‘Dawn!!’ Buffy yelled through the hall of the Watchers’ Central in London. ‘Dawn, where’s my red top?’

‘I borrowed it yesterday,’ came the bored answer. Dawn looked at the bed, where the top lay covered in tomato sauce from the pizza she had eaten for supper. Stain might come out… she shrugged.

‘Well don’t, it’s the one Spike gave me and I don’t want it spoilt: so give it back now!’

Dawn rolled her eyes. Giles, who had popped his head out to see what was happening went back into his own study and pointedly shut the door on the noise. Buffy had been in a foul mood since her return from Rome. Andrew had played far too many jokes on her to try and cheer her up; they had all backfired, leaving Buffy more bitchy than usual. Dawn’s love affair with the Immortal was going well, but Buffy seemed more lonely than ever. Andrew wondered if he should tell her that Spike was alive, but the blond vampire had asked them, no, made them, promise not to. Never mind: it was for the best, he thought.

Xander ignored the noise completely. He had kept well out of Buffy’s way since she had lost the baby. It had been Spike’s and no-one knew what a vampire half breed would be like. Yeh, sure Buffy had been upset when it first happened, but two months later did she still have to be moping around looking miserable? Anyway, he’d lost Anya and she’d been human and his true love. Maybe Willow could do a spell to cheer Buffy up, Willow was good at spells now, making people think the way she thought they should. It would be for the best.

Willow baked cookies, she did every day when Buffy started shouting. She felt bad for her friend, but really, all this fuss over a vampire. After all, she hadn’t mourned this long when she lost Tara: well, she had a bad day, got a bit cross. Tried to destroy the world, but Tara had been her soul mate, and she had been just killed for no reason. She would look into that spell Xander asked for, just to cheer Buffy up a bit: it would be for the best.

Buffy knew she was still in a bad mood, but no-one seemed to care. They mourned Anya and the lost slayers but no-one would let her mourn Spike; if she even mentioned his name they would change the subject, muttering that he ‘was only a demon,’ as if that lessened the sacrifice. When she lost the baby they had all seemed glad, glad because the child was a half breed, but it was her child as well. The attack while she was on patrol had almost been orchestrated, as though someone had known that she was going to be alone in the graveyard. She’d been lucky to get out alive.

Dawnie was happy living in Rome with her boyfriend, some guy by the name of The Immortal, but when she came to London it was like she had never left. She expected Buffy to provide everything, she had never forgiven Spike for the bathroom incident, she had only ever believed Xander, never Buffy. From when they had thrown Buffy out of her home in Sunnydale just before the final battle, things had never been the same. They had lost the closeness they once had. Now Dawn was taking Buffy’s stuff and leaving London completely, leaving Buffy with nothing, and Dawn thought it for the best.

They had news from LA. Spike was alive. Buffy had begged Giles for information, she’d tried to call Angel but she couldn’t get through, she’d tried everything she could think of; then Giles told her that they’d known Spike was OK, but he’d been made to promise not to tell. Spike didn’t want anything to do with Buffy and he thought it acceptable to agree: after all, it was for the best.

Giles and Willow pushed her further and further away from the centre of things and she was now just another slayer, but the final straw for Buffy was when no-one had told her Spike had been back. They all had known he was back and hadn’t told her at all. It was for the best, they said.

She just wanted her privacy. Her room was always being invaded, her diary read, her stuff gone through. She had nothing and no-one. The only thing that had been secret was the one picture she had found in the watcher’s journals of William the Bloody. She had photocopied it secretly and stashed it inside Mr Gordo.

Then That Day happened. She’d gone into her bedroom to see Mr Gordo on her bed, far away from the shelf he normally lived on. And worst of all, his seam had been ripped open and the photo was missing.

Buffy simply flew downstairs to see Willow going into Giles’ study with the picture in her hands.

‘We have to do something Giles, this fixation is silly.’

‘It’s for the best,’ Giles had to agree. ‘Buffy’s obsession with this family of demons is becoming a real annoyance. Perhaps we could cast a simple spell? Something to make her feel better?’

Willow nodded her head in agreement. ‘It’s for the best.’

Buffy went back to her room in tears, she had nothing and no-one, not even a picture now. And they were going to use magic to make her change her mind?

She had to do something; her life was dark, with no light and there was no hope. She had given everything to the cause and wasn’t even permitted the privacy an adult deserved in her own room. She had nothing and no-one. Faith had Robin and her baby was expected in a couple of months, Dawn had the Immortal Guy, Xander and Willow had each other: not as lovers, true, but as good and close friends.

She had stolen a knife from the weapons cabinet and had tried to cut her wrists, but she was the eldest slayer, her healing was faster than the wounding could ever be. She watched in horror as the wounds sealed themselves and all that was left was the small drops of blood in the sink to say that something had happened.

Buffy’s anguish was felt in Heaven and hell, but it was D’Hoffryn who answered it.

‘One wish slayer, I feel I owe you for keeping the world safe over the years and not coming after me personally.’ The Demon Lord said when he appeared in her room.

It was an easy wish for Buffy. ‘I want privacy, somewhere to call my own where no one can enter without an invitation. And I want an end to the pain.’

‘That’s two wishes, but as it’s you, easily done.’ D’Hoffryn waved a hand. ‘Wish granted.’ So simple a wish, that would have such devastating consequences in the future. Hell would be delighted with him. And it fulfilled Justice in such a…delicious way…the slayer would be gone for ever, and no more would be called.


Merrick had tried to make it to Buffy, to stop her wishing - but he’d not been in time. He couldn’t enter her room, he couldn’t get close at all. D’Hoffryn had done a good job. The intermediary fled back to The Powers That Be to give them the news. They had lost a Warrior of Light, perhaps the Greatest that had ever lived. She was in her room, and even they were unable to enter.

Joyce watched from just outside of the room. This was her baby, and no, she hadn’t been the greatest mom for a slayer, she hadn’t understood, but for them, for Giles and her so-called friends and her sister to leave her so alone was awful. She caught Merrick as he left the presence of the higher beings.

‘We’ve got to do something, the time they take to make a decision Buffy would have died from old age.’

They sat and talked for hours about the exact wording of the wish, to try and get round it. It all relied on Spike and he was in L.A.

He might be able to get through to Buffy, to help her feel better.

Buffy spent two whole days in her room, using the small en-suite, and no-one noticed. Slayers went out on patrol and came back. Dawn went out with her honey, and came back. Xander never came near her, even Willow left her alone: she had her peace.

Buffy wrote a letter to Giles. She would post it tomorrow then put her plan into action.


‘Dear Giles and Willow,

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

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

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

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

This is for the best.

Buffy’



Buffy slipped out of her room and posted the letter long before anyone was awake and slipped back into her bed before the first Slayers were up and training. She took out the bottle of Jack Daniels she had bought. She had to make it JD in his honour. It always reminded Buffy of him.

She wrapped herself in her quilt and lit the cigarette from the packet she’d bought, Marlboroughs of course, and settled down on the leather pillow that she’d found. There was no Spike smell here, none of the amazing male muskiness that was purely him, but everything else was there. His precious whisky, fags, leather… and now to sleep for ever. They couldn’t take away the memory of his smell. Buffy prayed harder than she ever had in her life.

‘Please God I know suicide is a sin, but please let me be with him. I can’t go on like this any longer.’ She hoped that she would be forgiven this one sin. After all, the world only existed because she’d saved it so often.

Buffy opened her purse. There was a vial of carefully brewed poison. It was based on the stuff Giles had used against her for the Crucetarium. It worked against Slayers. She had managed to persuade a witch to brew it for her; it had taken days, and cost a fortune. Buffy had made out that she’d wanted to kill Faith, so the Witch had helped. Delighted at the thought of bringing down a slayer, the slayer, the heroine that saved the world. That was what everyone knew now, that it had been Faith who had led the slayers to their great victory in Sunnydale. Buffy’s name was forgotten.

Quickly swallowing it down, balking at the taste, Buffy surrounded herself with the only things that gave her any comfort any more. The scents that reminded her of him.
Her breath became shallow and finally stopped.
Buffy, The greatest Slayer that had ever lived was dead.

Giles was woken up from a good sleep far too early, by the incessant noise from the phone. When he finally answered it he was met by the hysterical voice of Rona, his slayer based in New York. Her powers were gone. Completely: not only her but all the Slayers had lost their powers, they were back to being normal girls, weak and useless. She had nearly been killed by a newly risen fledge, and there had been three slayers on patrol that night. It took Giles about an hour to calm the hysterical girl down, and he promised to call her the following day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


‘Dear Giles and Willow,

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

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

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

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

This is for the best

Buffy’



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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

And he and Joyce waited for Spike to come round.

Spike woke up to smell fresh blood somewhere near him. It was human and rich: he could smell that too. He opened his eyes carefully; he couldn’t hear any heartbeats close by but some demons didn’t have them. He couldn’t smell any either. In fact all he could smell was blood and a reminder of home. Looking round the room he saw that the window was covered with a thick, heavy curtain, completely blocking out the chance of any sun. There was a small table by his bed with a lamp and a mug containing the blood that had been tempting his nose and his pallet. He reached over for it, sniffing it carefully to see if there were any drugs in it. Waking up in a strange place had bad memories for him.

A careful sip told him the blood was not drugged and confirmed that it was fresh, very fresh. It hadn’t even been bagged. It tasted familiar as well. He tried to sit up but was stiff and sore. His back hurt and every muscle complained at his attempts to reposition himself. Then he noticed he was buck naked; not that he was shy, but he had to wonder who had stripped off his jeans. His duster was hanging up on a hook on the back of one of the doors into the room, but there was no sign of anything else to cover his manhood. Good job he wasn’t the modest sort.

There was a soft knock at the door and a voice he recognised called out, ‘You decent Spike?’

‘Yeah,’ was the only answer he could give, making sure the sheet covered what it needed to. Flashing the goodies was one thing but not to an unknown woman, though the voice did sound familiar.

The door opened a little more to reveal a strange looking man and JOYCE. Joyce Summers was standing in his room looking amazing: well, alive - and that was amazing to start with. Spike looked at her again. Was it the First coming to mess with his mind?

Joyce stuck her head round the door and stared at the vampire in the bed: no wonder her daughter had been so enamoured. He looked more like a greek statue brought to life than anything human. She smiled to herself: he wasn’t human, was he?

‘Well you look better than you did last night,’ she said with a smile. ‘Is the blood up to standard? We got some from the hospital and added some of mine as well: seems I have slayer in my system and it should speed up your healing.’

‘R-i-g-h-t,’ Spike said slowly, still looking around for the trap. ‘Joyce, I thought you were dead, and I seem to remember the poof coming back for your funeral.’

‘And leaving my baby alone afterwards. If he wanted redemption he was going the wrong way about it.’ Joyce looked furious.

Ok, thought Spike to himself, don’t mention Angel or funerals.

‘What do you need from me Joyce? Vampires don’t normally get to visit heaven.’

‘What makes you think you’re in heaven, Spike?’

‘No torture and fresh blood available, and you’re here.’ He answered simply, ‘Can’t see you ending up in the fiery furnace.’

‘Well that is kind of you: with the mistakes I made raising Buffy I’m surprised I didn’t end up there, but I was given a chance to redeem myself, and so here I am trying to help.’

Spike looked at the woman who had become a second mother to him, and sipped his blood. She didn’t look any different than when he’d last seen her. She didn’t smell any different either, but there was no heartbeat, no smell of blood pumping through her body. What ever she was, she wasn’t human.

‘Wha’ you need me for then Joyce? It’s not like you would have rescued me for my conversation skills.’ He took another drink of the blood, emptying the mug fully before putting it back on the small bedside table.

Merrick kept watch from the door, not wanting to disturb the reunion, but they had little time to spare.

‘Joyce,’ he said quietly, ‘we have to tell him what’s happened.’

