---

one

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It all comes down to the First.

Her turning is the direct result of that fucktard’s manipulation of her Sire.

Actually... she prefers things this way.

She’s happy, for once – happy, and confident, and stronger and prouder. She’s magnificent – as delicate and beautiful as spun sugar, yet as violent and deadly as a black widow spider. She is the stuff of legends made real, and the world would be wise to cower at her feet.

They -- it -- The First (or whatever) had thought that by getting Spike to turn the active Slayer, by making her become that which she most hated, that she would be driven insane and destroy herself. Then what would stand in the way of Complete, Undiluted Evil taking over the world?

It hadn't anticipated that she would embrace it. That her natural lust for the hunt would broaden and make itself better known through the eyes of the demon she hunted.

Simply put? The First fucked up.

Oddly enough, like her Sire, she retains everything from before – her level of actual physical humanity has, of course, diminished, but her personality traits, the way she thinks, the people she cares for – it’s all still there. She’s just a lot more bloodthirsty. She even recently admitted to her Sire that she was endlessly turned on by the kill – the hunt, the showdown, whether it was him she was watching, or her that was partaking in the beat down – the result was always the same.

She gets hot.

Her physical traits have not altered either. She is still small and blonde, and she plays up the stereotype that comes with the look. People the world over look at people like her and dismiss her as a non-entity. She’s just a little girl, she’s just a SoCal blonde, she’s not a threat, I could break her in half.

Always make the enemy underestimate you. Her Sire has taught her this lesson, and she has learned it and used it well. When the enemy underestimates you, the odds are in your favor.

Even more fortunate for her, her Sire is one of the most powerful beings on earth – not just physically, but intellectually – and had wanted her to be more powerful as well. Unlike her last dalliance with a muscle-bound meathead of a clone to her first love, an empowered woman who is physically more powerful than Spike is becomes a colossal turn-on. The original essence of her blood, combined with the legendary essence that she drank from the intimate cradle of his neck has made her a true force to be reckoned with.

Naturally, her Sire finds it incredibly arousing, as stated before, and never hesitates to find a moment in which to show her – repeatedly – what it does to him.

The natural give-and-take flow of their relationship, the inherent sharing between two of their line, ensures that she is not the one with all of the power – he has his own fair share. That ancient power that still lies in her blood and body is constantly switched over to him with a single sip from her neck, and as a result, he tends to be even more destructive than he usually is. And their sex life?

Knocking down a building can’t even compare anymore.

Anya and Dawn are the only ones who know about the difference in the Slayer’s diet. Dawn because she had accidentally walked in on Buffy just as her newly-turned sister had lunged for Spike’s neck, and Anya because they needed someone they trusted – not Willow – to hide the obviousness of a vampy Slayer from the rest of the group. Anya hadn’t been alive for over eleven hundred years without being practiced in at least some magical arts. Glamours, shields, and notice-me-nots – the vengeance demon has even managed to find a way to screen Buffy’s deadness from the Council’s radar.

What was left of them, anyway.

Plus, it helped that some natural vampire deficiencies had gone wonky with her turning. She could walk in sunlight for one. The glamour Anya had cast – fifty times more powerful and effective than anything Willow could cast – simulated a heartbeat and pulse, as well as the warm flush of blood against skin. Advantages included not being found out as a literal Vampire Slayer and being staked without mercy by your “friends.” Disadvantages… well, the charm had to be renewed every two weeks, but that in itself was more of an advantage than anything anyway.

Why had they considered Willow such an all-powerful witch again?

Buffy had also officially laid down the law with Xander and Giles – she was Spike’s, Spike was hers, if anyone had anything bad to say about it, human or not, they would see the business end of Mr. Pointy the 503rd©. At Xander’s first outburst despite the warning, Buffy’s eyes had flashed and within two shakes of a lamb’s tail – or at least, two blinks of Dawn’s eyelashes – he had been on the table with Buffy’s hand gripped tightly around his throat. She hadn’t choked him – he was Xander, after all, she had still known him since she was sixteen – but she had made the point incredibly clear to both her Glorified Bricklayer and her stuffy Watcher. Insult my sanity, insult me, insult or hurt Spike, and you die.

Xander let his grudge go pretty quickly after that, although she can still see his petulance every once in a while when he glances at the blonde vampire. Giles still gives her and Spike pained, disappointed looks every time he glances their way, but she ignores him.

She misses Tara badly these days. The blonde witch would have had a few right choice words to say to the group about their attitudes – particularly Willow, who seems to believe that there is some part of the Buffy and Spike relationship that is her fault, something that Xander seems keen on believing as well.

She also misses Tara because Tara was the first one to even know of the potential of a Buffy/Spike relationship.

If Slayers – or vampires… or Slayer-ish Vampires – had the power to raise the dead, Tara would be the first one out of the ground. Unless she was in Heaven, which she probably was. In which case, Buffy would leave her body alone. If she could just figure out that summoning spirits thingy that they did on Charmed that let the Halliwell matriarchs come back for all the guest shots...

Regardless of the new vampy-ness of her, Buffy still rises to the occasion and slays. And her poor Sire still has spacey moments when the First Evil tries to sink her – his – its? – claws in. And then, there’s the complete moronic-ness of that little “villain” Andrew, and the way-too-gung-ho-for-slaying deal of Principal Robin Wood. Turns out, his mom was a Slayer. And a vampire (surprise!) killed his mom.

Is there seriously a problem here?

Nikki Wood died a warrior’s death – she was killed fighting the very creature she’d been trained all her life to fight. A Slayer wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Besides, if Nikki hadn’t died, where would Buffy be now? Not Chosen, probably – most certainly not spending those enjoyable nights bouncing on her darling Spike’s cock.

The First Evil’s hold on her man’s mind is really starting to piss her off. She wishes for a way to make It corporeal so that she can tear it limb from limb. Also, the possessing of familiar dead forms thing was really freaky – she didn’t think she’d handle it as well as Dawn did when the thing had appeared to her as Mom.

As it was, Buffy had to settle for tearing apart the First’s minions – the Bringers – before they could get a hold of the Council’s Potentials. The Potentials that Giles was currently rounding up and shifting into Buffy’s house.

That was kind of pissing her off, too. Giles still owned the bungalow he’d lived in before he’d moved back to England, why couldn’t he just throw the girls in there? Better yet, couldn’t Xander take some of them to his apartment? Just because Buffy owned an actual house that had room and stuff, why did that mean she had to play host?

After dealing with nothing but whiny, chatty girls – and Kennedy, who was destined to hit rock-bottom following a colossal power trip (and who had a way-too-obvious Willow-obsession) – for three straight weeks, Buffy had been fed up. She’d packed up her things, as well as Spike’s and Dawn’s, and they’d taken over the abandoned house down the road.

It's not like the owners are coming back for it. They sure as hell had left in a hurry.

Bonus points? It's far enough away that the rest of the Scoobies won't take over it, but close enough that they can still talk shop.

Now if they could just figure out how the hell The First was controlling her boyfriend, Buffy would have it made.


End Part 1

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two

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Kind of annoying to find out that someone you think is your friend is actually an asshole with a vendetta against your boyfriend just because said boyfriend happened to do what was in his nature.

Okay, so Nikki Wood, Principal Wood's mom? Happened to be the same Nikki Wood that had been killed by Spike.

Fine, so Buffy wasn't too bright all of the time. How was she supposed to put two and two together without getting all the details?

She's gotta say, though -- she's kind of upset that she has yet another name to add to the "Touch My Mate And You Die a Bloody, Bloody Death" list.

At least her guy isn't under Evil Wonky First Influence anymore.

And go figure, Xander was the one to figure it out -- The First had placed a trigger on Spike. In this case, it had been a song, or rather, the memory of the song that Spike's mother had used to sing to him when he had been alive.

Had she still been human, Buffy's stomach would churn at the thought of what Spike had done - he'd killed his mother. She'd thought he was different, that he wasn't like the other soul-filled vampire, the one who had murdered his parents and his innocent little sister in cold blood. A part of her -- the Slayer part -- still felt nauseated at the thought.

