling women for ages; it’s time for us now.”

Spike cleared his throat.

“So her powers?”

“Right. Well, along with the ‘Siren’s curse,’ comes another gift. You can give immortality to your true love, Callie.”

Callie’s golden eyes gushed with tears.

“What?”

“Your true love. If and when you find him, or her,” she said looking at Tara. “You can give them the gift of immortality.”

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch…but, you can only do it once, so you’ve got to be super-careful and be really sure of this guy.”

“Or girl,” Tara offered.

Callie smiled, wiping the tears from her eyes.

“I’m not a lesbian, but that’s good to know, Aunt Tara.”

Anya flicked her wrist, signaling quiet.

“Right, right, but besides all this stuff, your normal powers have increased ten-fold. Callie, you’re the most powerful being on the planet. Use that power for good, Callie, and maybe this world won’t be so lost after all.”

As the smoke billowed around her family, Callie smiled, looking first to Buffy and Spike, who were now locked in a loving embrace, and then back to her reflection.

“I will.”

--

THE END!!!!