Joyce nodded and took Spike’s hand, sitting gently on the edge of the bed. ‘It’s Buffy, she’s….’

‘She’s what Joyce? You’re frightening me…’ Spike could feel his demon trying to break through. He knew Joyce had seen him in game face, but he didn’t want to scare her and held the yellow eyes back.

‘Giles and Willow, and to a certain extent Dawn, have controlled her with magic and lies since Sunnydale went. And she finally snapped: she took a potion that has left her in a magical coma.’ Joyce let the tears fall unchecked down her face. Spike wrapped his arms around her, trying to give what comfort he could, ignoring the fact that the sheet barely covered his modesty.

Joyce held onto the man she thought of as her son and wept as though her heart was breaking.

‘She set wards around her room so no-one can get in and has just taken her own life. She must have been so lonely to take that step.’

‘Did she make it back to heaven? ‘Cause I won’t take her from there.’ Spike’s eyes filled with unshed tears but he was determined that his wonderful beautiful slayer wouldn’t live through that hell again.

‘No she’s not in heaven Spike, I would never do such a cruel thing. If she was there, you would be with her, but she is immortal. And the wards she set up mean that her soul cannot leave the room.’

‘Well then, why don’t you just go in and do what the Powers that Meddle do best, and meddle? Go fix it and leave me in peace.’

‘Do you know she meant what she said when the hell mouth went up?’ Joyce looked at the vampire, seemingly changing the subject, ‘and did you know she hasn’t had a boyfriend since you went up in flames?’

‘What about the Immortal? She was getting pretty friendly there.’

‘You mean Dawn’s fiancé? Well he will be when he gets around to asking.’

‘Dawn’s fiancé? She’s not old enough to be thinking of getting married, and he’s a wanker anyway.’ Spike allowed what Joyce had said to filter through his brain: not Buffy’s date, Dawn’s date.

‘But Andrew said…’

‘Andrew said a lot.’ She sat back a little. ‘Andrew lied and manipulated everyone around him; he’s a little toad.’ she added with a frown.

‘How do I rescue her?’ he asked. ‘If I wasn’t the answer you wouldn’t have brought me here.’

Joyce smiled, then blushed. And Merrick grinned. ‘You ever read Sleeping Beauty? The original, not the Disney version?’

‘Well I remember something about seven little men and one bird, and a witch and a poisoned apple.’

‘That was Snow White; Sleeping Beauty was the one where she pricked her finger and fell asleep for 100 years. But do you remember how they woke Sleeping Beauty up originally?’ The old man asked with a glint in his eye.

‘Gave the bird a kiss: some tosser rides up on a horse, kisses the girl and they ride off into the sunset happily ever after.’

‘That’s the Disney version again. I would have thought you would have read the original: full of blood and guts it was, in the original she awakens when she’s giving birth to twins.’

Spike burst out laughing. ‘You want some boy toy to shag the slayer? And I… what, watch? Give him some pointers? Hold her down if he’s not man enough for the job?’

Joyce gave him a look as old as time.

‘William,’ it was a mother’s voice through and through, ‘it has to be from her heart’s true love - and that’s you.’

Spike started laughing, roaring with it, until he winced as the broken rib dug into his side.

‘More blood I think,’ Merrick said, slipping out of the room to allow Joyce to talk to the young man in privacy.

‘You have always loved her, Spike. It shows in everything you do and say when she is around.’

‘I’ve always loved her Joyce, yes, but it was never reciprocated, it was no mutual thing. I was useful, convenient - but she never loved me.’

‘If you think that you’re a bigger idiot than that hair-gelled freak who was always hanging around.’ Joyce grumbled. Spike grinned at the description of his grand sire.

‘The poofter was over gelled wasn’t he; but she didn’t really love ME, Joyce. I was just handy.’

‘No Spike you weren’t just handy! She loved you, more than you could ever know, but she was frightened by the depths of her feelings. Everyone who she had ever loved abandoned her: that idiot, her father…me…’

‘You didn’t abandon her Joyce, you died. It’s not the same thing.’

‘I threw her out of her home, and left her to find her own way in a world full of monsters. And I won’t even talk about how stupid I was over Ted: she warned me he was abusive, but did I listen, no… well now I have a chance to help put things right. You she loved, totally, completely, she loved the gentle loving poet who made her feel like she was the only woman in the world, and she loved the demon who challenged her to be better and she loved the warrior who fought at her side and had her back. She needs you, Spike. Her soul needs you, you complete her totally, you are her equal, the other half of her.’

Spike looked at Joyce and started laughing again. He wondered how the First had managed to be corporeal: he could touch this version, but there was no way he was Buffy’s soul mate. Joyce had got it wrong.

‘I am not the First, Spike, what do I need to do to prove it to you?’ Joyce could see the emotions running across the young man’s face, they were so easy to read.

‘You could let him bite you Joyce,’ the strange looking man said as he came back into the room with another mug of blood.

‘What?’ Spike looked horrified, ‘bite Joyce?’

‘Well if that’s what it takes, ‘she said, clearing the hair from her neck and offering it up to the vampire. Spike looked at the two people in front of him: they were serious.

‘Go on William, don’t hang about all day, I don’t know how much longer I can be this brave.’

Spike leant forward and slipped into game face, scenting the air to find the trick, but there was none. As soon as his fangs broke the woman’s skin he could taste the familiar Summers’ taste: this was Joyce. He quickly withdrew and licked the wound, closing it with his saliva.
‘I believe you,’ he said gently, ‘you are Joyce, you have her scent, and her blood, but why no heartbeat?’

‘Cause I am dead, but the powers knew that my blood would help you heal almost as quickly as my daughter’s did, so we were prepared.’

Merrick passed him another cup of blood and looked at the blond man sitting on the bed. ‘Will you do it? You are her true love, you know.’

‘Me, her true love, don’t be daft! I’m a V_A_M_P_I_R_E, she’s the slayer, well a slayer, but the best there’s ever been; anyway, vampires shoot blanks.’

‘The slayer again,’ Merrick said quietly. ‘All the potentials are back to being that, potentials, the energy needed to power them came from Buffy through that scythe, and Faith is pregnant and refusing to patrol.’

‘And quite rightly,’ Joyce added harshly, ‘she has every reason to refuse, and they mustn’t be allowed to pressure her into doing it, not like poor Buffy. And who told you vampires can’t have children? There have been lots of cases; female vampires have problems, but males are quite capable of fathering a child - provided they don’t eat the mother first,’ she added with a grin.

‘Buffy? What about Buffy?’ Spike asked, leaning over to reach for the jeans at the end of his bed. He lifted them high and waved them at Joyce who turned her back before he threw off the sheet and shucked on the denims; being naked, even if covered with a sheet was no way to hold a serious conversation. Joyce smiled as the vampire pulled on a black tee and continued to button up his jeans. Her daughter was a lucky lady. The movements he was undertaking showed off his muscles quite marvellously.

‘The powers gave her a child of your blood, William,’ she said quietly, the pain obvious in her voice as she turned back to face him again, ‘and she lost it when she was out patrolling, a patrol she should never have done.’

Spike felt the pain hit him hard. Buffy pregnant with his child and forced to carry on patrolling: the scent of her would have brought every nasty there was out of the woodwork, all gunning for her. And the thought of any woman being forced to fight for her life when pregnant was sickening.

‘That’s worse than Angel would have pulled, whose bright idea was it?’ he snorted. His poor Buffy! Spike felt his heart aching for the woman who owned his soul.

‘Giles thought it for the best,’ Joyce said.

‘So what do I have to do?’

‘Go to London, go to her room and play the handsome prince.’ Merrick smiled. ‘Kiss the princess, amongst other things, and wake her up in good old fashioned once upon a time style.’

Spike looked carefully at the two people in front of him. He tried to smell a lie, smell falsehood, but all he could smell was blood from the now empty mug, and worry rolling off both the beings in front of him.

‘Joyce, do you know what you’re asking me to do?’ He looked at the woman who had become a second mother to him.

‘Yes I do know, William, but she’s trapped in that room, and will be for all eternity, unless you free her.’

‘Why me, mum? There must be a hundred blokes that fit the description better than a vampire.’

‘It has to be Buffy’s true love, the man she has given her heart and soul to, and that’s you.’

‘Nah, then you need peaches, he was always her true love, should get him to come and shag her. He’d never notice if she was unconscious.’

Joyce gave him a filthy look. ‘William!!’ She snapped, ‘watch your language, and it’s you she loves, it always has been, she told you she did and it broke her heart that you didn’t believe her!’

‘I did it for the best Joyce,’ he said softly, ‘I honestly thought she should just get on with her life. Forget me.’

‘Everybody did it for the best, but no-one thought to ask her what she wanted. She could never forget you, you held her heart in her hand; now go and get my baby back.’

‘Yes mum.’ Spike got up and picked up his coat, ‘Uh, how do I get there?’ he asked.

Merrick waved his hand and Spike found himself standing outside a wooden door in an apartment somewhere. The gem of Amara dropped at his feet with a tinkling sound.

‘Just in case any of the Scoobies get any stupid ideas,’ a disembodied voice said. Spike bent down and slipped it onto his hand and looked at the ring. It had been years since he’d seen it and it felt good to have it back on his hand. He looked again at the doorway in front of him and hoped he was at the right place. He would just have to trust Joyce and Merrick.

Dawn’s high-pitched scream told William he was indeed at Buffy’s home.

Spike looked back at the door in front of him. He could see the slight red haze that showed where the barrier was; glimmering half an inch from its surface, malevolent and dark, pulsing with an evil, unholy light. He put his palm against it and watched as his hand slipped through it without even a tingle. Joyce had been right: he could get through it.

Spike took a deep, un-needed breath, and tried to calm himself down. If Joyce had been telling the truth about the barrier, then she’d been telling the truth about everything else as well. Buffy had loved him; he felt such an idiot for even listening to Angel and staying in LA. He should have gone to her first moment he could, then none of this would have happened.

The noise from the teenager behind him finally permeated through to his brain. Dawn’s screeching could still melt ear wax, and he knew he had to turn to face the youngest of the Summers women… not that he wanted to without ripping off her head or at least tanning her hide. How could she turn her back on Buffy again? Hadn’t she learned her lesson after the debacle in Sunnyhell?

‘Spike, is that you or are you the First? I won’t be haunted again!’ Dawn yelled at him before she hit him gently on the arm to check that she could touch him; then she remembered that she still hated him and hit him even harder, venting her frustration of the last year on him. Spike tried to ward off the blows without hurting the …tall... woman… in front of him. Dawn could look him straight in the eye. That surprised him: he didn’t think he’d missed that much of her growing up. He evaded another blow before catching her arms in his vice-like grip.

‘Now you stop that right now niblet before I fight back: you don’t get to do that any more, Dawn,’ he growled, releasing her before rubbing his arm. He stood back to get a good look at the young woman in front of him. She had grown into her beauty; no longer a gangly youth she was now truly a woman, with curves in all the right places.

‘You hurt Buffy and you didn’t bother letting us know you were back and you hurt me!’ Dawn’s complaints could be heard as she flounced off in the opposite direction, screaming at the top of her lungs for Giles. Maybe there was some of the child left in there after all.

Spike gave himself a shake. Didn’t seem like his Niblet had forgiven him, and he could still hear her yelling for Giles and Willow as she made her way through the building - but he was immune to stakes at the moment, thank God. Spike touched the brass handle and slowly opened the door to look inside. Buffy lay as if asleep, her hair shining in the sunlight and her head resting on a leather pillow. It broke his heart; she looked so relaxed and peaceful, but he could hear no heart beat, no sigh of her breath, and it made him feel empty. The light of his life had been snuffed out by her own hand.

‘What are here for, Spike, and what are you trying to do?’ Giles’ voice broke through the silence.