And then he explained to her why he'd done it. And suddenly, all of her understood -- the part of her that was still the Slayer, the part of her that was still sort of human, and the part of her that was his beloved Childe -- she completely understood.

He'd done it to save her. Even as a vampire, even with the Aurelius demon inside of him, even with his insane new Sire by his side whispering words of deviousness and debauchery in his ear, Spike had still loved his mother with everything in him and the first thing he'd tried to do had been to save her.

It wasn't his fault that the Aurelius demon had eaten Anne's kindness alive.

She still doesn't understand her Sire sometimes. What is it that is so different about him? How is it that in the presence of three other psychos, he comes out the sane one? Did Dru screw up the turning?

Or maybe Spike had just been born for this? Maybe, just maybe, he's had a touch of destiny about him all along. Maybe the Powers knew it.

Gods, but she loves her mate. And now that her friends and Watcher aren't holding her fear over her head, she feels free to express it to him anytime and every time he comes into her vicinity. Namely by pouncing him until she's babbling it over and over again in an endless, ecstatic litany.

She still thinks it's utterly adorable the way he gets huffy when she calls him anything but Spike. It's been reduced to token protests ever since she told him that the name William makes her feel all warm and gooey inside, though. She's taken the opportunity since then to find out what his last name is, who his parents were, when his birthday was, and if he had any siblings. She's had to pull out the heavy artillery for those, and at one point, she hadn't been able to walk straight for two days, but it was so worth it to finally know who her man was and where he came from.

He was William Chase Gareth Pratt, born October 22, 1854 in Kent, England to loving parents Gareth Elijah Pratt and Anne Davis MacClay, older brother to one Charlotte Aileen Madalyn Pratt (better known as Lottie); died on October 14, 1880, just over a week shy of his 26th birthday.

Spike had told her that after moving to London in 1865 (when he was eleven and Lottie was six), Gareth Pratt had died from the cholera epidemic just a year later, leaving his small family in comfortable care from the wealth of his estates. Most of the money had gone to William's education at Cambridge, and the rest to Charlotte's dowry when she married at age twenty. Anne had died -- not from the consumption she'd contracted in 1879, but from William's bite after he had been turned by Drusilla. After he'd had to stake his mother, he'd delved into all the leftover funds that had remained and split it up accordingly -- half was set in the bank to accumulate money for nearly a century and a half, and the other half was sent to his darling younger sister in Bath to care for her new family following the death of her old one.

Buffy has never been so fascinated with history before -- maybe because instead of listening to boring blah blah blah history in school, she was listening to the history of the man she loved? Large possibility.

Not to mention, it was dead sexy seeing him wear those cute little glasses that he thought she hadn't known about. She constantly makes him wear them when they make love. Something about it -- just like everything else about him -- turns her on.

Hence her current position on top of him.

She writhes just a fraction, and he groans, the lamplight bouncing of the glint of gold wire, his blonde hair curling finely into delicious little spirals. Her right hand steadies itself on his stomach as her hips gyrate against his, and he arches his back, lifting his hips to meet hers at every thrust downward that she makes. The sensations travel all the way from the tips of her fingers to her very toes, and she bounces vigorously, shaking her gold mane out wildly. Spike's hands lunge for her bottom and he lifts and lowers her on his cock as his palms rub and squeeze the fleshy globes. As much as Buffy wants to playfully torture him with pleasure, she knows full well that his impatience will appear soon enough, and she stretches herself over him, breasts rubbing against the firm muscles in his chest, her clit grinding against his flat abdomen. She picks up the pace and as the heat and desire well up inside of her to a white hot, blinding release, she says the one thing that is guaranteed to make him explode.

"I love you, William."

Sure enough, the house rattles from the roar he gives as his entire body bows from the force of his orgasm, and she yelps when his strong hands force her body down against him, thereby setting off her own release.

When she begins coming out of the daze, she notices that she can hear her little sister let out a scream of disgust in response to the animal noises heard through the thin walls of the new house. She chuckles sheepishly as her lover begins snickering unconsciously. He's still kind of out of it, his bright blue eyes glassy beneath the lens of his spectacles, and she lightly peppers kisses along his jaw and neck, bringing him back to awareness.

"It's weird how intense this can be, even when there's no bitey," she murmurs, nuzzling her favorite haven on his body, the crook of his neck where she'd first laid her mating claim on him.

"It was intense long before the bitey, m'love," he purrs in response, nuzzling his chin against her forehead.

She smiles giddily. "Agreed."

This is how it is between them. They had come a long way from the pure violence of their relationship when Buffy had first come back from the grave. Spike takes great pleasure in throwing his knowledge of her feelings into her face every chance he gets. She can't count how many times he has said to her, "All along. You loved me, and I was right all along, and you were wrong. YOU were the one in denial!" And she also can't count how many times she has had to placate him by saying, "Yes, you were right, I was wrong, I wanted you and loved you all along. Can we hop topics now?"

Just because Spike has insight on what goes on in her head, it didn't necessarily give him the right to gloat about it endlessly. She has to put a stop to it sometimes.

They have an evil ultimate spirit and a misogynistic power-happy priest on their tails, after all.

Not to mention the two-faced principal that has already tried to kill Spike.

Days later, it is with shock that she and Spike converse with Giles about the situation. Supposedly, Wood attempted to recruit Giles to his cause -- and Giles had been tempted. But he'd also noticed how much stronger and resourceful Buffy was now with Spike by her side (barring the fact that Giles didn't know about her little case of vampirism), and that the bleach-blond vampire with a soul that could not be lost made her happy. In a moment of clarity, Giles refused the principal in defense of his former ward's happiness. Wood had carried on with his "plan" anyway.

Buffy is happy that at least when push comes to shove, she can still trust her old Watcher. He's still like a father to her, and he may not like her choices, but she is, after all, old enough to make them, and Giles respects that. He even respects Spike -- a fact he tells the blond couple with much cringing when Spike stares at him confoundedly. "Wood pushed Spike to retaliate," the Watcher explains. "Wood used Spike's trigger against him, and forced him to fight back. Spike was well within rights to kill. The trigger had been activated - no one would have been surprised if Wood had not come out of the altercation alive." Giles shrugs. "Instead, Spike overcame the trigger. He gave Wood a warning, then walked out leaving alive someone who had actively tried to kill him. It was... impressive. To say the least."

When they get up, preparing to leave 1630 Revello Drive, Giles asks them to return to the house. He says that Willow is now officially involved with the loud-mouthed Kennedy and that they have taken over the empty house next door, that Xander has decided to stay in his apartment rather than Joyce's house, and that Giles can even make arrangements for himself and the rest of the SITs to find lodgings in one of the many other abandoned houses or hotels around Sunnydale. Buffy, Spike, Dawn and Anya are more than welcome to return and reclaim the property as their own.

Buffy and Spike look at each other and smile, but politely decline Giles' offer. This house belonged to Buffy's mother -- it is a house that holds many memories for the Vampire Slayer, and she is pleased to have called it home for so long. But she has a home and a family of her own now. Okay, so she doesn't really own her new home, and her family is an odd mish-mosh of people who aren't really people, including herself, but still. Let her mother's house have life in it for however long it can. Buffy would never have stayed there much longer, anyway.

Spike has promised her the world, after all. And with a younger sister with untapped powers that can open dimensions, and a vengeance demon that can teleport anywhere at any time, the idea is becoming more and more... genuine every day.



End part 2

The Girl With Kaleidoscope Eyes

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three

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The priest is really pissing her off big time now.

He's attacked a girl -- a Potential that came to Sunnydale to seek safe haven with Buffy. That bastard has branded the girl. Shannon, her name is. She's sustaining injuries that coincide with multiple things -- a mugging, and a car accident. The brand on her neck, the wound in her belly, the fact that she seems to have taken a tumble from a car...

