Chapter 1




Buffy rubbed her left hand down her jeans looking at it in wonderment.


It itched.


She’d had no feeling in that hand since… No you don’t. But thanks for saying it… Her stake held firmly in her right hand, she entered the weathered building, absentmindedly wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye with the other, taking the time to follow the lonely teardrop with her eyes as it glided from knuckle to knuckle. Two miracles in one day. She snorted at the thought. She didn’t want the feeling back. She didn’t want to be able to cry. Spike didn’t get his life back, and there was nothing left worth crying for.


Nothing left worth living for.


The heel of her Docs landed on a piece of broken glass and she wrinkled her nose at the crunching noise. Guess he was onto something wearing these. The glass would have cut through thin leather. A smile was caught and extinguished before it dared make its appearance on her face. Nothing left worth smiling for, nothing worth laughing for. Nothing. He died so she could live. Another snort. LIVE?


The tingles at the back of her neck alerted her to the proximity of the one she was stalking and she spun on her heel with a crazy glint in her eye, the same one Dawn had said she couldn’t stand facing any more before moving in with Giles. “Come out, sucker. Give me something to fucking sing about!”


“Buffy?”


Someone had sneaked up on her. No no no no. She knew what would happen. She had been there before. She would round the corner, all ready for a fight and she would hear him say, “Hello, cutie,” and her heart would stop. And then she would look up and it wouldn’t be him. It would be the Immortal. Smiling at her and asking if she remembered him. And his accent would be Italian and for the millionth time she’d wonder how on earth she’d ever confused him with Spike. Only then it would be Spike again. Burning.


“Buffy? Talk to us.”


His hand was reaching out and she took it in hers knowing that it wouldn’t be him again until it was too late…


…that she’d wake up screaming.


Only this time she wasn’t alone in bed when she woke up drenched in sweat and tears, her breath wheezing, her heart banging against her ribcage, her throat sore, and the echo of her inhuman cry in her ears. There were arms wrapped around her; hands tracing her face; voices, one voice – the right accent – times two, whispering soothing words in her ear; and two cool bodies framing her shuddering form. “Spike?” she croaked and felt a head nod against her right shoulder.


“We’re both here, luv.” William’s voice came from her left.


“Good,” she whispered, in the determined voice of a spoiled child. “Don’t go anywhere.”


Spike rolled her to the side, her back to him and both vampires shifted closer to her, touching the entire length of her body. William raised her leg and draped it over his hip, smoothly sliding inside her. It wasn’t passionate, and it wasn’t about sex. It was about feeling whole, and as Spike hugged both lovers, lazily rubbing his cock against her lower back, all three felt just that.



~~~~~*~~~~~



The Immortal sank back in his deep purple settee, a glass of champagne in hand. He swirled the golden liquid, enjoying the fizzing sound as much as the view of the bubbles clashing and popping. He was a lover of beauty, always had been, and took great pleasure in the little things in life. Like fine liquor and oysters.


Like revenge.


He grinned his Cheshire-cat grin and brought the champagne flute to his perfect lips. He refused to revert to his normal form unless he really had to, as it insulted his aesthetics. All but one of the rooms in the castle he called home had gilded mirrors, for him to admire his handsome face and tall, sculpted body, conveniently glossing over the fact that they weren’t what they seemed anymore. They had been real once, millennia ago, when he inhabited a completely different dimension. Now they were just memories he worked hard on keeping solid, and he did a pretty good job, if he said so himself.


Women never resisted him. He always had whom he wanted, for as long as he did, and occasionally enjoyed the company of virile young men in his bed. Nobody could turn him down or leave him. Nobody ever had. Except that schifosa, the Slayer. If he had a mother, she would have told him that every cloud had a silver lining. The way things were, he’d just happened to have read that saying and his grin became wider as he once again went over what that lining entailed in his particular situation.


Worst case scenario he would maintain his perfect record of nobody turning him down.


“Sofia,” he called, clapping his hands once. An olive-skinned beauty of about twenty entered the room almost immediately, and took an elegant bow not getting too close to him.


“You called for me, sir?” she asked in a melodious, slightly accented voice.


“Yes. Be a darling and bring me some oysters, si? And you’ll be spending the night with me.”


“Si, Signore.” Her lascivious smile and the way she flipped her waist-length hair as she turned to go, the raven mane caressing her back, the light catching the lustrous curls, made him forget about the sting of the rejection he had received from Buffy. He would go dark for the night and have the blonde back in his bed soon enough. His plan was already in motion.



~~~~~*~~~~~



“But why does it have to be today?” Buffy whined, stubbornly refusing to open her eyes. “I want to spend today in bed. With you.”