‘Just what I was told to,’ the vampire replied in a bored voice. He really didn’t want to deal with the ex-librarian at the moment, not with Buffy so close. He laughed quietly to himself. He was standing in broad daylight and the wanker, watcher, was holding a crossbow aimed straight at the vampire’s heart.

‘You can’t go in there,’ Giles could do a growl as well, mused Spike as he turned slowly to look the watcher up and down.

‘You going to stop me?’ he hoped he sounded more bored than he felt; at this particular moment he was trying not to snap the man’s neck or rip his head off his shoulders.

‘No, but the barrier will.’ Giles never had liked the bleached menace, and couldn’t understand why he was here. He pulled the trigger of his bow and watched in horror as the bolt flew through the air and landed in Spike’s chest… and NOTHING happened.

‘That tickled,’ Spike said with a grin before pulling out the arrow and throwing it on the floor in disgust. Giles looked in horror at the debris.

‘You could eat us…’ he stuttered.

‘Why would I want to poison myself with rancid blood? Even the thought makes me want to heave. Still haven’t learnt anything have you, watcher? Do you really think I could’ve appeared inside your home without a higher power organising it? You really are a pillock aren’t you?’ He looked the man up and down and was disgusted at what he saw; time had not favoured the older man.

Spike smiled as he watched Giles face when he registered what the vampire had said - and the fact that he was already over the threshold of the room. It was not a pleasant smile, more like the one a cat gives a mouse just before he strikes. A predator’s smile, and Spike hadn’t even let his demon through.

‘But we tried everything,’ he was stammering, trying to understand how something so evil could succeed after everything they had done had failed.

‘Obviously missed a trick; now if you‘ll excuse me I’ve a slayer to try and wake up.’ Spike deliberately shut the door on the watcher and Dawn. He didn’t want to deal with the witch and he could hear Willow running down the hall. She skidded to a stop as she saw the door shutting in front of Giles and she tried to touch it but she, like all the others, was shocked away from the barrier. The Scoobies were left just standing in the hall, trying to work out what had happened.

‘What do you think he’s doing in there?’ Willow asked the older man who stood just staring at the door.

‘Whatever I have to, Red, whatever I have to,’ came the answer as the door shut.

Willow looked ugly. Her lips were pinched and there was a sullen look on her face. She didn’t like what was happening; she was supposed to be the big gun, she was supposed to be the one who rescued the situation at the last minute. She was supposed to be the heroine. Willow stomped her way back down the stairs, sulking all the way. She wanted a drink and to look into some more spell books. She was still angry at Buffy’s selfishness: there were demons all over the world, hell mouths were opening up everywhere and she knew she had to be the one to close them, not that lazy slayer upstairs, who couldn’t even be bothered to hang around.

Joyce and Merrick listened in to the witch’s thoughts and couldn’t believe the hubris she was displaying, as though she was the only one who had ever done anything. She had used the power of the scythe to tap into the slayer’s own power, using Buffy of course, without thinking about the consequences. But then she never did.
Time for the second part of their job…

Spike could hear the comments through the closed door, but he ignored them all, they weren’t worth the effort. Buffy was in front of him, real, not part of some dream he was having, and that’s where his heart and mind wanted to be, with her.

William the Bloody felt scared: if his heart could beat it would be crashing through his chest. Spike slipped off his black duster and put it on the chair, taking his time as he looked around the room, taking in every detail, allowing himself the minutes he needed to come to terms with what he’d been asked, no told, to do.

He saw the emptiness of Buffy’s life reflected in the room. There were no pictures displayed, no personal touches; her hair brush was a cheap and simple one, one that simply got the job done, the cleansing products were also cheap ones. No smell of vanilla or jasmine perfumed the room, there weren’t even any candles; if it wasn’t for the blond on the bed, Spike would never have known whose room it was. Then Spike saw the pig, Mr Gordo, sitting on the dresser, his seam still leaking stuffing and he looked forlorn, as though he knew that his beloved mistress was dead. Spike tried to hear any sound of life from Buffy but there was none. He took a deep breath in: there was no scent of death. She was there, he could smell that wonderful Buffy scent, but it had faded, days old.

Spike made his way over to the bed, noting the bottle of whisky, the fags, the leather pillow. His heart felt like a hand was gripping it, squeezing it hard, and he felt like crying. The fact that the greatest slayer ever had been reduced to this pitiful woman was a crime against all humanity. It hadn’t taken some nasty’s one good day, it had taken the unending grind of her so-called friend’s good intentions.

He picked up the pig and started stroking it, remembering the times when she’d thrown it at him. She’d had far more serious weapons at her disposal but when she was really mad at him it was the pig. This fraying, disintegrating, pig. Spike strode over to the door and snatched it open; he’d do something about that to start with.

‘Giles!’ he yelled through the open doorway. The watcher was heading down the corridor away from the room when he heard the shout. Giles hurried back towards the yelling vampire, still clutching the crossbow as though it were a talisman. Dawn put her head out from her own room, where she’d decided to hide, wondering what all the noise was about now; she had caught the look on Spike’s face earlier and knew it meant trouble for someone, and she was staying well out of the way. Giles met Spike in the corridor; he was stroking the decrepit pig from Buffy’s childhood.

‘You get this fixed,’ The Vampire with the gleaming yellow eyes told him. ‘How could you? You were supposed to be her friends: you stripped her of everything she valued. I just wish you could feel the pain you inflicted on her for a week. Then you’d know what it felt like.’

‘Wish granted,’ a disembodied voice said and Joyce appeared from a bright light.

‘Joyce: you’re a vengeance demon?’ Spike was suddenly worried; if she was a demon she could well have lied about Buffy not being in heaven. He was glad he hadn’t started trying to help Buffy yet. Not until he knew the truth; but she didn’t smell like a demon. He didn’t get any tinglies like he had from Anya.

Joyce smiled gently: she always had liked the blond vampire, he was such a nice boy. Funny how Spike, at over 140 years of existence, could seem younger than Giles who wasn’t yet sixty. She hadn’t forgiven the watcher his behaviour since Sunnydale. He had been the worst of his kind, at least Quentin Travers had been a known enemy, but Giles’ insidious hatred had coloured everything he had done, trying to manipulate her daughter as though she was some sort of puppet. Joyce didn’t need to be a demon to want justice or vengeance.

‘I’m no demon William, and D’hoffran prefers justice demon I believe, but I am worse than anything Hell could throw at you: an irate mother. “Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord”, and he empowers his angels to enact righteous vengeance. I will reflect back the hatred and loathing Buffy has felt on those that inflicted it; if they inflicted nothing, then they will feel nothing, if their hearts and motives were pure then all they will feel is a slight regret where their conscience will prick them; but if they were manipulative and sought to control her, then they will feel that control reflected back on them… every unkind word, thought and deed shall be shown them all.’ Joyce’s voice sounded echoey, as though she was pronouncing judgement on someone.

In the hall Giles felt sick, his heart breaking as he started to see and relive everything he had put Buffy through. He wanted to pretend he had acted in her best interests but he knew it wasn’t true, and he couldn’t hide from the truth in his own mind or in his own heart. He saw his cruelty to Buffy when she was five months pregnant, begging him to find someone else to take out the nest of vampires that had set itself up near a convent school, giving Rosa the evening off so she could go on a date with her boyfriend because she had been working hard all month; Buffy had worked for years without a break and he hadn’t thought anything of it. He could feel the bone weary tiredness creeping into every limb, his joints aching from the effort put in just to keep going. He could feel Buffy’s love and need to protect the life growing within her, and his contempt for it. Tears rolled down his face as he felt her pain at the realisation that no-one really cared for her, him, her… Buffy; they loved having the slayer around, but not her, they wanted her obedient and pliable, just a machine to do what she was told.

He felt her pain when she was attacked and the agony of the blow that sent her child into the next life. He felt every sting, punch and cut, and how the knife tore at her skin. The loneliness of waking up in the hospital, with strangers telling her that the mugging she had suffered had cost her daughter her life. He felt his heart break as he saw how she cradled the tiny child for the hour they let her, before taking little Anne away to be buried, buried without Buffy’s knowledge, in a unknown graveyard, unnamed and unwanted by any but the mother who was bleeding heavily in the hospital, taken away by the orders of her so called friends.

He felt her devastation at being abandoned by him when Joyce died; he should have stayed with her, cared for her, but he had run as far away as possible. He had even suggested that they kill Dawn to stop Glory, how stupid could he be… and to throw her out of her own home, to support Faith as leader in the battle with the First… Giles started to crawl away on his hands and knees, he just wanted to hide his shame in his private space where no one could see him cry. The thought of that room being violated by another made him throw up on the carpet as he crawled his way along the corridor.

Giles was made to see how his actions in Sunnydale, setting Spike up to be killed by Robin, had nearly cost Buffy her greatest ally; if he had succeeded the planet would have been overrun by the forces of evil. As it was they were losing the battle now.
Giles tried to shift the blame, but he couldn’t; he knew in his heart of hearts all this really was his fault. His last thoughts before the horror in front of his eyes overwhelmed him was that he hoped Willow would see this for what it truly was and he begged that he would be allowed to apologise to Buffy. With his last thought a prayer to Buffy he collapsed on the floor in front of his shut door and continued to live out the horror he’d made of his surrogate daughter’s life.


Willow began to shake, falling forward onto the table in front of her, the books scattering everywhere: flashing in front of her eyes was every cruel and vindictive thoughtless action she had ever done, from forget spells, to her wish in Sunnydale for Spike and Buffy to be married, and to her appalling behaviour since. She screamed hoarsely as every word and deed was shown to her, but Willow wasn’t going to take this: she was the strongest witch there had ever been - in her own mind at least. She watched with contempt as the powers showed her the pain she had caused Buffy, and felt nothing. Merrick couldn’t quite believe it: she was shaking off the pain Buffy had felt, she wouldn’t or couldn’t learn. He appeared in front of the red headed witch and looked her in the eye. There was no remorse in her heart or in her mind; she was right and nothing else mattered. There was nothing they could do for the witch, but Buffy loved her, and they wouldn’t hurt Buffy.

‘Child, you are beyond help in this life, but I am not going to send you to hell, though I am severely tempted. Your problems stem from the love you never had as a child: you never learned to love or to empathise with anyone, so we will return you to that state. You will become a child again, a baby in a womb somewhere…’ and Willow vanished in a light, as though she had never existed.

Joyce looked at the pig still in Spike’s hand.

‘Be whole,’ she whispered and with a gentle wave of her hand, the pig’s seam restitched itself and the photograph of Spike materialised in his hand.

‘Give this back to her, Spike,’ she said quietly, then looked to the room containing her other daughter. Joyce took a deep breath and pointedly looked into the room where Buffy lay asleep on the bed.

She turned back to Spike. ‘You go back to your lady; I’ll deal with these people, and I will leave them alive, don’t worry,’ she added with a grin that reminded Spike of a cat with a mouse.

‘Now, Dawn,’ he heard as he turned his attention to the petite blond on the bed.

‘Buffy pet,’ he said, stroking her cheek; she felt as soft and warm as she always had but there was no response at all. She lay on her side, her hand curled under her cheek, and her hair falling softly around her face. He could still see where the tracks of her tears had left their pathway on her face. His poor Buffy, left so totally alone. His unbeating heart seemed to pound in his chest, he had never felt so helpless. He just wanted to hold her in his arms and keep all her demons away. His own demon just wanted to kill something or someone. Spike could admit it at last: she was his queen, his love and his heart. He hadn’t needed to get a soul, his lay on the bed, with her blond hair spread around her.

Spike stroked her face again; her skin felt soft and smooth under his hand and there was no evidence of decay or stiffness. It was just like she had gone to sleep. Spike took another deep breath and tried to taste her presence in the air, but there was nothing, just the fading scent of her that was about a week old.

Spike thought about what Joyce had said. He had never been one for fucking dead bodies, other than Dru and Harmony of course, but they still had the moves and this was akin to rape. She couldn’t say yes or no, lying on the bed.