Buffy knows better. The priest did it. This Caleb fucker burned Shannon. Burned her, and stabbed her, and then threw her from a car. He's hurt someone who was coming to her for protection. And he'll pay for that alone.

Poor Shannon is lying in the hospital from injuries, and Buffy has to go see her, has to talk to her, only Willow says she doesn't need to right then because the red-haired witch is staying with the girl while... the other comes here. This only means that Buffy has to leave the house to see Shannon even more, to talk with the girl more, to --

Buffy's eyes narrow as she once again zeros in on the one face that she wishes she didn't have to see.

Have to take Spike WITH me, she thinks.

Supposedly something big is going down in Los Angeles. Her ex's team has even gone so far as to busting the bitch out of jail.

Did Willow really need to bring her back here, though?

Once bitten, twice shy was the saying. Well, Faith has bitten Buffy quite a few times over the years. Near-deaths, murders, plots for world domination, and, oh yeah, macking on Buffy's boyfriends. Not to mention the fact that Faith attacked Spike out of no where in that damn cemetery... Well, okay, not no where, Buffy's mind reluctantly complies. After all, she didn't know that Spike was all with the soul having... She doesn't know how he's changed.

So perhaps Buffy is being a little prejudiced in her opinion of Faith. After all, she hasn't seen the other Slayer for almost three years, and Faith's been in jail that entire time. Maybe things were different, maybe Faith was a better person now.

But then Buffy saw Faith eying Spike after his new White Hat status had been made clear.

And maybe Faith wasn't a murdering, lying, life-stealing bitch, but despite the fact that it was glaringly clear how much of an item Buffy and Spike were, it didn't seem like the boyfriend stealing aspect had gone anywhere.

Ergo, fear of jail-free bitch macking on Spike, ergo Spike not being left even twenty feet in the general vicinity of Faith.

Not this fucking time.

She trusts Spike with everything that she is, with her own life -- Faith is going to have to work a hell of a lot harder to gain that trust that she flushed down the drain the minute she murdered the Deputy Mayor and boarded Mayor Wilkins' evil "I Wanna Rule The World" party train.

Okay, so she can be a grown-up -- so maybe they can use the extra help, what with all that's coming. But if Faith doesn't keep those grabby, cigarette smoking hands of hers the hell away from Spike, the world will once again be down to only one Chosen One. Maybe.

It's kind of hard to focus on specifics. Especially since Buffy isn't technically a Chosen One anymore.

It's because of Faith, though, that Buffy has been busy occupying Spike in their bedroom for the past eight hours.

"Fuck... oh fuck, right there. Yes, yes, oh bloody... Buffy, love, I... fuck, PLEASE!"

Spike's warbling is shaking the rafters down, he's so loud. Buffy smiles happily around his cock, sucking and licking like a woman starved, before pulling off and tilting her head down to taste the skin of his sac. His hips jerk upwards and he yelps loudly as she sucks one of his balls into her mouth, biting at the sensitive skin and worrying at the mark she's made.

Of all the marks that Buffy has placed on his body, Spike is the proudest of the hickey she's giving him now. Ironically, it's the one mark that he can't display in decent company, especially with his soul. They live with Buffy's baby sister, after all.

When she finally dives down on him once again, he blatantly roars out his pleasure, his hips thrusting upwards into her mouth desperately as she drinks him down. And when that silly, glazed look is gone from his eyes, he looks up at her, smiles, and flips her over, kissing her lips as he slides home inside of her.

Even now, in full-on Scooby company, Buffy smiles at the memory from last night. And because teasing Spike into arousal is tantamount to pure ecstasy -- or will at least lead to it -- she deliberately stares at his crotch, licking her lips.

Spike's body -- and the specific appendage she's directing her gaze at -- begins to twitch uncomfortably.

This brings her great joy.

Meanwhile, Andrew is running around wearing an apron and oven mitts and being a general nuisance whether or not he's actually trying to be. Willow is sitting practically on top of Kennedy's lap, they're so close. To add to Buffy's disgust with her "best friend," Kennedy's tongue -- and subsequently, her tongue ring -- seem to be getting very familiar with the witch's ear.

God, she hopes that she and Spike don't act as revolting as that in public. In private, even.

Xander is secluding himself in the corner of the room, alternately pouting about being ignored, glaring hatefully at Spike's presence in the room, and gazing longingly at Anya, who sits primly next to Buffy, firmly pretending that Xander's existence is just a sham.

Giles is doing his usual walk-and-pace routine, complete with lecture mode, and the now-dozens of potential slayers swarming the interior of Joyce Summers' house sit in various spots around the room, looking either eager and attentive, or tired and bored.

The whole point of this meeting is for Giles to remind everyone what evil psychotic bastards the First Evil's harbingers are and not to go near a man wearing a priest's uniform and spouting misogynistic views of women. He also reminds everyone to keep poking each other if suspicions overwhelm them and they believe the person next to them is not a person at all, and to stay away from anything that looks like a giant, blood starved, leather wearing, bat faced vampire.

So, the usual.

At least until Buffy informs everyone of Caleb's message, via Shannon's poor abused body.

So the loony, masochistic preacher has something that belongs to her, does he?

He's gonna wish he didn't.

It's with this gung-ho mindset that the Slayer takes her little army out for the mission later this night. Gathered intelligence informs Buffy that Preacher Man is holed up underground, somewhere at the Vineyard.

Everything will be fine, so long as she keeps Spike from sampling the wine.

Well... at least during the fight. She might let him bring some home tonight. Fighting always gets her randy, and since her tolerance for alcohol is practically non-existent -- even as a vampire -- it might be fun playing Drunk College Girl to Spike's Older Professor.

Arriving at the Vineyard is rather anticlimactic. Buffy has underestimated what she and Spike's combined strength can do now -- the eight Bringers that had been guarding the gate are all eviscerated in under three minutes.

She almost smirks at the looks of shock and envy from Willow, and the "Holy Shit" of awe and respect from Faith. That's right, bitches. I'm the strongest. THAT'S why I'm in charge.

To her right, Spike chuckles in dark amusement at her thoughts. To her left, Dawn snorts. Then, Buffy really does smirk.

Why is it that whenever Buffy has an enemy, they must always believe that they are the be-all-end-all of the world? Why do they always think that they can end the Slayer?

This Caleb guy is a real tool.

When he sends Bringers at them, he has a strangely satisfied look on his face -- until the entire crew decimates them. He looks a little more nervous then, but tries to hide it. And he actually does a pretty decent job, but Buffy can still see it because Spike has been teaching her to read people. It is a split second change in Caleb's facial expression, but the Slayer still notices it. When the preacher attacks, Buffy and Spike immediately attempt to capitalize.

She notices that the man's stance is almost... protective as he lumbers toward her mate. Curious as to why, she looks past him to see an old barrel of wine on the floor, almost haphazardly shoved in the corner... and below it, the square cut and metal hinges of a trap door. An evil smile twists her lips, and she glances quickly at Spike. He glances back at her, and her smile widens when he instantly understands her unspoken message and smiles back.

Divide and conquer.

The preacher doesn't seem to realize how strong Spike actually is, but it doesn't stop him from landing a punch to the vampire's jaw when he's distracted and sending him head over tail into the wall. Buffy snarls furiously and attacks him from behind, punching the back of his head and sending him straight into Faith as Spike picks himself up from the ground. Buffy glances away from Caleb to Faith, narrowing her eyes with the message and, like Spike, the younger Slayer understands instantly.

Faith eagerly throws herself into the melee, tossing punches and kicks with wild abandon, and suddenly, Buffy and Faith are cooperating in tandem, each punch precise, each move calculated, each step a study in art. And when Spike returns to the fray, the three of them seem to form some sort of wild, mystifying tribal dance, every move from every one of them complementing and completing the other.