“Most of today is gone already, kitten. Plus, we spent yesterday in bed,” William replied, reaching down from his sitting position against the headboard to run his thumb along her cheek. “And the two days before.”


“No, we didn’t. We got up and ate. And showered.”


“One, we didn’t shower as much as needed,” Spike offered entering the room naked and dripping, “as you smell like you’ve been doin’ nothin’ but shaggin’ for three days in a row. Which is what you did.” He smirked. “And as much as I love that particular smell on you, I left you some hot water ‘cause your mates won’t.” He neared the bed and popped a cigarette in his mouth, speaking around it. “And two,” he lit the cigarette and took a deep drag, “we didn’t get up and eat. You, Slayer, had all your meals brought to you in bed.”


“As did you,” she answered with a cheeky grin, barely cracking one eyelid. “And I didn’t hear you complain about it. Now where’s breakfast?”


Spike chuckled and looked at William, indicating the foot of the bed with a tilt of his head. William seemed confused, so Spike pointed at Buffy’s feet, which were sticking out of the covers before moving towards them. The other vampire stood and followed his example and with their superhuman speed they each grabbed a dainty ankle and pulled, sending their lover tumbling to her ass on the floor.


“Oh my God, you’re so dead!” She sprang up, sleepiness forgotten in a flash, and jumped on William’s back as he turned to flee to the bathroom. “And you’re piggybacking me.”


She dug her heels into his hips. “Faster, faster!” She couldn’t believe she was giggling. She couldn’t believe she was genuinely happy after so long. She couldn’t believe she had everything she wanted, for once, and yet she was so completely dreading facing her friends and letting them know what – who – it was that made her so contented.


She had decided to come clean with them, to not hide her relationship this time around; she just didn’t want to do so today. Or for a week. Or a year. She wanted to stay in this cocoon of love for as long as she could before having to face the disapproving faces of people who thought they knew what was best for her. Buffy wasn’t worried she’d back out of this newfound happiness; she would fight tooth and nail to hang on to it. Only thing was, she was worried she would have to sever her bonds with people that had been in her life for so long while doing so. Not that she and those who used to call themselves the Scoobies were all that close those days. She couldn’t handle that they wanted her to move on, and they obviously had a hard time dealing with the fact that she wouldn’t.


William got them both under the showerhead and winked at Spike who turned the water on full force. Buffy tried to jump down, but William had a steel grip on her wrists in front of his sternum. “Stop wriggling, luv. You need a shower.”


“But he said there was hot water. This is so definitely not hot.”


“You’ll survive,” said Spike, flicking the ash from his cigarette into the toilet bowl. “But don’ stop wrigglin’. Love lookin’ at your bum like that.”


“Jerk!”


“Come here and tell me that, Slayer.”


“Oh, I will.” She spluttered. “Or you could come here and shampoo my hair.”


He didn’t need to be told twice, especially when she wriggled her ass.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Willow hung up the phone and bit the corner of her lips, a frown forming on her face as she turned to face the rest of her housemates who sat around the table, having a late lunch. “That was Buffy. She’ll be by this evening.”


“Nice of her to remember us. She may even remember her duties if she keeps this up,” remarked Kennedy and Willow’s frown got deeper.


“Did she sound ok?” asked Dawn, and Giles muttered “Does she ever?” adding some bourbon in his cup of coffee.


Xander was trying to swallow a mouthful of roast beef, but his smile at the thought of seeing his friend – something that didn’t happen all that often those days, unless there was an Apocalypse threatening – reached his single eye.


“That’s the thing. She sounded… perky. As in perky high school Buffy. With the babbling and the… perkiness,” said the redhead thoughtfully and tried hard to ignore how the young Slayer she was thinking of breaking up with rolled her eyes.


Xander finally managed to win the fight with his food and remarked cheerfully that maybe she had met someone, to which Dawn added, “Or discovered the beauty that is Prozac,” sounding a lot more concerned and bitter than she was aiming for.


“Well, maybe she managed to dispose of the Immortal.” Rupert washed the statement down with a gulp of coffee that he hoped would ease the headache growing between his eyes. If it had any effect, it wasn’t immediate.


“Yeah, or he fucked some happiness into her,” snorted Kennedy, blatantly defying the glares shot her way, and Willow had to remind herself how not nice it was to zip people’s mouths up with magic.