Spike laughed to himself: at least she couldn’t back-answer him this time. Spike leant forward and kissed her on the cheek gently, sliding his lips over her skin towards her mouth. The skin was cold under his touch; it reminded him of Dru and he felt a shiver run down his spine. The last thing he needed was for something to remind him of that nutcase of an ex. He looked at Buffy’s closed eyes and kissed those with equal tenderness, one butterfly kiss to each closed lid. Her eye lashes made perfect half moons on her pale cheeks.

He bent down and kissed the side of her face and took her hand in his. It looked so tiny in his grip: he knew how strong it could be, but now it looked little more than a child’s. He would have given anything to feel a pulse in that hand, to feel it bunch into a fist to hit him, but there was nothing: no movement, no pulse, no life whatsoever. He leant forward and he deepened the kiss on her lips, his tongue trying to force open her lips to explore inside that beloved mouth. It opened slackly; no muscles kept it closed. Spike pushed her over onto her back and rubbed his hand across and then under her white blouse. A quick rip and the buttons flew everywhere and her bra and breasts were open for his perusal. Still nothing. Buffy hadn’t reacted at all, and to something that she would have normally complained about.

He stroked her thigh, running his hand up the outside, revelling in the feel of her beneath his hand, beneath his touch. She felt as good as he remembered; he stroked up underneath her skirt and he felt the tiny thong covering her womanhood. He smelt the air, but there was no familiar smell of her arousal, nothing scenting the air. He kissed her deeply on the lips again, working his way down her body, suckling at her nipples, hoping against hope that she or at least her body would start to respond.

He pulled the zipper down on his jeans, releasing his cock from its confinement. He put his free hand on his shaft and started to stroke it, feeling it harden in his grasp. Spike wanted it to be Buffy who held him, but she was still lying lifeless beneath him. When he was hard, he slipped both hands up her thighs and gently pulled the thong down her legs. It was a little scrap of red lace, the sort he used to steal from her, and she was wearing a little leather skirt, just how he liked her. No pants. If he didn’t know better he might have thought he was expected.

He straightened her legs, and gently nudged open her thighs, settling himself in the cradle of her hips; he could feel her opening, tight and dry… damn, he hadn’t thought about that!! No arousal, no lubrication. He reached over and opened her bedside drawer, hoping that she had some supplies in it. Luck was with him: he opened up the oil and poured a little into the palm of his hand before rubbing it over his shaft. It felt cool against his skin. Spike looked at he girl beneath him and closed his eyes. He couldn’t bear to see her lying so still a moment longer. He felt between their bodies with his long fingers, feeling the softness of her folds and pushed a finger deep inside her, stretching her flesh beneath his touch. He could smell no arousal from her, but he added a second, then a third finger, moving within her body, reaching that sweet spot that used to have her arching into him. He opened his eyes to look at her once again and his choice was made. He positioned his oiled cock at her entrance and with one push he was imbedded deeply within her. His movements garnered no reaction at all, but he kept moving within: he could feel his orgasm far too far off. Tupping a corpse was no joy at all. He tried to remember the times when Buffy had been conscious, had joined with him gleefully and with abandon. The memories of their loving nights, especially of the last one before Sunnydale fell, brought him closer and closer to the rapture he needed. But he was still way off: he looked down at her tempting neck, there was no pulse to draw him, but Buffy’s neck was always a special place for him. He could see the marks of his late unlamented grandsire and they garnered a growl from his demon, the demon that broke through, his eyes turning yellow and his face slipping into its demonic guise. He felt his fangs sink into her butter soft skin, he could taste that addictive slayer essence and the sweetness that was Buffy; but beneath it all he could taste a sourness, a bitterness that had no business in his sweet lady.

The touch of slayer’s blood on his tongue was all that was needed to push him over the edge into bliss. He could feel himself pump into her still body; his heart broke as he realised she still hadn’t responded to him at all. He could feel the tears fall unbidden from his eyes. So much for the ‘Big Bad,’ he thought with little more than contempt for himself. It was akin to rape, what he had done. He rolled off his beloved’s body and tried to control the shaking that had overtaken his body.
There was a strange taste in his mouth: the blood had been tainted and not with death. There was poison in it: he could taste it fouling his mouth. Spike climbed back on top of Buffy’s body: it was the easiest position to reach her neck. He sank his fangs back into the mark he had recently met, sucking gently on the scar, pulling out not blood, but the toxin that had taken her life. He spat out the vile brew every time it hit his mouth, sucking harder and harder to remove every trace from Buffy’s body.

‘What a wonderful way to wake up,’ a soft voice said to him, ‘you on top of me, and already naked.’

Spike pushed himself up on his arms, to stare down into the most wonderful sight he had ever seen. A pair of sparkling green eyes looking up at him.

Xander thought he was going to die, no actually, he just hoped he was going to die. He had been taking it easy for a couple of days in a nice little hotel the Council were paying for when the nightmares hit. He hadn’t even got the energy to get off the bed to use the bathroom and in the heat of the African summer he wasn’t smelling so sweet. It had been less than six hours since it all started, the terrible feeling of responsibility, of loneliness, of heartbreak. His tormented mind kept going back to Buffy; he kept seeing the pain on her face when he had tried to rape her, and the anger he had used as a weapon to keep his friend in line. The times he had turned on her for being in love with a demon. He was a grade one ass and a hypocrite. What had Anya been but an 1100 year old demon, one who had started the Russian revolution for God’s sake? How many lives had she ruined, tormented, ended? And he had used her, used her to make Buffy jealous, but she hadn’t been jealous, she had just been happy for him, because her love for him was so much purer than his love for her. He envied Spike knowing her body so well. And his anger at the sights he’d seen in the magic shop had been normal, but his anger later had been because he had found that Buffy had loved that dead thing.

A hammering at the door brought his attention away from the horrors that flashed before his eyes and into the bright light that flooded his room.

‘Xander, Xander…’ Queenie’s voice sounded loud in the room, echoing around it as though she was shouting through a bull horn. ‘Xander you need to wake up and talk to us: none of the girls know what to do. You’re our watcher; come on, Xander.’

But Xander didn’t move, he couldn’t. All he could do was close his eyes against the light and hope that the visions would go away.

She’s my friend, he heard his voice keep repeating as the sights passed before his eyes. He could feel her pain at his rejection of her choices, he could hear his voice telling her to kick Angel’s ass when Willow had asked him to tell her to hang on. And what sort of friend had he been when she’d sent her first lover to hell? He’d hardly been supportive, had he? And he’d been so nasty when she’d come back to Sunnydale. He was totally ashamed of himself. How could he have agreed to Willow doing that spell to bring her back, he knew it was wrong, but he hadn’t wanted the responsibility of looking after Dawn any more… and he had to admit, with all his feelings overwhelming him, with the truth being displayed for him to see, that he had hoped that if she came back he’d have a chance with her. He had never even given Spike the credit for the help he’d given them over that dreadful summer. He’d just turned on the vampire as soon as Buffy had come back. He hadn’t wanted to, he’d just wanted the competition out of his way.

After the First he’d wanted to run; Anya was dead and there had been nothing for him. He started vomiting again when the memories of what he’d said when he’d found out about the baby resurfaced, how he’s cheered when she’d lost it - her. Tears wet his pillow when he thought about Buffy lying in a hospital bed, bleeding from the delivery as he and Giles, with Willow’s help, put the tiny coffin in an unmarked grave in a nameless cemetery. Buffy had begged him to tell her where her child was, but he’d refused. Booked a ticket for Africa, hidden behind Council business and refused to even talk to her. Xander couldn’t move, he’d shit and wet the bed, but all he knew was pain and sorrow.


Robin had spent his day trying to counsel the ex-potentials. Some were delighted at the thought of being normal again, but most felt at a total loss. The house had been designed around slayers, and now they couldn’t even lift the weights that were waiting for them in the gym. Then he’d had to try and liase with the soldiers from the Initiative: they were trying to keep the hellmouth in Cleveland under control. Demons were over-running much of down town LA as well. The phone call with Sam and Riley Finn was not an experience he’d wanted to repeat any time soon.

He hadn’t slept well the night before, a nightmare about trying to kill Spike, something he’d always regret after the way things turned out, but he’d soon fallen back to sleep. Faith however had been tossing and turning all night. She’d complained that she was totally on her own, and even with him holding her close, Faith had been scared he would leave. She had shaken all night and Robin had called the doctor first thing, worried about the baby as well as his beloved wife. The doctor was well known to the council, well versed in both normal and magical medicine, and could find nothing wrong. Whatever was affecting Faith was not physical, and there was nothing he could do to help.


Giles had made it into his room. He hadn’t got the strength to pull himself onto the bed and just gratefully sank into a heap, pulling the blanket from the chair and wrapping it around himself. He was cold and frightened, and the only image going through his mind was Buffy and the horror of the night they had thrown her out of her own home. What right had they had, did they have, to treat the slayer in such an unforgiving way? Thank god Spike had cared for her, after the debacle of the attack on the slayers that night they had been lucky that she had come back to them. Her devotion to the cause was so much greater than theirs. They couldn’t work with Spike, remembering all his previous sins, sins he had paid for time and time again, but she forgave them their errors and carried on working.

Giles never wanted to feel this bad ever again. If he survived he would beg on his knees for the vampire to forgive him, he’d buy the very best whisky he could just for Spike, and he would never say anything against either of them ever again. Giles felt another wave of despair roll over him and he sank deeper and deeper into that black well.

Merrick picked up the small new-born girl laying on the floor and looked into her eyes. The poor child had never felt love from her mother, and it had damaged her very soul, making her search for that connection from every one she met. He could feel the power entwined with her soul, coiling itself around her heart, waiting for her to grow up before unleashing itself again. She would be an incredibly powerful witch when she grew up; he would need a very special mother for this child.

Merrick stepped through the bright light that had appeared and carrying the child, headed towards the south of England and the Guardian of the Rollright stones. She would make the most wonderful, amazing mother and was powerful enough to control a young witch exploring her powers. Willow would have a loving, stable childhood, and a fantastic, loving, nuturing family to support her in the future.

Dawn was scared. She might have been able to play games with Buffy when she was growing up but she knew better than to cross Joyce when she spoke in that tone of voice. Dawn knew she was in trouble. Deep trouble. She wanted to bolt out of her window, down the drainpipe and away, but Joyce would only follow her. She knew it.
‘Mom…’ she started, hoping that by apologising she would get away with a lighter punishment.

‘Don’t you mom me young lady: just like the others you will live through the pain you gave your sister, you will see what it was like for Buffy, and then you can start to tell me how hard things were for poor Dawn.’

Joyce looked at the tears tracking down her younger child’s face but she had to stay strong, she had to. Buffy needed her to teach these self -obsessed people the lesson.

Spike couldn’t believe it. It had worked: his beloved Buffy was awake. He didn’t move for a few seconds, waiting for her to breathe again. He could feel her body warming underneath him, and then realised that the position they were in could lead to trouble for him. He wasn’t in the best place to defend himself if she was angry for what he’d done.

He had violated her, he knew it in his heart; he shouldn’t have made love to her. He loved her: with all his heart and soul he loved her, but he hadn’t had permission to be here, in heaven on earth, between Buffy’s legs. He reached across for Mr Pointy and put it gently into her hand.

‘I promised I would never hurt you again, and I have made love to you and you didn’t have the chance to say no. I swore if I ever raped you, hurt you, I would hand you the stake myself. Just make it quick pet, that’s all I ask.’

Buffy’s hand instinctively wrapped around the shaft; it still felt right in her fist. She looked up at Spike as he closed his eyes for a second, then opened those beautiful blue orbs and focused on her.

‘Want you face to be the last thing I see.’ The sound of his voice, the gentle, soft accepting of his fate broke her heart. How could he think she would hurt him? Could hurt him?