More Bringers swarm from the many corridors of the Vineyard, shocking the younger warriors into battle. The ones who are attacking the Bringers attempt to emulate the trio who are attacking the preacher. Dawn, Willow, Kennedy, Anya, Xander and Giles watch the two Slayers and the Master Vampire in amazement and, yes, jealousy. Determined to throw in her assistance in any way that she can, Willow throws herself into a trance, her girlfriend automatically placing herself with crossbow in hand to cover the redhead from any oncoming attack. A beam of white light begins to form between the witch's hands, and they begin to shake from the sheer power that she holds in her palms. Anya sees this and with a roll of her eyes and a mutter of "Stupid witches,", she places her hands on the redhead's shoulders, closing her eyes and chanting in order to ground the witch properly.

Buffy glances at Spike and Faith, a gleeful smile flaring across her face from the utter joy of battle. Bringers are flying over their heads, punches are being thrown left and right, and Buffy, Faith and Spike have been thrown around quite a few times themselves. Preacher Man is strong, and it becomes clear when he glances at the "accept no substitutions" Slayer with solid, shining black eyes that the First Evil has obviously imbued him with its power. Caleb, however, is so confident that his strength will prevail that he doesn't quite realize that the trio are playing with him as they maneuver him into the position they want -- over the trap door. Just three more steps before Spike's foot is over the door; just three more steps before they can punch a hole through it and jump down.

A brilliant white blast of light explodes in front of them, and the four of them scream, Buffy, Spike and Caleb from the pain, and Faith from the sheer fright.

The preacher recovers first and before Buffy realizes what's happening, there's a stake in his hand, and he's aiming for Spike's heart.

A tremendous snarl rips the air and Buffy lunges at the man, just as the stake makes contact with Spike's skin. Too fearful to see what has been done to her mate and knowing at the same time that she would be in absolute agony if Caleb had succeeded, Buffy tumbles herself over the preacher until they reach the trap door, pummeling him savagely until he's limp with exhaustion and can no longer fight her off.

It's when Faith gives a loud gasp that Buffy suddenly realizes that, in her fear for Spike's life, Anya's glamour has dropped. She's been found out. Buffy slowly, worriedly, looks over at Faith, her violet eyes shining, and the dull light from the wall sconces glinting off of her tiny fangs. The younger Slayer glances over her shoulder at the rest of the group, who are still fighting off the remnants of Caleb's Bringers, then glances back at Buffy, biting her lower lip. At the look of utter panic on the older Slayer's face, Faith's eyes suddenly soften and she smiles.

Buffy's shoulders drop in relief. Faith will come through. She smiles back and shakes her fangs off, then looks around for Spike, who is leaning against the wall with a diagonal tear through his shirt, watching the two with a grin. "And you were worried about her," he chuckles.

Buffy scowls. "Shut up and help me," she orders.

Turns out, Caleb does have something of hers. Something that belongs to the Slayer at any rate, that he's been trying to pull out of a giant rock himself.

Buffy smirks as Spike and Faith hold the preacher's limp body up, allowing him to watch as she pulls it from the stone with ease, like her very own personal Excalibur.

Her body shudders with pleasure from the pure phenomenal power of her ax thingy and the combination of Caleb's utter terror as she walks toward him, blade drawn.

A splatter of black blood soaks the earth a second later.

Spike walks up the stairs from the cellar, arm proudly looped around Buffy's waist, the silver and red ax resting on the older Slayer's shoulder and Faith following with an equally proud smile.

The only people who notice that Buffy's glamour has gone down are Anya and Dawn, who slip away from the rest of the group quickly in order to raise the shield again. No one else is aware of it -- they're too entertained by watching Giles' fury at Willow for having put Buffy, Spike and Faith in danger with what he sees as her attempt to get attention.

Oh. So that's what that white light was. Looks like Will's Ball of Sunshine spell still has a few defects.



End Part 3

The Girl With Kaleidoscope Eyes

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four

---

Trust the ex love of her life to come storming into town, thinking he's the hero of the picture.

With the reject from the Liz Taylor Collection, even.

It's all Buffy can do to stop Spike from tearing Angel's throat out, particularly when the rat barges unannounced into their interrogation with a demon and kills the First's little Minion of Doom just as he was about to speak.

She may have kept Spike from getting a shot in, but as soon as Angel opens his mouth and starts smack-talking her mate, Buffy flies off the handle and clubs him in the head and groin.

Angel actually looks pretty funny when he's holding his crotch in pain.

Spike thinks so, at least. He couldn't stop laughing for five minutes straight, and Buffy was hard pressed to keep from bursting into contagious giggles as well.

Anya's spells prove their worth, as Angel (when he's recovered) does not even notice that something is amiss with Buffy. Like the fact that her heart doesn't actually beat anymore. Buffy pulls Anya into the kitchen and hugs her in thanks for this later on. The vengeance demon skips out of the room, pleased with herself and cursing Xander for ever telling her that her knowledge of demons and spells couldn't be useful in the here and now. What did that idiot know, anyway? He was normal.

Buffy still ponders her reaction to Angel's sudden, unwanted reentry into her life with amazement. Recalling years past, she shakes her head when she remembers how excited and happy and awestruck she was whenever he was around... barring the fact that he usually returned at times in her life when the shit was well and truly about to hit the fan. Now that she's Spike's childe, and she and Spike are in love and mated, any blinders that she may have still had in regards to her one-time lover (one time being literal here) have been torn off and burned into non-existence. She can see Angel clearly now for the first time in years.

He's kind of a dickhead.

Insanely manipulative, too. As a matter of fact, when his hysterical laughter to the idea of Buffy and Spike being together is met with blank stares all around, he begins to hyperventilate, despite his severe aversion to doing anything human-like, especially his lack of need for air. Following that is denial. And then comes the angry hissy-fitting like a whiny bitch.

Buffy's eyes are shutting from boredom by the time he finally makes it around to sad puppy dog eyes. "But Buffy, I thought we were going to be together! I was waiting for the right time to tell you... but I'm going to be human again one day. I'll be human, and then I can be with you again! Don't you want that?"

Maybe it's cruel to reply the way she does, but the minute he stops talking, she starts laughing and sputters out, "Not really!"

But he isn't getting the picture. His head is a lot harder than she remembers it being.

She and Spike confer in the kitchen and decide that enough is absolutely enough. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and they need to take action to make this big, lumbersome dickhead get the message and back the hell off.

Serious action.

"Oh, god. Fuck...fuck... ungh, fuck! Oh, god, yes, Spike!" she shrieks. Spike gives a dark chuckle and his head falls backwards as he voraciously pumps his hard cock into her. His hands are everywhere, alternating between raking through her wild, loose hair, pressing her face down against the stone of the sarcophagus that she is wantonly bent over, rubbing them over her ass and cupping and fondling her breasts.

It hadn't taken much for them to decide what would truly piss Angel off enough that he would finally get the picture and leave them the hell alone. Earlier at Revello Drive, Buffy had told Anya loudly that she and Spike would be patrolling in Restfield, then had given her friend and confidante an evil grin and a wink when Angel's giant forehead had poked through the doorway. The vengeance demon had laughed and waved the blonde duo off, encouraging them to do anything and everything that she would do.

Buffy managed to convince Spike to do a real patrol before they went ahead with their plan. Surprisingly, he agreed with it, but Buffy realizes later that it's because Spike has planned to hold her hostage for a short time and fuck her completely mindless in the remnants of his old crypt.

Until now, they've been running circles around Sunnydale and retracing their steps over and over again to confuse Angel. And Buffy senses the exact moment that he finally catches up to them, when the dumbass finally sees what his grandchilde is doing to Buffy's very willing body, and what everyone has been trying to tell him for the past hour of his unwanted visit.

Spike is enjoying this probably a lot more than he should, not that it really matters to her. She hears Angel's theatrical gasp of horror, and even the enraged grinding of his teeth, but the kicker is when she tilts her neck against Spike's lips, and his fangs sink fluidly into her skin. And as she laughs and moans with delirious joy in her release -- and in Spike's too, since he subsequently follows -- she hears Angel's roar of despair and thinks that maybe, just maybe, she has finally gotten through to the lunkhead.