Buffy smiled and threw the stake away, hard. Hearing it bounce across the room she reached up, grabbed him by the neck and pulled him down into a long sensuous kiss.
‘The only staking around here is you staking me,’ she growled at the vampire as she lifted her hips and ground into his groin. ‘I love you, you stupid vampire, and I think I always have. Got to love that refractory period,’ she grinned at him as she felt him harden against her.

He couldn’t believe it, his body was reacting as it always had around her, but his brain hadn’t quite caught up. She hadn’t staked him… well, his blood never did flow north to his brain when she was around, just south to other parts. He was really lucky he didn’t have to think; he reacted instinctively to her movements and grinned as she started to moan underneath him. He stroked and nipped, listening with joy to the noises she was making, the sheer happiness nearly bringing him to tears.

Spike rubbed his cock against her nub and grinned as she whimpered with need. He hadn’t lost the old magic. At long last he could smell her arousal scenting the air, getting stronger and stronger. It was the best aphrodisiac in the world as far as he was concerned. He could feel his cock hardening with every indrawn breath he took. When she moaned underneath him, trying to get him to rub harder on her clit, even with him on the outside of her body he knew that she was nearing ecstasy: he could smell it, feel it, taste it in the air. He trailed his kisses down her neck to her breasts, licking and nibbling at the soft skin as he travelled down her body. Feeling the silky softness underneath his work-roughened hands, the way her body seemed to respond to his presence, his touch; he could feel the goosebumps following his caresses. His hands never stopped moving, touching, caressing, stroking her body, playing it like a maestro. It was the begging that got to him.

‘Please Spike, I need you, I need you in me; its been so long…’ Buffy lifted her hips again and tried to line up his cock with her entrance, but Spike kept teasing, pulling away from her, rubbing his cock up and down her belly, and across her, between her hips, watching as she thrashed from side to side, trying desperately to get some relief from the inferno that had set itself in her womb. When the begging became desperate and she was nearly in tears, Spike aligned himself with her core and embedded himself deeply within her. She was so hot that he feared he would ingnite with the heat, her slayer muscles gripping him hard, preventing him from moving at all, then she relaxed and pulled back slightly before slamming her body into his, then again, and again, and again…

‘Aren’t you going to join in?’ She asked with a sparkle in her eyes, ‘or do I have to do all the work?’

Spike grinned and stated his hips moving against her. He added the twist that used to send her crazy and his grin got bigger when he felt that it still did.

Buffy could feel spike’s cock piercing its way into her body; he was huge, but she didn’t stop, didn’t allow herself time to adjust to his girth. She needed him, all of him, and she thought she’d go mad with unfulfilled lust and desire as she tried to pull him deeper and deeper; when he started to respond, she could feel him hit that magical place deep within her body time after time, as she was driven closer and closer to the edge.

He moved his hand down between their bodies and found her clit, swollen, begging for his touch. He gave it a quick pinch, resulting in Buffy’s body and mind exploding into sheer unadulterated ecstasy. As she reached the pinnacle of her orgasm her teeth found his corded shoulder and bit deeply into the muscle as she screamed out her completion. It was enough to send the vampire over the edge and following her into bliss.

‘I love you!’ she screamed as she tasted the blood in her mouth. She knew it should freak her out, but biting him seemed so right, so perfect. She looked up into the beautiful azure blue eyes above her and felt such happiness; she didn’t think it was possible to be any happier, her heart was filled to bursting.

‘I do love you, you know,’’ Buffy repeated. ‘I always did. It was that I was just too frightened to say anything.’

Spike took a deep, uneven breath and buried his face in her neck. It was too much for the poet. The demon side of his nature tried to control the overload of emotion, but it too felt overwhelmed by all that William felt.

Buffy’s stomach started to growl, and Spike laughed. ‘You got a demon hiding in there, pet?’ he asked with a grin.

Buffy tried to control the giggling that threatened to bubble up, but another growl from her stomach was too much for the pair of them and they both dissolved into uncontrolled laughter.

Spike listened one more time to the growling of Buffy’s stomach before pulling his jeans towards himself. Buffy pouted as he slipped them on and pulled them up over his slim hips then slipped his docs onto his feet. He had sexy feet she thought as she watched him dress; how anyone could have sexy feet she didn’t know, but he did. They were pale and incredibly well shaped. So were his legs and his thighs, his abs, his pecs, shoulders… it always seemed like he had been carved from alabaster. Not marble that was cold and hard, but alabaster that shone with an inner light… then her stomach growled again and Spike lifted a sardonic eyebrow and did that thing with his tongue that made her melt and forget what she was supposed to be doing.

Her hunger started to bite though: this time when her stomach rumbled to itself it hurt. Buffy whimpered, and Spike changed from a playful idiot to a serious, concerned lover.

‘Enough slayer, you need food.’

He picked up his tee shirt and shrugged it over his chest before throwing Buffy a pair of panties that had been sitting on the floor.

‘These are dirty,’ she pouted again.

‘Just put ‘em on, Buffy, and I’ll give you a nice bath after I’ve fed you. Come on pet, time for dinner.’ She looked divine laying on the bed with her hair and clothes all messed. If it wasn’t for the fact that he could hear her stomach growling from across the room he’d give her another seeing to right now.

‘There’s clean ones in the drawer,’ she pointed to the half open chest and looked at him with the pout he never could resist. Spike picked up a black thong and sniffed it deeply.

‘Doesn’t smell of you properly yet pet: you sure you want these ones?’ he smirked.
Buffy nodded and caught the clean set as he threw them at her.

Spike looked at her and his heart melted, she was perfect in his eyes and always would be. He watched as she slipped on the underwear and straightened her skirt, then she picked up the packet of cigarettes and handed them over to him…

‘Don’t need these to remind me how you smell now,’ she told him with a soft smile.
He could feel her confusion, it came off her in waves scenting the air she was breathing.

‘What is it pet? What’s scaring you? The Big Bad won’t let anything happen to you , you know.’

‘Nothing, it’s just that everything seemed so bad, they even hurt Mr Gordo. And there was nothing I could do: I have never felt so useless or so helpless. And they wouldn’t leave me alone, they just wanted an obedient puppet who’d do as she was told, and I didn’t have the strength to fight. It was like I was empty inside.’

‘It’ll be ok pet, nothing can hurt you now, you’ve been rescued by prince charming,’ he grinned, watching her puzzled face. She was cute when she was like this, but he wished he could ease her soul. It crippled him to hear her in such pain, and he wished he could rip Rupert’s and Red’s heads off.

‘What do you mean, Spike?’ she said as she pulled down her shirt, tying it off where he’d ripped the buttons. Just being with him made her feel so much better and maybe next time they’d both be naked, she thought with a gentle smile. Spike held the door open for her, his Victoria upbringing rearing its head again, and followed her through the barrier to find the food.

‘I’ll explain everything while you’re eating, Goldilocks,’ he said as he followed her out of the door, shutting it carefully behind him. He could see the red glimmer of the barrier still in place. He put his hand through it, checking he could still return when he needed to. It was good to know her room was safe from whoever might be wandering around.

‘You’ll tell me everything?’ Her voice seemed quiet, fragile even. The amazing strength that had been the very hallmark of her fire seemed dimmed by the events that had happened since the fall of Sunnydale. He knew he had to relight that fire, bring back the spark into her eyes and her heart.

‘I’ll tell you everything I know pet, and by the way: that pig? It’s fixed.’ He opened the door again so that she could see the shelf where Mr Gordo sat in all his glory with the picture of Spike propped up on his leg. The pig seemed to be smirking at her, as though he knew secrets, but like always he wasn’t telling what he knew.

Buffy had taken just a step through the barrier when she was hit by the smell of vomit and urine everywhere. ‘What the hell?’ she started to say before a long forgotten voice answered her.

‘Sorry about that Buffy, I haven’t cleaned up properly yet.’

‘Merrick? Merrick!’ she squealed in delight and she leapt towards him. Spike suddenly realised that the pitch Dawn could reach was genetic. He felt a little jealous at the welcome the man, ghost, man was getting, but smiled indulgently as the other man winced with the strength of the hug he was given.

‘If you go down stairs to the kitchen Buffy, you’ll find a nice butterfly chicken and the trimmings waiting for you, and Spike, there is some fresh blood in the fridge, it’s the good stuff, AB+ from a reputable dealer.’

Spike nodded his thanks: it was kind of the late watcher to think of him as well as Buffy. Buffy who was still holding onto the man just squeezed a little harder, making Merrick go quite pale.

‘Ribs, Buffy, ribs!’ He managed to gasp out.

‘Oops, Sorry,’ the slayer said as she released the pressure; luckily nothing had broken under the onslaught. Merrick smiled indulgently. ‘And Buffy, there’s ice cream in the freezer, Ben and Jerry’s, double chocolate.’ He added with a smile. ‘We’ll talk later poppet, you go off with the vampire because I seem to have a lot of clearing up, mind you personally I think I should leave it for Giles to sort out himself,’ he added with a shrug.

‘Would prefer it if you didn’t wait that long, vampire sense of smell is not something you want when someone else has pissed ‘emselves,’ Spike commented as he took Buffy’s hand and led her towards the food he could smell.

‘Ewww,’ was all Buffy could think or say as she trailed on behind Spike.



Buffy stopped outside Dawn’s room quite suddenly, making the vampire come up short. She could hear someone crying, howling as though their heart was breaking. It was Dawnie. Buffy started to head for the door but Spike stopped her.

‘Your mum’s in there pet, she’s giving your sis a talking to,’ Spike said gently, lacing his fingers with hers and bringing them up to his mouth: some judicious nibbling of her fingers and Buffy just might not barge in there like an avenging angel.

‘What, mom? And talking to?’ she tried to follow what Spike had said to her, but her brain seemed to want to reject the words.

‘Well that bit’s my fault, I made a wish that they would feel the pain they’d put you through, all of them, and it was granted. I just wanted them to know what it felt like, all the messing they’d done to you, the pain they’d put you through…’ he looked a little guilty, as though she was going to shout at him.

‘Riley? Xander?’ She asked, still trying to absorb all that she had been told.

‘And Faith, Robin and Willow.’ He didn’t want to miss anyone in case his memory wrote checks his nose would have to cash when she finally thought it all through. He had to tell her the truth now, he might not get another chance.

‘Oh,’ was the surprisingly restrained reply.

‘You’re not angry with me?’ She should be surely? Her so-called ‘friends’ were getting tormented and she hadn’t lost her temper yet and Spike couldn’t quite believe it. It seemed unlike her normal surly behaviour.

Buffy shrugged. ‘I should be I suppose, but if they are feeling what they dealt to me and nothing more than that, then if they didn’t deal anything they won’t feel it. Now more importantly, where’s that ice cream?’

She pulled him forward without a backward glance at the room where Joyce was talking to her youngest.

They’d both finished their meal and were sharing the tub of ice cream, a spoon each, giggling and play fighting with the spoons. Buffy was getting more than her fair share, Spike was ensuring that, his golden queen was looking scrawny and he knew what she was like: if she was upset, she’d stop eating, and the wankers upstairs hadn’t even noticed so he’d be the one to build her up again. It made him so made he wished he could rip their heads off, then Spike remembered what was happening to the said wankers at that very moment and grinned quietly to himself.

‘So why haven’t you lost it with me yet Pet? I was expecting at least a little bitching by now.’ Spike asked between mouthfuls of his ice cream. He was dipping his spoon in a blood sauce before licking the confection off completely, making sure it was clean before trying to get some more of the ice cream.

‘Spoons off, Mr, you’ve had blood on that and it’s going nowhere near my boys.’

‘Your boys?’ he did the eyebrow thing that always made her melt.

‘Ben and Jerry,’ she smiled at him, but he could smell her arousal and her heart was speeding up, every beat seemed to echo around his head. Buffy spooned a little, a very little, of the ice cream into a separate bowl and handed it to him.

‘You can poison that lot,’ she pointed, keeping the tub for herself.

‘You don’t want to share?’ He joked as he waved another spoonful of the blood and ice cream in her face.

‘That would be a NO,’ Buffy replied, fighting off his spoon and protecting her treasured tub.

After a few more minutes clowning, Buffy looked up at her lover.

‘After I took the potion, and I still don’t know why it didn’t kill me, I floated around the room for what seemed like weeks, and had time to think. I could hear them outside the door: Willow, Dawnie and Giles. Xander sort of gave up and left after a few days, he thought that he would be needed elsewhere, and just left… and the others, their thoughts were like they were shouting at me. I could see them clearly for the first time, and it hurt. Willow was angry at me for doing something for myself without her permission…permission, like she was my mother! Xander just thought that if I was dead he’d have no chance to screw me, and wished he’d managed it when he’d been taken over by the hyena spirit. I was so stupid, I honestly believed he hadn’t remembered a thing about that, and it had formed the basis of most of his fantasies. Dawnie was just full of herself, yes she was upset, but she still had thoughts about how it would affect her plans with The Immortal, and Giles was upset but more worried about what was happening to the other Slayers, and why I had done something so stupid…where ever I looked there was no real grief, and then I thought about you, staying in LA when you knew I loved you.’

‘I didn’t know, pet,’ he reached a hand across and took hers gently in his.

‘But I told you,’ Buffy started: she couldn’t believe he hadn’t believed her.

‘Yes I know you did luv, but I thought you were being kind to the dying man, didn’t think you meant it, and then I got to helping Angel, felt like I was wanted for me, not just my strength or fighting ability, but for me.’

‘And mom? What’s she doing here?’

‘Saving me and having a word with Dawn: seems she wasn’t too impressed with her youngest, and when she and Merrick pulled me out of the fight in LA I thought it was the First. She soon put me straight, then they said I was to come and wake you up…true love’s first shag. Seemed to work perfectly.’

Buffy looked at the mischief in his eyes and hit him, gently, on the arm…

‘Hardly the first shag, Spike!’

‘I wasn’t going to tell your mum that bit, was I? Too handy with an axe she is for me to be telling her I’d already sullied her daughter. Just think yourself lucky Buffy: in the original tale the girl woke up after giving birth to twins!!’

Buffy smiled at the vampire and took another spoonful of the ice cream, the tub seemed nearly empty, but she was getting full anyway.

‘How did you bring me back? And how come I wasn’t actually dead?’

‘I tasted the venom in your blood when I bit you and drew it out, and as for not dead, it was close enough for my liking: no pulse, no breath. Scared me it did, seeing you like that again.’

She could hear the pain in his voice. ‘I never want to see you like that again, Buffy; next time you try something this stupid I’ll kill you myself and then lie down and wait for dawn.’

‘That threat would sound more real-ish if you didn’t keep saving my ass and weren’t wearing the Gem of Amara,’ she smiled up, her green eyes beginning to lose the shadows that had haunted them.

‘You won’t see it again, Spike,’ Merrick said from the doorway. ‘The Powers didn’t realise that Willow had screwed up so badly when she cast the spell on the scythe releasing the essence of the Slayers because that’s not what she did. She tapped into the power of the scythe to release the power from Buffy: she’s been feeding power into all the potentials. It’s one of the reasons you’ve been so tired Buffy, why you felt there was no future for you.’

‘Why couldn’t I die?’ Buffy asked softly, but some of the pain seemed to have left her voice.

‘Because you’ve been claimed by the Aurleus line. You’ve been bitten by three of the masters of that line, and each time they bit you they claimed a piece of you, but you claimed a piece of them as well…and the third vampire was the doozy…Spike loved you so much with or without his soul.’ He looked towards the blond vampire who was squirming in his chair. ‘And he didn’t just drink from you, he revelled in being with you, when he um, urgh, um…’

‘Spit it out Merrick,’ Spike said, amusement dancing in his eyes at the old watcher’s discomfort. The man went quite red and refused to look at either Buffy or Spike…

‘When I what??’ Spike asked again. ‘Shagged her?’ he suggested.

‘Um yes, that’s it, when you, um, and bit her, the um…’

‘Double penetration?’ Spike added helpfully, watching the man getting more and more uncomfortable.

‘Spike you’re a pig,’ Buffy told him as she watched the poor man squirm.

‘Oink oink… anyway you like pigs, you sleep with pigs… look at Mr Gordo!’ he laughed.

‘Yes, well; that on top of being brought out of heaven slightly changed, the cellular sunburn Tara told you about, it was your immortality shining through, you were an immortal creature, so Spike could hit you - amongst other things.’ Merrick continued, trying to ignore the banter going on between the two blonds.

‘You keep talking about Willow, but where is she?’ Buffy suddenly asked, realising that no-one had mentioned the witch at all. ‘Cause you told me about Giles and Dawnie and even Xander,’ she looked straight at Spike, ‘but no-one has mentioned Willow.’

‘She’s not here,’ Merrick told her as gently as he could. He had no desire to have Spike’s wish be brought down on his head.

‘She’s not dead, is she?’ Buffy put down the spoon she had been licking, which had been distracting Spike every time he looked at the magical things her tongue was doing.

‘No: no, not dead, quite the opposite in fact, when we looked into her heart we realised that she was incapable of feeling any remorse for her actions, she would take no responsibility at all, it seemed it was always someone else’s fault, so we gave her back her youth. She has become a baby again, and we have given her to a lovely woman who will raise her with a pure heart and surrounded by love, and fully trained in her gifts.’

Buffy went silent for a moment. ‘There was no help for her?’

‘Not as things stood, she just would not listen. She knew better than anyone else, and we couldn’t get through to her at all.’

‘I hope the others listen, ‘cause I wouldn’t want to be responsible for raising Giles or Xander!’ Buffy said, grinning at the thought of a baby Giles.

Merrick looked at his old charge. ‘I know things have been really hard for you Buffy, but they will get easier, honestly they will. And when your mother has finished with Dawn she will come down and talk to you and answer all your questions.’

Joyce looked at her youngest child and felt no pity. Dawn was lying on her bed crying silently, the tears rolling down her face and onto the pillow with nothing stopping them. Joyce picked up a magazine and made herself comfortable in the chair. She felt torn: one part of her wanted to comfort her child, the other part of her knew that Dawn had to face this trial and grow.

‘Mommy,’ a voice said from under the covers, ‘it hurts…’

‘I know it does Baby, but you have to work through it; the sooner you own up to your mistakes with your sister the sooner this will be over.’

‘Please make it stop,’ Dawn whimpered.

‘I can’t Dawnie, I can’t; and if I did, what would you learn? You would still try and manipulate her, use her love for you against her, like you did in Rome when you knew Angel and Spike were on their way. How could you set her up like that? I am quite ashamed of you.’

‘Morty said it was a joke…he just wanted to play a trick on Spike,’ she whined, ‘just a joke.’

‘So your new boyfriend wants you to play a cruel joke on your sister, and you go along with it, as though her feelings aren’t important…’ Joyce said in her driest voice, making Dawn feel very uncomfortable. She tried to think up an excuse that would work, but the pain in her chest got worse, as though it knew she was about to try and wriggle out of her guilt.

‘And can I ask what all the stealing was about? I brought you up better than that, Dawn Summers.’

‘You didn’t bring me up at all, it was all false, a load of memories shoved in your heads by a bunch of monks trying to hide me!’ Dawn sounded bitter as she ranted at her mother, and Joyce looked into the woman’s soul and saw the pain that she was in. Time to start dishing it back out.

‘Very well, if you are going to be difficult about this, yes the memories were false, but Buffy loved you enough to lay down her life for you, give up everything for you. And Spike, he took a beating that nearly killed him to protect you, so do you really think their love was false? They knew who you are, and who you were, and they still loved you enough to sacrifice everything to protect you. Was it duty or love that kept one of the scourge of Europe by your side all that summer when Buffy lay in the ground? No: it was love.’

The tears started down Dawn’s face again as she was made to feel Spike’s pain at losing Buffy; her cries and whimpers started to lessen after only a few hours and Joyce spent the time bathing her face with a cool cloth…when it was obviously easing, Joyce took a deep breath and let it out again.

‘What about when you threw her out of the house before the final battle, standing with Giles and against your own sister; really Dawn, that was just petty, you were told by the First that Buffy wouldn’t be with you, protecting you, in the final battle, and you believed her? How could you be so stupid?’

‘But it nearly came true, didn’t it?’ Dawn managed.

‘Only because you made it happen you silly child! Now you stay here and think about what you’ve done, and you can come back down when you’re really ready to apologise to your sister, and ready to make amends.’

Joyce turned and left the room without a backward glance, leaving Dawn sobbing her heart out on the bed.

Buffy was curled up comfortably in Spike’s arms watching TV, or at least watching the shadows flicker across the screen. The lights were dimmed and all she could feel was his hand rubbing slow, comforting circles on her back. Buffy was nearly asleep, safe from the nightmares and dreams that had plagued her before she had taken the potion. No nightmare would dare attack with William the Bloody on guard. She dozed quietly, knowing the one place a slayer shouldn’t feel safe was in the arms of a vampire, but it was the one place in all the world she did feel totally secure.

She thought back to the previous week, ever since she woke up to find Spike with her. They had spent the whole week just getting to know one another again, most of it in bed, making love. Buffy loved the two sides of Spike’s personality: part strong warrior, fierce, strong, passionate, and part gentle, loving considerate poet. He had catered to her every physical need, giving her comfort as well as love. Merrick had kept them supplied with food and drink, and plenty of ice cream and occasionally they had ventured from their room long enough to actually talk with Joyce and the old watcher about what was happening.

Dawn and Giles were left to stew literally in their own juice. Basic supplies of food and water were left just inside the room, but no-one went to help them. They weren’t allowed to. The pair had to suffer the complete loneliness and helplessness Buffy had suffered for years, but they had to suffer it in just one week.

Over a bottle of a rather nice burgundy one evening - who would have guessed that Spike knew his vintages and his vineyards?- Joyce and Merrick started talking about the mess that had brought them back to earth.

‘I missed you when you arrived in heaven the first time Buffy, I’m sorry about that,’ Joyce said, looking deeply into the red wine.

‘Why did you? And where were you?’ Buffy asked. She had loved seeing her mother again and they had spent time catching up with one another; Spike had been out four times for supplies to make hot chocolate and pancakes.

‘I was getting debriefed about my time on earth, and you weren’t expected: you shouldn’t have jumped,’ her mother started to explain, sipping at her wine and watching her eldest daughter’s reactions to what she was saying.

‘Well I wasn’t going to sacrifice Dawn, was I?’ Buffy sounded a little annoyed: why did everyone think she could kill Dawn? She was her sister, for heaven’s sake!

‘No, but neither of you needed to die. All Spike needed to do was drink deeply from the pair of you and jump through the portal; it was the blood that closed it, Buffy, not one of you two dying.’


‘What? All I had to do was bite ‘em?’ Spike asked, putting his glass down on the table in front of Buffy. His hand was shaking and Spike wasn’t sure if it was shock or anger.

‘And drain a good bit, but unfortunately Travers didn’t pass on all the information he had: the stupid Council of Watchers and their outdated and outmoded attitudes, they always thought they knew better than the Powers. It’s one of the reasons we were sent back.’

‘To sort out the council?’ Buffy asked. ‘But I thought Giles was doing that.’

‘Ah yes, Rupert Giles,’ Merrick said coldly, ‘the same Rupert Giles that thought putting you through the Cruciamentum was a good idea? Or the one that tried to have the best warrior who ever fought at your side killed, winding up the son of another slayer to do it for him? Or the one who left a very powerful witch untrained and alone when she was coming into her gifts? Just the sort of person who should be in charge don’t you think?’ Merrick snorted and was about to rant again when he saw Buffy’s face. ‘He did and does love you, Buffy, he just needs a slight attitude adjustment,’ Merrick added, softening his approach a little.