Sadly, it seems that Angel really is as dumb as he looks. When she and Spike return to Revello Drive, the entire house is up in arms because of the big, brooding, jealous maniac. He's screaming his version of events at anyone who will look at him twice (and stands still long enough), and Dawn is screaming bloody murder right back at him. Xander is in the corner, doubled over in hysterical laughter, and Willow (who seems to have come back to the planet Earth sometime after the Let's Make a Buffy, Spike and Faith flambé! debacle) looks unsure, frightened and eager all at once -- almost like how she used to look when Buffy had actually first been interested in Angel.

Well, whatever. At least she isn't glued up Kennedy's ass anymore, as revolting as the thought of Kennedy is in general.

Giles and Anya, along with Faith, all have looks on their faces that point very tellingly towards the idea that they have only let Angel flap his jaw as long as he has so that they can watch the resulting fireworks upon Buffy and Spike's arrival. By the lack of complete and utter chaos in the house, it seems that they've also confined the mini Slayers to other, out of the way places for this confrontation. The absence of Rona and Molly making a head-long charge at Angel with stakes are dead giveaways.

Angel rushes for them the minute he sees her, and isn't this just typical of him? He'd rather confront them about their relationship in front of Buffy's loved ones and look like the wounded party rather than speaking like a mature, pragmatic adult in private. And all for the chance to hopefully humiliate and enrage her mate and regain some sort of modicum of respect in the Scoobies' eyes.

What exactly did he think she was going to do? Fall into his arms and dismiss her Sire and love as a non-entity?

Moron.

"It's a spell, Buffy, he's got some sort of spell on you! You have to listen to me!" he blathers on, and on, and blah, blah, blah, and it's all stuff that she's heard before, often times things that she herself may have said. At least until her hand somehow finds its way from around Spike's waist to around Angel's throat. Everything and everyone in the room comes to a standstill as Buffy slowly lifts Angel clear off of his feet, solely by the grip on his neck, before slamming him into the wall and exhibiting more of her strength than she's shown anyone besides Spike, and all of this with a pleasant smile on her face. It widens at Faith's softly spoken, "Holy shit..." and the effect that this smile has on Angel evidently makes him terrified if the way his eyes widen is anything to go by.

Just wait until he finds out what she's become.

"Listen, Angel," she begins, in her best Don't Cross Me voice, which coincidentally sounded a lot like her Homicidal Valley Girl voice. The grin never leaves her face, and Spike never leaves his place next to her, an identical smirk crossing his lips. "I'm going to say this only once. I really don't care to repeat myself, and I get pretty cranky when I have to, so make sure to take that cotton stuffing out of your ears, 'kay?"

Since her hand is essentially crushing his voice box, the most he can do is give a pathetic nod and gurgled consent.

"Spike is my mate. I am in love with him. Try to hurt him, and I will very violently hurt you. And if you don't believe that I can, ask Faith what I did to the last guy that tried to hurt Spike."

Lifting a hand from her tightly crossed arms, Faith raised her pointer finger and cheerfully says, "She sliced him into quarters with a shiny axe thingy."

"Right," Buffy confirms. "I love Spike, and I will do anything for him, just like he's proven that he'll do anything for me. Don't think for one single second that just because I loved you once, I'll go easy on you if you touch my mate. I loved you four years ago, and I still stabbed a sword through your increasingly flabby belly and sent you to hell. Or did you forget about that?"

The look on his face says that he has. Buffy's smirk, if possible, gets even bigger. "Think about this for a second, Angel. If I could do that when I DID love you... what do you think I'll do to you now that I don't?"

Clearly, this statement is all it takes for Angel to finally -- finally -- back off.

The entire room breathes a sigh of relief when Buffy lets Angel down. He sends her one last sad, puppy-dog eyed stare, and when she remains unmoved, he backs away toward the door, folding his arms across his chest and seemingly folding in on himself.

"Now. Was there a reason you came back to my town, or did you just come here to attack us and insult my intelligence?" she asks, rewrapping her arm around Spike's waist and tapping her foot.

If she cared more, she'd feel guilty at the sad, kicked animal look on his face, but the fact of the matter is that he has manipulated her like this too much and too often -- she isn't fucking falling for it again, and she glares harder until he he glances down and away.

"I know what you're facing here. I know about the First Evil, and the Potentials, and everything, and I have something here that could end it all in your favor." He's pulling the ugly, sparkly amulet out of his jacket pocket as he stops talking, and raises his hand toward her so she can take it.

And take it she does. Good God Almighty, this thing is ugly. Like, really ugly.

Where do these things come from, seriously?

"And... what exactly does it do? Besides clash with every single thing I own?" she asks, looking between the amulet and Angel skeptically. The look he gets on his face is almost eager and triumphant, and Buffy does her best not to look at Spike because she just knows he's getting ready to laugh his ass off.

"I'm not exactly sure what it does, but it's going to help you win. It's meant to be worn by a champion." He looks at her meaningfully, as if what he says next will make her jump into his arms. "Someone with a soul, but someone who is more than human."

"So... me?" she asks again, willing the moron to get to his point.

Angel smiles. "No, Buffy. Me. The amulet is meant for me to wear. I'm meant to be your champion." He levels a haughty glance at Spike.

The two blondes glance at each other and burst out laughing in amusement. Is he for real?

Buffy looks at him when she finally stops laughing, then frowns at the serious look on the Broody One's face. Fuck, he is serious. She shakes her head.

"Angel, go ahead and wear the amulet, but let's get one thing straight here. You are the Powers' champion. They picked you, not me. You are and always did base everything you did around me, and you can't do that anymore. I'm not yours. I don't belong to anyone but Spike. So if you stay and help out, then I appreciate your help with the apocalypse, but don't do it because you think I'll come back to you. You're not my champion, and you never were. Spike is. That's final, and the sooner you understand that, the easier this will be for everyone." She narrows her eyes. "Besides. What happened to that 'possibly, maybe, relationship-like thing' you had with Cordelia?"

His lip actually trembles at the mention of Queen C. "She's in a coma."

"Good God, she put herself into a semi-permanent sleep to get away from you?" Xander cries out. Looking around at the group, he lets out a cackle. "And you guys called me dumb for dating her!"

There's the sound of a snort from her mate, and suddenly she loses it, giggling helplessly. Angel looks at her reproachfully, but it just makes him look constipated, and she laughs even more.

The dark-haired vampire looks as if he's about to flap his arms like a flustered chick, and he abruptly turns and starts for Spike, because in typical Angel-Logic, Buffy never would have started laughing if Spike hadn't set her off. Her laughter brusquely stops and she moves in front of Spike, her lips curled back in a snarl. "Just. Try it," she growls, her green eyes glinting with the hint of violet given to her by her demon. The impression effectively startles Angel enough to stop him clear in his tracks and he stumbles back. Since her back is to everyone else, the appearance makes it seem like Angel has remembered what sort of strength she actually possesses. Spike steps closer to her and adds to the tableau with the gold glint from his own eyes.

"Now. If you plan to wear the sparkly thing and help us with the apocalypse, I suggest you go and find an empty house to stay in, since Sunnydale's been abandoned by everyone but us. And if you're going to be a whiny bitch about my relationship with Spike, then here's another suggestion -- get the fuck out of my town and don't let the damn door hit your ass on the way out. Get over it and grow the hell up," she snaps.

She clutches Spike's hand and looks at her sister and her vengeance demon friend. "Dawn, Anya, it's time to go home. Let's move."

Wisely, Dawn doesn't say a word, and instead goes to the basement door in the kitchen and calls down a farewell to the Potentials who have quickly become her friends. Buffy moves toward Giles and gives him a quick hug, then waves a farewell to everyone else. She blatantly ignores the shell-shocked brunet vampire in the corner as she tilts her head up to receive Spike's lips before her little four-person family turn to leave the house.

Spike leans into her as they walk away, murmuring his pride and love for her into her hair and kissing the shell of her ear, and she smiles warmly, nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder. She wraps her free arm around Dawn's shoulders, delighting in the sound of her little sister's laughter as Dawn trades jokes and anecdotes with Anya.

She never thinks twice about Angel, whose eyes are boring into her back. What's more.. she couldn't care less.

And she really couldn't be happier.



End Part Four...

The Girl With Kaleidoscope Eyes

---

five

---

In the end, Angel goes up with the school. Buffy almost wishes she can feel guilty about it, since it's her fault that he's in the building when she and Dawn shoot it to hell and back, but she'd be lying. All she can feel now is relief and happiness that everything she despises is gone, and everything she loves is still standing.

More importantly, Spike is still standing.

There's a point during the battle when he's blindsided by one of the Turok-han and goes down. She hears his roar of rage before he disappears from her sight, and she flies into a wild, panicked terror, a banshee-like shriek emitting from her throat as she elbows aside the younger girls and beheads anything vaguely bat-shaped that comes her way until she finds him again. Sprawled over top of the demon, his teeth buried in the being's torn throat, his beautiful face is tarnished with the thick, gooey blood of the creature that has dared to strike him.

In the face of her overwhelming relief at finding him undead and well, and still trembling from the fear that has stricken her with the thought of losing him, Anya's glamour suddenly shudders and fails, and Buffy's demon thrusts itself to the fore in the midst of a dozen new Slayers.

She flings herself at her mate, ignoring the shrieks of startled young girls and the stricken faces of any original Scoobies within the vicinity. Her lips close over Spike's in stark joy, disregarding the messiness of his face and the fact that there is still a battle raging around them. She's counting herself the luckiest bitch on (or rather, in) the Hellmouth that her man is just that damn vicious and strong.

Without missing a beat, her head suddenly shoots up with awareness, and she grabs Spike's hand, calling a retreat for the girls still alive as they make their way back up. A strangled cry of her name stops her in her tracks, and she turns back to look at Angel, Spike's arms locked around her and his eyes following hers.

Angel stares back at her in despair, his eyes focused on her demonic visage and the linked hands she shares with her Sire before he nods in resignation. Buffy nods back in thanks for the sacrifice he's making and then she and Spike catapult themselves out of the Hellmouth and back into the high school, fleeing to the saving grace that the shade of the DeSoto provides for Spike. Anya, Dawn and Giles are in the backseat with the remote control detonator.

Thanks to both Summers girls, Sunnydale High goes up in a violent explosion the likes of which Mayor Richard Wilkins only wished he'd been able to see as they speed away. The dynamite stashed within the school and the Hellmouth's entrance the night before the attack eliminates everything in its path and creates the beginnings of a massive crater that's only broadened by the shaft of sheer, white light that emanates at the center where Angel's body used to be and doesn't stop until it reaches the sky.

If anyone had still been in Sunnydale and looking on, they'd have been completely dumbfounded by the odd sight that they made -- the tank-like DeSoto with the blacked out windows barreling out of the town at 80 miles an hour, followed at an equally alarming speed by a large yellow school bus stuffed to the brim and bursting with teenage girls, witches, carpenters and a few normal men thrown in for good measure.

By the time they stop, Sunnydale and all of its monuments -- the thirteen cemeteries, the house on Revello Drive, the Bronze, Spike's crypt and all of the memories of the life she'd once lived -- are nothing but a giant hole in the ground.

As if to punctuate the devastation, Spike just barely backs the DeSoto into the You Are Now Leaving Sunnydale sign, the bumper and the tailfins of the car just swiping it; there's a loud creaking noise, and suddenly the sign falls backwards into the depths of the basin and out of their sights. It lands with a soft, metallic clatter.

Buffy turns to stare disbelievingly at Spike and he looks back bemusedly, then shrugs, grins, and says, "Couldn't resist, love."

And then she's in his arms, mewling in happiness as he purrs reassurances and love into her ear, unmindful of the trio who remain in the backseat, shell-shocked.

"B-Buffy," Giles starts to say, clearly about to start on a tirade regarding her new features and her obviously new appetite, before yelping as Anya pinches him and shakes her head slowly. When Giles looks at her questioningly, she nods toward Buffy and Spike, who are cooing at each other and nuzzling each other's necks, their eyes closed in bliss and sheer relief.

Giles sighs to himself and shuts up. Whatever she's become, he just can't bring himself to put her on the defensive when she's so clearly happy.

Whether she's a vampire or not.

---

They've made world-wide news now that Sunnydale and its Hellmouth have fallen. Some people are crediting it to earthquakes -- after all, what else is California known for besides Hollywood and shiny people? Others are saying its terrorists. Morons.

What else could possibly explain the disappearance of an entire town into a crater almost a third of the city of Los Angeles wide and God only knew how deep?

Angel's team in L.A. are understandably saddened by their boss's sacrifice, but proud -- even gratified -- at the same time. It turns out Angel had nearly made a decision to join the evil law firm in town -- the amulet he'd worn in the Hellmouth had been a sign of good faith that he would think about it. Some dead ex-lawyer girlfriend of Wesley's (Buffy isn't even going to try going into the logistics of that one) had tried to talk Angel into bringing the entire crew along, but they'd been uncomfortable in possibly answering to a group of evil attorneys that had made their lives a living hell for so long, and so they hadn't responded between the time they'd been offered the switch and Angel's death in the Hellmouth.

At least they aren't going to be evil.

Buffy decides that she likes Lorne, the Empath demon -- in her opinion, he's the best out of the group. He's funny, and he's kind, and despite the horrifically bright colors, he's got a killer fashion sense. He calls her cute pet names, and he's so flamboyant it's hilarious, and he makes Spike all flustered and blushy, which Buffy has never seen anyone do before. She has to keep Spike from turning tail and leaving L.A. right then and there because she wants Lorne to mess with him some more.

The L.A. crew want to keep fighting, instead of going their separate ways, and Buffy completely understands. They're all fairly normal, but they've seen the dark side of the streets of Los Angeles and they can't just ignore it all now. But they can't do it all on their own either, and so they nominate Wes to ask the Sunnydale contingent to stay and help.
Because they hadn't just gotten done with fighting for their very lives.

Ah, well. They aren't planning on doing anything for a while anyway.

---

"Love you."

It's a whispering gasp, one barely heard against the heavy slap of bodies connecting, of aroused snarls escaping throats, and lips and fangs meeting in a frantic need to be closer. Buffy's voice is almost swallowed up by Spike's reciprocating roar of pleasure, and suddenly her voice is hitting concert decibels.

The frenetic rocking of her hips begins to slow and he tilts his head back against the pillows, arching his strong, pale neck in preparation for her bite. His own hips force the momentum between them to quicken and grow again, and Buffy whimpers as her fangs sharpen and descend. Pushing her hair out of the way, she bends her head down and parts her lips, grasping the skin of his throat and sinking her teeth in deeply. Spike strikes at the same moment, one hand cradling her head and the other wrapped around her waist and resting on the small of her back.

Each time they renew their claim is mind-blowing, mystical, ethereal in its intensity, and a homecoming to the both of them. An explosion of colors appears behind her eyes, swirling and glistening and twisting and turning like the spectral brilliance inside of a kaleidoscope, and before she can even recover from her first orgasm, her second overtakes her. She can do nothing but cling to Spike's neck, writhing helplessly as he rolls the both of them over and plunges himself inside of her until he reaches completion himself. His teeth leave her neck and he snarls "Mine!" as his eyes roll up, and he shudders into her. His hands clutch her hips so hard, she can feel the bruises forming, and the pain makes her swoon happily.

She releases his neck and nuzzles his cheek. "Yours," she coos happily, kissing and nipping along his throat and jaw. "And you're mine, too, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, sweetheart," he answers, his lips sweeping across her forehead and his arms pulling her closer. "Always."