‘That’s what the initiative did to Spike, attitude adjustment… I’m not going to be a part of torturing my friends.’ Buffy sat up straight, looking from her mother to her first watcher and back.

‘Buffy!’ Joyce snapped, ‘how could you think I would be a part of something so evil?’

Buffy started to feel a little guilty, but still nervous about the plans that the people in front of her had for her friends.

‘And no one wants you to,’ Merrick answered at the same time. ‘They are just being made to see what their actions really meant to you, how it added up to a lot of trouble and heartache; it’s what normally happens when you reach heaven, only this time it’s being done before they leave this life.’

Buffy snuggled back into Spike’s embrace and reached for her wine. Taking a sip she enjoyed the rich, full-bodied taste before putting the glass down again and closing her eyes. She could feel the eyes boring into her.

‘What?’ she looked around at Spike.

‘You’ve just drunk my blood, pet,’ Spike said slowly, not wanting a pissed-off slayer so close to his nose.

‘That was my wine, I know I don’t drink very often, but it was my wine!’ the pleading need was obvious in her voice.

‘No pet, it was my blood, honestly,’ Spike answered quietly.

‘It’s ok baby,’ Joyce was smiling, ‘you occasionally will need extra blood, especially when you get pregnant.’

‘I’m pregnant? How?’ Buffy sounded almost panic stricken and Spike felt his heart sink: she didn’t want his child. He could hear her heart pounding in her chest and he cursed his preternatural hearing. Spike lowered his head and turned his face so that she couldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

‘No you’re not, well as far as I know anyway, but your slayer side needs the odd transfusion… you used to get them from Giles, and before you ask he didn’t know, it happened when you were asleep and magic gave you some of his blood; it was why you felt so weak when he was away from you,’ Merrick continued to explain.

‘Magic? I hate magic,’ Spike growled, ‘there is always a cost.’

‘Well the cost has always been the same, locking watcher and slayer together. Giles didn’t know about it, few did, and those that did weren’t telling. And as for getting pregnant…well, it’s the same way any other woman would,’ Joyce smiled at her daughter.

‘But vampires can’t have children,’ Buffy stuttered out.

‘I would love to know who started that rumour off because vampires are quite capable of fathering a child, provided, and I’ve said this before, they don’t eat the mother,’ Joyce explained very patiently.

‘But Angel?’ Buffy had to know.

Spike choked at the brooding one’s name being mentioned: he hated the thought that Angel was first in Buffy’s thoughts.

Joyce just laughed. ‘When he died he had gonorrhoea and syphilis as well as herpes and genital warts: just be grateful the idiot was dead and incapable of passing on any disease to you - and he was incapable of fathering a child long before Darla got her fangs into him. I have a good memory, dear, and I know I talked to you about safe sex…’ she tried to hide the laughter at Buffy’s face.

‘Ewww, and to think I was stupid enough to think I even liked him and I thought I was being safe; how much safer can you be than your other half being dead?’

‘Obviously a lot safer: female vampires have difficulty in conceiving, their body normally rejects the foetus because it draws strength from the mother. But Darla had Connor, even if she had to die to give him life, and Spike, you are the only family that poor young man has left now, it might be nice to track him down and see if he needs any support.’

Spike nodded, it was a good thought, and something he should have considered already.

‘But back to you Buffy,’ Joyce continued. ‘Yes you can get pregnant by Spike, the resulting child is called a dhampir, and has been well known throughout history. They are mentioned regularly, they have souls, and all the strengths of their fathers with none of the weaknesses; they are day walkers, live very long lives, and can even take communion, crosses, holy water, none of it affects them. They do tend to be boys, although girls have been known and are considered a particular blessing.’

Buffy had tears in her eyes. Spike could see them when she turned to face him, his heart breaking; she was upset at the thought of having his child. He tensed his muscles, ready to stand up and move away from her.

‘You realise what this means Spike? We can have children, a real life, with kids that are really ours! A little boy with brown curls and blue eyes, just like his daddy…’

‘You want children? I didn’t think you ever did. You asked about Angel, and I thought…’

‘Stupid vampire,’ she said, her voice full of love, ‘I only want your children, lots of them, boys and girls who look like their daddy.’ God he can be so insecure, she thought to herself as she started dreaming of a houseful of kids running around, making their lives so complicated.

‘And their mum, she’s a beauty their mum,’ Spike added, looking down at Buffy before kissing her gently, his tongue stroking the crease of her lips, begging for entrance. Even his demon thought that breeding with Buffy was a good idea, a strong woman in every sense, his equal, his Queen. William adored her, every hair on her head, every inch of her body, he worshiped her totally and completely.

Merrick and Joyce left the couple alone and went into the kitchen to fetch more snacks. They could see the tears falling down Spike’s cheeks and certainly didn’t want to embarrass the poor man; little did they know or even suspect that it was not the man, but the demon that had broken down. It was only the soul that kept him from howling and taking her there and then.

Spike kissed her softly, butterfly wings brushing over her lips. Buffy deepened the kiss, sucking his tongue deep within her mouth, completely ignoring the audience they had, not realising that they had already left the room. Spike kissed her deep and hard, needing the contact.

‘When do you want to start on this family then?’ His eyes were full of mischief.

‘Tonight seems like a good idea,’ Buffy smiled as Spike swept her up into his arms and made for the stairs.

Willow climbed down from the bus and looked around: as far as she could see this place was like any other small town in America, but her beloved Rachael Mama had said she was to come here for the spring break from college. Willow had been so excited when she’d been accepted to MIT two years ago, specialising in computers and maths. It had been a great adventure to go back to the country of her birth for the first time. Rachael had been a wonderful foster mother, loving, kind and powerful. She had taught Willow all about the balance between light and dark, good and evil and love and hate, and Willow had known she was truly loved and special.

It was getting dark, and she wanted to get to a hotel before night truly fell. Rachael had booked her into the Wintervale lodge for two whole weeks. The woods nearby had some amazing walks in them, and the brochure said that she could hire bikes or horses to explore the countryside.

She picked up her bag and headed towards the taxi rank. It seemed empty and she felt in her pocket for the vial of Holy water she always carried with her. The cross around her neck had been blessed by her darling Rachael as a good luck gift when she’d left home.

The peace of the evening had her reminiscing about her strange upbringing; she knew all about the fostering of her by Rachael, how Merrick had brought her to England as a baby. She loved Merrick, he had visited her over the years, helping her control the powers that coursed through her veins and soul. She’d need those powers here: she could feel demons around her, and was scared, but she wouldn’t attack. She knew better than that, she could defend herself, yes, but she would only defend herself, never attack, and never, never, never use it to manipulate the world around her or make the world bend to her will.

‘Can I help you?’ a voice said from behind her, causing her to turn and put up a protective barrier. Standing there was a beautiful blond woman a couple of years younger than she was, dressed in swirling skirts and a peasant blouse, also holding a weekend bag. Her piercing blue eyes seemed to see straight into Willow’s soul. Willow sensed that the woman wasn’t purely human, but whatever the mix was it should be mixed more often.

‘I’m waiting for a taxi,’ Willow said carefully, ‘there should be one along in a minute or two.’

She felt uneasy standing alone in the darkening twilight, but the woman made no move towards her, and Willow could see the soul shining out from the stranger.

‘My dad’s picking us up: I’m home for spring break, he could give you a lift if you like. I’m Tara,’ the girl held out her hand, ‘and that’s Anya my sister.’ She pointed at an identical girl who was dressed in black leather, smoking a cigarette in the shelter of the bus station.

A black people carrier pulled in to the space clearly marked ‘reserved’ and a slim blond man got out. Willow sent out her normal scry, only to have the reply returned ‘Vampire’ - and master vampire at that. They were in danger. She took a firm hold on the holy water and turned to the two girls.

‘He’s not who you think any more: run!’ she yelled, but the girls were running - towards the being with the piercing blue eyes and swirling leather coat.

‘Daddy!’ Anya squealed and hugged onto him tightly, Tara waiting patiently for her turn. The vampire held out his free arm and she took her place at his side.

‘How are my two best eldest daughters?’ he asked, kissing both girls on the cheek. He picked up their bags and effortlessly threw them into the back of the truck. ‘Anya, don’t smoke in the house, your mother doesn’t like it…’ he looked at the girl in black leather very pointedly.

‘Dad,’ Tara pointed to Willow, ‘she’s waiting for a cab; could we drop her off please?’

Willow was backing away, and Spike looked at her properly for the first time

‘Willow? Red?’ He moved forward and watched the girl skitter backwards. ‘She’s pulling power, Dad,’ Anya said quietly.

‘Not going to hurt you, pet.’ He reached for a cell phone and flipped it open; dialling a number he spoke quickly into it. ‘Need a cab to the bus station immediately, human driver,’ he snapped the phone closed. ‘No-one’s going to hurt you pet, just going to wait here quietly with you until the cab arrives, so you feel safe; then you can go where you’re headed.’ He looked over at the girl, a girl he hadn’t seen in twenty years.

‘You’re a vampire,’ she whispered.

‘Dad’s the Master of Wintervale, in fact he’s one of the three masters in the whole of the USA,’ Anya boasted.

‘Not helping, platelet,’ he grinned at his daughter, ‘poor girl’s nervous enough as it is. Don’t need to scare her any more than we have already with me not having a pulse.’

Anya snorted and climbed into the waiting car, but Tara walked slowly towards the red haired witch. ‘He won’t hurt you,’ she said gently to the obviously scared girl.

‘He’s a vampire,’ Willow repeated, as though it were some sort of mantra.

‘Yeah, well he’s sort of fangless now,’ Tara looked at her father, especially when he gave an indignant cry.

‘Remind me why I didn’t eat you when you were born!’

‘Cause Mom would have staked you, and she can still kick your ass when she’s pissed at you,’ came the bored reply from inside the car.

‘Language, Anya,’ the vampire said on automatic.

‘How did you know my name?’ Willow managed to ask, eventually overcoming her fear and shyness.

‘Knew you before, pet, counted you as a friend at one time. My wife loved you and knowing her, she would love to see you again. If you want to see us, ask any cab for the Master’s house, and he’ll bring you to us.’

The cab drew up as they were speaking and a young man climbed out to help Willow with her bag. ‘She’s under my protection,’ the vampire told the driver before handing Tara into his own vehicle and pulling away. Willow got into the car on automatic and didn’t hear the driver ask ‘Where to?’ the first time. She eventually remembered to tell him which hotel and spent the drive pondering over the strangest encounter she’d ever had, and she’d had a few in her life. It would be something amazing to tell Rachael when she emailed her tomorrow.

Next day saw the young witch standing outside a shop called the Magic Box. It was the sort of place she loved to browse, and Rachael had sent her money for her vacation. She pushed open the door, listening to the tinkle of the bell as it called an older man from the back.

He spoke before he looked up. ‘Can I help you?’ he asked, finally taking his attention away from the book in his hands.

‘Just browsing,’ she answered and his eyes darted to her face.

‘Willow?’ Giles knew he was standing there with his mouth wide open looking like an idiot but he couldn’t help it. ‘My dear, how wonderful to see you again!’

‘You know me?’ Willow managed to say before she found herself being hugged by the older man.

‘Well yes, at least I did 20 years ago. Before we all got ‘our arses handed to us big style,’ as one of my younger friends put it. It is wonderful to see you, oh I’ve already said that, but it’s so true it’s worth repeating. Would you like some tea?’

Willow nodded, trying to take it all in. Rachael had told her there would be answers, but this was weird. She followed Giles into the back office and watched as he went through the ritual of making tea. A pot was warmed and leaves added; it was a soothing sight for a woman raised in England.