It's been a week since Sunnydale, and in that time, the backlash from Buffy's big reveal is still resonating. Now that she's been found out, the group of people that risked their lives in the Hellmouth are beginning to understand why the first Slayer has seemed so different during these last few months. Together, Buffy and Spike are faster, and their strength has grown exponentially. Patrols are barely an effort anymore, though they often return looking as though they've been fighting hellhounds -- and losing. Nobody wants to question what they've really been doing, because everyone already knows. Bite marks and happy faces don't lie.

Xander apparently can't stand to be in the same room with them anymore -- it's no skin off her back, honestly. He's fallen so far down the friend meter it's a wonder that he's even agreed to stay in Los Angeles with the rest of them. Because he was her friend for so long, though, she can't help but be slightly hurt that he would be so bigoted and hateful toward vampires that he would dismiss her so quickly now that he knows what she is.

Guess that friendship isn't as real as she thought it was.

Faith has apparently appointed herself as Buffy and Spike's bodyguard, given that the principal still looks at Spike with a gaze that more than implies that he's planning something. Never mind that the former Slayer and the Master Vampire together have more strength between them than Hercules, the younger Slayer has taken it upon herself to make sure that no one, not even the mini Slayers who look at them with distrust, tries to act the unwanted hero and attack them when they aren't looking.

Again, not that it would make a difference. But they appreciate it nonetheless.

It serves the added purpose of amusing Dawn, which Buffy loves. Her baby sister has decided that for better or worse, she's glad to be back in Los Angeles, and since Sunnydale is gone and has taken all of her legal (however cosmically whammied) documents with it, she's going to nag Giles until he uses Council resources to make new ones for everyone, including Buffy and Spike. From there, she plans to enroll in another high school, citing the giant sinkhole where her old town used to be as reason enough for her lack of notice.

Buffy's pride in Dawn notches up another hundred degrees when her sister informs her that she only plans to stay at the high school until the end of this school year, when she's a junior. The teenager has plans to graduate as early as possible, in order to attend UCLA the following fall. She wants Buffy and Spike to join her at the college campus for the Parents' Day and overnighter.

The last part nearly brings tears to their eyes.

Andrew has become less of a nuisance now -- especially since it's become clear that now, Buffy really can follow through on her threats to rip his tongue out and feed it to him if he bothers her or her mate in the slightest.

Willow has taken more of an interest, though, and in the days since Anya's glamour fell, Willow has been alternately awed and humbled. The fact that someone she has had so little regard for in the past could create something so powerful and yet so simple that it would fool her for so long seems to be a reality check for the red-head. Needless to say, Willow has swallowed her pride and, following Giles' encouragement, has looked to Anya for guidance -- something that pleases the vengeance demon greatly.

After deducing what Willow knows of the many white arts, Anya begins teaching the young Wicca something that Tara, when she lived, had been keen on -- the ability to see and read auras.

It's through this ability, that when Willow finally garners the courage to look at Buffy and Spike without sadness and remorse, she is reduced to tears at the sight of them together. The golden white aura of the claim surrounds them and glistens so beautifully that Willow suddenly becomes their strongest champion. The day after she gazes at them, Xander makes a snide remark about Buffy's preference for the undead leading to her preference of blood, and Willow proves to everyone exactly whose side she's on when she nearly lunges after her oldest friend, screaming at him to mind his business and to grow up.

Xander shuts up most days now when he's in the same room with them.

It's Giles' reaction that has Buffy the most concerned, however. Watcher or not, he has always been a father to her, and the thought that he might be disgusted by her now hurts so deeply that she'd swear she can feel her heart break.

Luckily for her -- she doesn't have to worry about Giles' disapproval in the slightest.

The sight of her fangs and lightly ridged forehead pains and worries him, but he's not disgusted with her, he says when she finally gains the nerve to approach him about her fears. He can't be any more proud of her than he already is, whether she's a Slayer, or a Slayer-turned-vampire, and given that she more or less acts the same as she always has, Giles has no concerns about her current status. He would never have wished this on her, he adds, sounding and looking a little sad as he watches her and her mate together, but having her vamped and souled is better than losing her again.

The fact that Giles mentions a soul surprises Buffy, but not by much. She knows that something about her is off -- she has less inhibitions, certainly, and she's not as uptight as when she was human. She's even drained a human body -- it was her first meal when Spike turned her under the First's influence, but she has no bloodlust. She had done it out of necessity. She's relegated herself to bags of human blood from the many hospitals in Los Angeles since that first taste in Sunnydale, but it hasn't occurred to her until now that her ease of transition has been due to her soul.

She feels kinda dumb now for not figuring it out. It seems so obvious.

So everything is not quite perfect, but it's as ideal as it can be. Xander is no longer in her inner circle, Willow's months of self-obsession are gone (and so is Kennedy for that matter), Giles is still by her side, Anya and Dawn are her biggest supporters and dearest friends, and Spike is still her mate, her lover, and her world. The Los Angeles crew are looking to her to lead them, and the younger Slayers are... well, they're still pains in the ass, but that can't be helped. Still, it feels like everything is finally shaping up right.

It feels good.



End Part Five

The Girl With Kaleidoscope Eyes

---

epilogue

---

Time passes quickly, as it always does. Buffy blinks, and six months have suddenly gone by. Her family has settled in Los Angeles more or less permanently, and Angel Investigations has remained at the Hyperion Hotel, under new management -- and under a new name. She, Wesley and Spike run the outfit, and in one of Spike's now regular fits of felicity, he suggests their new name, his eyes gazing lovingly at his mate all the while -- The Chosen One Detective Agency. Spike refers to it as CODA for simplicity's sake. Willow moonlights at the company, preferring to complete the remnants of her psychology and sociology degrees at Berkeley, while tutoring under the head of the coven that Anya and Giles have found for her.

Buffy isn't sure what to think the first time she meets Emma Blackstone, but when she observes the gentle, soft-spoken brunette, the former Slayer is often left speechless. Emma is a young, distant cousin of Giles' from Bristol, but Giles vouches for her in that she is very proficient in the arts. The Wicca is firm in her beliefs, she regularly communes with nature, she reveres Wiccan teachings, and she has an aspect about her, in her looks, in her speech, in her mannerisms that make Buffy shake in remembered grief and awe at the same time. Somehow, some way, it seems as though Tara MacClay is with them again. Granted, she has taken on a British accent as well as different facial features (in fact, there are times when Buffy looks at her that she swears she sees a resemblance to Dawn and even to Spike) but the woman's nature is nearly identical to Tara's in every way. Since meeting her, Buffy has often wondered if Tara didn't have a long-lost British sister that no one ever knew about.

There is nothing romantic between Willow and Emma as of yet, but Buffy has been keeping watch with tiny, knowing smiles, and she sees the flushing of Willow's skin, reminiscent of how her friend acted with Tara when their relationship first began. Buffy knows that Willow may not be contemplating another relationship, especially not so soon after the failure of her liaison with her erstwhile girlfriend, Kennedy. But the former Slayer can see the growing affection between them and knows that it will happen eventually. She couldn't be happier for the two witches, and she can't help but think that maybe love really can transcend life and death.

Xander's unwillingness to bend to the new situations around him has officially worn out his welcome among the original Scoobies. A month ago, he staged a confrontation with Buffy, wherein he spilled out such a load of vitriol-filled self-righteousness and disgust that Buffy couldn't stop herself, or Spike, from punching him in the face. Buffy pulled her punch. Spike didn't. Xander left in the middle of the night to avoid everyone -- and to avoid seeing the disappointment and anger in their faces -- and the last that anyone heard of him, he'd moved East toward the Great Lakes, getting a job with a construction crew. Willow remains the only one he maintains contact with, and even that remains a rarity -- something he does out of obligation for how long they've known each other.

Buffy wishes she could say that she's sad about it, but all she can feel now is relief that his prejudice and hate and self-indulgent superiority no longer hangs over their heads.