They were sharing the drink before Willow spoke again. ‘What is it with this place? There was a vampire last night, but he wasn’t attacking anyone: he was picking up his daughters. At least that’s what the girls said…’

‘That would be Anya and Tara, they’re Dhampirs and adored by their parents. They’ve just started college; I suppose they are home for the break?’

Willow nodded, and looked around the room. It was filled with books and grimoires that she would love to read; the cabinet in the corner had an axe sticking out of the door. What sort of shop is this? she thought to herself.

‘In that case I had better get some more cakes in, those girls eat me out of house and home every time they visit.’

‘You know them well then?’ Willow tried to understand what she was being told but it all seemed confusing.

‘Very well, very well indeed. I gave Buffy, their mother, away at her wedding, and was actually the one to drive her to hospital when they were born. Spike had been out dealing with a problem Kathanti Demon who was prowling around and breaking the rules the Master had laid down about living here…’

‘Rules? Master? A vampire having children? Believe me, I’m confused girl here!’ Willow giggled.

‘When we defeated the First and the hellmouth at Sunnydale collapsed we thought that Spike had died. Buffy was distraught… I don’t know if I should be telling you all this…’

‘Please!’ Willow begged, ‘Rachael said there were answers here, answers to questions about my life, and the reason I was given another chance, I just have to know!’ Willow turned her eyes up to the man. ‘Please!’

‘If it gets too much you must tell me and I will stop,’ Giles said and Willow nodded her agreement, taking another sip of the tea in her hand.

‘Buffy is the slayer: you know what they are?’
Willow nodded again, the tea easing any tension she felt.

‘And she had a group of friends who she really loved, but when it came down to it, we didn’t love her as much, we betrayed her, and manipulated her. Willow, our Willow, used magic to make people around her do as she wanted…’

Willow looked horrified. ‘But the balance, the goddess’ rules…’

‘That was my fault, I didn’t train her properly, I left her to find out about her gifts by herself, and I blamed myself for what happened; are you sure you’re ok?’

Willow nodded again and put her mug down. ‘Please carry on,’ she asked. ‘Rachael has told me some of this but I need to know, this was my life and although she’s been fantastic, I know that I really messed up.’

‘You did; we all did. Buffy suffered far more than she should have; the only person who stood by her the whole time, the only person who never let her down, was Spike, a vampire, who had killed two slayers and came to Sunnydale to make Buffy his third, but her spirit, her goodness, shone out and he changed, became one of the good guys and none of us believed it; even when she died saving her sister, he stayed to protect Dawn.’

‘I’ve met Dawn, she came to visit my foster mum and the Rollright Stones. She was an amazing lady: calm, serene, and peaceful, she showed me how to call fire from ice, and her husband Connor was charming; I think Rachael has a soft spot for him.’

‘Dawn is a very skilful witch, and practises hard. The trial we had to undergo made us all re-evaluate our lives: Dawn split up with her boyfriend at the time very soon afterwards, she saw how shallow he had been, and he disapproved of her new seriousness.’

‘And Buffy: did she undergo the trial?’

‘No, oh no, she was protected, she had tried to commit suicide, but she is an immortal being so it didn’t work. She had been through hell because of us: she lost a child, a precious, much wanted child, and we gave her no support, just punished her for mourning the death of her lover and her child.’

‘I didn’t think vampires could have children?’ Willow was trying to understand what she was being told.

‘It’s not well known, we all thought magic had been involved with the first pregnancy, but found out later that vampires can father children, mostly boys, but it’s supposed to be rare… however, Spike and Buffy have two girls, whom you have met, and three boys, as well as another set of twins on the way.’

‘That’s quite a family; aren’t they scared about the children being targeted?’

‘You’ll have to ask them about that, but I pity anyone or anything that tries to harm any of their children. Buffy may not be the world’s only slayer any more - there are about fifty dotted here and there - but she is the longest lived, and Spike is a master vampire with a mean temper when crossed. On top of that the children have a vengeance angel for a grandmother… and Wintervale runs under different rules. If you don’t cause trouble you can stay; if you are out for mischief, God help you because no one else will. Look, its nearly lunch time: I’m going to shut up shop and drive you over there. Buffy will be delighted to see you.’

‘Thanks: are you sure its not too much trouble?’ Willow asked; she didn’t want to cause any fuss. ‘I can grab a cab if you give me the address.’

‘No trouble at all, I need to get some paperwork from my house, and it’s just around the corner from Buffy’s place; comes in useful when I baby sit,’ the older man grinned. The memories of helping to take care of Buffy and Spike’s family while the parents took some grown-up time always brought a smile to his face. He led the way out of the shop, locking up behind himself and opened the door to a red sports car that had been parked outside.

Giles dropped her off at the entrance to a large family home set in beautiful gardens: she could hear sounds of laughter and splashing coming from one side and there were a few very nice cars and a couple of motorbikes parked in the driveway.

‘I don’t care what you said Spike, I am going out tonight and I’m going to the party with the girls…’ the voice was coming towards her, and she turned to see a short, blond and obviously pregnant woman, wrapped in a sarong and swimsuit, waddling towards her along the path. That must be Buffy, thought Willow. She was being followed by the vampire from last night; Willow wasn’t sure which bit surprised her the most, the fact that a master vampire was being so patient with the pregnant woman, or the fact that he was walking around in the daylight. She checked her pocket again to make sure her crucifix was still there and made her way slowly towards the couple. Buffy looked up and couldn’t believe her eyes.

‘Willow!’ she yelled before running, slowly, towards the witch. ‘How are you? Spike said there might be a surprise today, but I can’t believe you’re here, come on inside and meet everyone!’ Buffy pulled at her arm, leading her towards the front door that stood wide open and welcoming.

Willow felt a little overwhelmed, she didn’t know these people, yet they knew her. She dragged her feet just a little...

Spike came up slowly, quietly, he had no wish to spook the young girl who knew what he was and judged him by it. But she hadn’t attacked him last night, she had just warned his daughters and tried to protect them. That spoke volumes about her to the master vampire.

‘Hi luv: you made it here OK then?’ Willow nodded slowly.

‘I’m glad. The blond whirlwind that has grabbed you so firmly is my wife Buffy, the one I was telling you about.’

Buffy turned, open-mouthed. ‘God, I’m sorry: you don’t remember us, do you? I’m Buffy, and we were friends in high school and college, in fact we roomed in college, and this is my husband, Spike.’

‘The vampire?’ Willow said slowly.

‘Yep, the vampire, he’s ok though, doesn’t bite unless you beg really nicely.’

Willow blushed as the look that passed between the two blonds made the hidden meaning only too obvious.

‘Come on in and meet the madhouse,’ Buffy said, ‘and that’s just the kids!’ The blond man just laughed and made his way to the front door.

Willow looked around her. The place seemed like a normal family home: pictures lining the stairs showed children growing up, and there were toys everywhere. There was an office behind the stairs and an older man was puttering about tidying up books, with a couple of boys trying to help him. The boys were carrying piles that seemed far too big for their small frames, but they seemed to be having no problems.

Buffy led the way into a brightly-lit kitchen overlooking a beautiful garden where a five year old boy was playing with a huge dog. There were pictures here too, drawings made at kindy as well as original works of art, and a huge photomontage of people, in the middle of which was her face. Her hair was longer, and the eyes a little more haunted, but it was her.

‘That’s me,’ she stammered, looking closely at the picture, trying to believe what her eyes were telling her.

‘Yes: Willow it is, and that’s Xander, your best friend from school first time round. He’s in Africa watching over a problem place,’ Buffy explained, pointing to the handsome man whose arm was wrapped around her shoulder.

‘A Hellmouth?’ Willow asked, looking at the other faces in the pictures.

‘You know about those?’

Willow nodded. ‘Merrick used to come and tell me stories, Rachael used to get so cross with him.’ She smiled at the memories that surfaced.

‘Rachael?’ Spike asked, making sure he stayed a good distance from the still frightened woman. He could hear her heart beating too fast and too hard.

‘My foster mum,’ the red head explained. It sounded peculiar to hear Willow with an English accent but it suited her somehow.

‘And now you’re here, for a vacation?’

‘Rachael said I was supposed to come: she said the answers I sought would be answered where light and dark stay together in the winter valley - she’s like that sometimes. She tends to speak in riddles to make you think for yourself.’ Willow moved towards the breakfast bar and sat where Buffy had placed a soda down for her.

‘Well, he’s the dark and I’m traditionally held to be the light,’ Buffy said, pouring herself a glass of fresh fruit juice. ‘I’m a slayer.’

‘The slayer.’ The vampire objected to the word ‘A.’

‘A slayer,’ she repeated, ‘there were thousands at one time, but after an incident, most didn’t regain their powers, just a chosen few. They took their places around the world, supported by a backroom staff of assistants, researchers, and back up. Spike and I married, and moved here…’

‘And I took up my place as a master of the Auralian line.’ Spike added, fixing himself a mug of something from the fridge, the ping of the microwave breaking into the conversation… ‘and you are supposed to be resting, Buffy, especially if you are determined to go out tonight!’

‘Too right I’m going, Dawn wants a Scoobie night out, dancing, partying and pulling our partners to pieces; you are out anyway, so what’s the problem?’

‘The problem is you are seven and a half months pregnant with twins and are supposed to rest: you know, where you sit, put your feet up and don’t do anything?’ He threw his hands up, and knew he was losing the battle when she pouted at him: that lip should be outlawed ‘Now I’m taking Charles to his music lesson and dropping the rest of the pack off at the mall; Red, you make her rest, please.’ And with that the vampire swept out of the room.

‘Charles?’ Willow asked, watching Buffy pull a face at the departing back

‘My, our, youngest, he’s 6 and loves his piano lessons. I’ve got two other boys, William and Wesley, as well as the girls Tara and Anjenka, and in here,’ she patted her obviously rounded stomach, ‘are Joyce and Anne. We were told that one baby every ten or twenty years would be fortunate and that girls were a double blessing; seems we re-wrote that book as well!’ she laughed and picked up her glass of juice…’ let’s go and sit in the rumpus room: I can put my feet up and we can gossip all afternoon, you can fill me in on your life, and I can tell you all about mine.’ Buffy wrapped an arm around her friend and when Tara looked in after spending the afternoon at the mall damaging her dad’s credit card, the two women were still laughing and joking like old, old friends.

That night saw a very content Willow, surrounded by people who loved her totally, and accepted her for what she was, dancing and partying at the local nightclub. The two vampires on the door had been very respectful when she had arrived, her name on the list that had her escorted by some sort of green skinned demon by the name of Lorne, into the VIP area.

Buffy was already there holding court, and Willow slipped into an empty seat quietly. The band playing were amazing: Dingos Ate My Baby tickets were the hottest in America and to be able to see then was a fantastic treat.

‘I have his poster on my wall,’ Willow said, pointing at Oz the lead singer. Buffy choked on her drink.

‘Well, I guess some things are just meant to be,’ she laughed, ‘we went to college with him, he’ll be delighted to see you again.’ She laughed again as she watched Willow’s face as they were joined at the table by Oz and the rest of the band.

Spike did make an appearance later that night; sweeping Buffy into his arms for a slow dance, he whispered into her ear, ‘all we’ve ever done is dance,’ making her smile up shyly at her husband. ‘Just wait til Saturday,’ he murmured, so that only she could hear him.

‘Why, what happens Saturday?’ She looked up at him in all innocence, running her tongue round her lips, moistening them in such a way he could feel the heat pooling in his groin.

‘I shag you stupid,’ he answered, staring down into her green eyes, curling his tongue behind his teeth, his eyes sparkling and flashing from blue to gold.

‘That’s not what you said first time,’ she frowned.

‘No but it’s what I meant…’he looked back at the table, full of her friends. ‘Not alone any more slayer, not alone.’

‘Nope, and never will be again,’ her eyes were full of laughter as he swept her into his arms and carried her back to her seat, his yellow eyes glowing as he nuzzled her neck and made her purr at him.