Right now, though, Buffy and Spike are more concerned with other things in life, like Dawn's studies and her new relationship. The younger Summers girl has made good on her promise, and has already declared her major at UCLA, though she is only a freshman. She's also been increasingly talkative and excitable about a guy she met in one of her classes. Seems the boy was born and raised in L.A., like Buffy and Dawn both were. He'd initially studied at Notre Dame for a semester, but returned home and enrolled in UCLA in order to be closer to his family. Buffy thinks Dawn said that his name was Carter... or maybe it was Connor? She can't bother asking Spike -- he stopped listening after Dawn said, "I met a boy!"

Spike's going to have to get over his aversion to Dawn dating, though -- her sister wants to bring this guy home for Christmas to meet everyone. Buffy feels more like Dawn's mother than she ever has before.

It's difficult seeing Cordelia lying in one of the Hyperion's beds, so silent, so still. Even when she was being cruel, at least she was alive, loud, vivacious, entertaining... Buffy's heart breaks a little at the sight of her. And since she can't physically do anything to bring Cordelia back, she at least convinces Giles to set the former Queen C up for long term care at the best hospital with well equipped facilities for situations like hers. Maybe eventually, Cordelia will come back to them, all snarkiness and attitude. But until then, Buffy is going to make sure that her former frenemy is taken care of... for however long it takes.

Wood has left California and for good, Buffy hopes. Not that she knows or really cares where he's gone, she just knows that one more threat to her mate is gone. Faith seems to be taking it a little hard, however -- unbeknownst to Buffy, the younger Slayer has been developing a bit of a crush on the former principal, despite her firm opposition to his beliefs. Buffy feels bad for Faith, but she can't help but feel that, in the end, it's for the best. There was something about Wood that just sat wrong with the group, and given how close she's grown to Faith again, Buffy doesn't want her sister Slayer to be wronged. She tells Faith this, and tells her again that despite how clichéd the phrase is, there really is someone out there for everyone, and Faith will meet him eventually.

Faith seems oddly touched by Buffy's sentiments. That burned bridge Buffy always worried about looks like it's finally being rebuilt.

Giles splits his time between England and California now, as he heads up the new Council building in London and oversees the new North American Council headquarters. The headquarters both double as schools for the new Slayers activated during the battle with the First, as well as fledgling magic practitioners and the young 'lost ones' -- the ones off the street that didn't have homes, or had lost their homes to demon attacks. Kids that had grown up and taken a course of vigilantism, much like Gunn and Wesley had.

Giles is not only the new head of the Council, but the headmaster of the schools as well. Since he divvies his time up so much, the younger ones have taken to calling him Dumbledore. After all, the headmaster in the book was known for not quite staying put as well. And since he's offered the deputy headmistress job to Willow when he's not in the States, the red-head has very happily taken on the nickname of McGonagall.

As a welcome-to-the-job present (and a joke, because Spike and Dawn wanted to see her do it) Buffy presents Willow with the stereotypical tall, pointy witch's hat (it looks exactly like McGonagall's because she got it from the store on the movie's website) and a stuffed white owl (that Dawn has drawn a lightning bolt mark on).

Willow is thrilled. She's also in charge more and more often as Giles begins overseeing the building of the new school in New York, so it's very fitting with the whole Harry Potter theme that everyone is piling on her.

Since he's been driving them nuts for officially a year and a half, the new Los Angeles crew has foisted Andrew off on Giles, stating that the older man can train Andrew to be a Watcher, if only to get him out of their hair. With all of the knowledge that the boy carries in that overly fantasized skull of his, becoming a Watcher may as well have been written in the stars for him. Unfortunately, he's decided that the best way to become a Watcher is to emulate Giles' every move and follow him everywhere.

Andrew hasn't been seen out of tweed in the last six months now. Giles is going out of his mind and is about ten seconds away from begging for an immediate intervention.

Anya is ridiculously happy being a demon again, and being free to bounce back and forth between different dimensions and realities, but she is never happier than when she is with her family in Los Angeles. Buffy has become like the sister she never had, and despite her awkwardness with Spike regarding last year, they've managed to maintain some semblance of camaraderie with each other. Plus, D'Hoffryn has apparently granted her some sort of immunity with all the power of Arashmahaar, because she's been allowed to pretty much do anything she wants with no consequence. She's essentially become her own boss -- if she wants to grant vengeance wishes, she does. If she doesn't, well then, no penalty.

It means she has more time to spend with them and can assist with any cases they happen to be working on. She's even managed to develop an interest in Wesley that he very shyly returns. The former Watcher's heart is still wounded from Fred's unknowing rejection of him, and from the guilt and sorrow he feels about Lilah's death. Despite the fact that Fred and Gunn's relationship has ended, Wesley doesn't think he could ever be with diminutive little Texan now without seeing her with his best friend. His own relationship -- if it could be called that -- with Lilah hasn't exactly inspired in him a lot of confidence. This bizarre, blunt and yet, flattering attention from Anya is going a long way to repair his faith in himself.

He might be damaged, but at least Anya is helping to repair him -- and she's doing so willingly, without any obligation.

So, their team has expanded. They are almost ten times the fighting force that they had been, and Buffy is a very pleased general with current and future troops under her surveillance. Her mate and lover is also her right hand, and willingly stands with her at every crossroads they face, both figuratively and literally (there'd been an issue with a crossroads demon in Laguna Beach a week ago -- somehow, not all that surprising, given the locale).

They'd recently had a tentative call from two men named John and Robert. It hadn't really been for a job, but more as a way to establish contact. The men were going to be traveling to the Hyperion in another three days, once John's son was finished with a "job" in Sioux Falls. Robert had told Spike to be on the look-out for either a demon with yellow eyes, or for a 1967 black Chevy Impala carrying himself, John and John's aforementioned son -- some kid named Dean. Given how many classic cars find their way around the solid block surrounding the Hyperion Hotel, Spike figures it'll be a doddle when the Impala does show up.

Now, Buffy watches the traffic outside of the jasmine garden in the Hyperion's alcove, her arms folded across her chest. The young Slayers that she herself has handpicked as her personal team are either training or playing, and Buffy's ears perk upwards as there is a loud ratcheting of raucous laughter. Her upper lip quirks in amusement and she sighs contentedly, then gives a happy purr when Spike comes up behind her, wrapping his arms dotingly around her waist and dropping his face to nuzzle her neck.

She's never imagined that life -- or unlife -- could possibly be so great. Or that she could ever be so happy. And it's only taken eight years for everything to finally come out right.

Oh, she knows that things aren't exactly perfect. She knows that eventually, something will come along to threaten the balance and her happiness, and drive her insane and make her feel wretched, and she'll piss people off and alienate everyone around her, except for Spike (because if she did, he'd be the only person not to fall for her tactics).

But right now, they get free trips back and forth from the London compound and Los Angeles, she and Spike will be the first people to tour the New York school when it opens in eight months, they now have contacts in twenty-six countries, and will be establishing another ten within the next week, and half of those contacts will be given the go-ahead to begin construction plans for the overseas Council schools. Buffy and her people -- she actually has people! -- have changed the complete look of the world as they'd known it.

So yeah, life won't be perfect -- but Buffy has it pretty damn close right now, and she wouldn't trade it for the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The echoing sound of stiletto heels clicking in the not-so-hallowed halls of Wolfram & Hart don't attract any attention, because there is no one else around. The building has been shut down for the night -- not that anyone would be surprised at her presence if they had seen her. Just because she's dead, it doesn't mean that she's stopped working for the company.

Sometimes, not even ghosts have the luxury of quitting their jobs.

She looks around leisurely, a small smile twisting the soft curve of her lips, her fingers touching the scarf that's wrapped around her neck. Walking to the receptionist's desk, she eyes the counter thoughtfully before placing a very touchable, very weighty yellow manila envelope on top of the inbox stack. That new receptionist they've hired will open it first thing in the morning, and a glittery silver amulet will be the first thing she touches.

Lilah Morgan bares her teeth in a wicked grin.

Tomorrow morning, the fun will really start.







The End.