Instead she gave her girlfriend what she hoped was a warning look and said, “I guess we’ll all find out soon enough.” trying to sound casual.



~~~~~*~~~~~



“Pet, fixing my lapel isn’ goin’ to make them like me more than they did last time.” Spike was dreading the meeting more than Buffy was. Sure, he’d been privy to what happened in his future, or what would happen in William’s past – and wasn’t all that way too confusing? – and how he’d atoned and things had become civil between them, but he somehow couldn’t see them all accepting him with open arms.


He felt jealous of William and snorted at the hilarity of the thought. There was nothing to be jealous of him for, he won on all accounts. He hadn’t tried to rape his girl. The thought of actually trying to do so, of the hurt he had to feel inside to lose it to the point of doing something like that brought tears to his eyes, and he was glad Buffy’s attention was now trained on his back, where she tried to straighten invisible crinkles on the heavy leather. He hadn’t gone through all the shit William had to get a soul, of all things, and still he got the girl. Yes, he was having it much better than William, who had to go through a second Apocalypse and watch Angel die the moment he got Sanshued, but he couldn’t help envying the calmness his older self seemed to possess, even if he was by far the better looking of the two.


What Spike didn’t realize was that William was as capable of hiding his fear as he was. William was not calm, he was just trying to appear that way so that Buffy wouldn’t blow a gasket. So, his Slayer had said that what had happened in that bathroom, now buried under tons of Sunnydale rubble, belonged in the past and should be forgotten, but he knew none of her friends would see things the same way. Although things had started to change in their attitudes towards him before Sunnydale fell, he knew that they would choose to remember him as the monster that had defiled their Golden Girl.


“Can’t you put some gel on your hair? It’s all over the place.” Said Golden Girl scrunched up her face in dismay and he held his tongue, his new self not wanting to point out how she had made a mess of his curls just minutes after they got out of the shower. Some things never changed, and neither did Buffy’s tendency to use sex as a painkiller or distraction. Only this time she loved him. All of him.


“Leave the man be and let’s go. How far is it to where we’re goin’?


“Just half an hour drive.” She waved a set of car keys in front of the dumbfounded vampires’ faces and turned towards the front door.


“You drive?” they asked as one.


“Yup. And it was mighty hard finding a black DeSoto and getting it shipped all the way here.”


They chased after her, arguing that they could walk, and weren’t cars not allowed in the centre of Rome, anyway? She shushed them both and said neither her place nor The Manor that housed the new Council headquarters, and enough Slayers to make sure vampires would never bother Italy again, were in the centre.


All they could do when she refused giving either of them the car keys was cry, “Shotgun!”


They both ended up in the back seat, whining in a very unmanly way.



~~~~~*~~~~~



The house Giles shared with Willow, Xander, Dawn, and Kennedy was adjacent to the headquarters. They all believed they had given up too much to have to actually share their lodgings with super-teens that never quieted down, and Buffy was immensely grateful she wouldn’t have to pass through The Manor’s gate – and probably raise an alarm due to her companions – to get to them.


Standing in front of the heavy wooden door, Spike and William flanking her, she reluctantly raised her fist and knocked, before reaching out and holding both of their hands, praying it would be one of the girls, preferably Willow, and not Giles or Xander that opened the door.



She should have known she didn’t have enough credit left for another wish so soon after being granted Spike and William back.







Tbc.

From the previous chapter


Standing in front of the heavy wooden door, Spike and William flanking her, she reluctantly raised her fist and knocked, before reaching out and holding both her men’s hands, praying it would be one of the girls – preferably Willow – and not Giles or Xander that opened the door.



She should have known she didn’t have enough credit left for another wish so soon after being granted Spike and William back.




Chapter 2




Sofia made sure to have the cook send a platter of oysters to the lord of the castle and retired to her rooms to ready herself for the night to come. She prepared her bath, tested the temperature and slid gracefully into the warm water, making sure to soak long enough in the perfumed essence she knew he preferred, so that the scent would linger on her skin. Washing her long hair was always a ritual; she took the time to untangle it and soak it before gently rubbing shampoo into it from root to end one strand at a time. She massaged her scalp, loving the cooling effect the mint in her herbal shampoo had on it, rinsed thoroughly then repeated the process. The next and final step was using her conditioner, again running it with her fingers along the entire length of her tresses. She never washed it out afterwards, preferring to let the cream work on it until her next bath. There was no need to shave her legs or pubic region. Adalberto, the Immortal, liked his women hairless, so she waxed on a regular basis, and was completely smooth everywhere.


Having finished bathing, she stood up while the water drained and took a long, approving look at her body in the mirror facing the tub. Her stomach was flat, her waist thin, her breasts heavy and round, and her hips perfectly curvy leading to long and shapely legs. She had a killer body and she had to keep it that way. Had to keep her hair silky. Had to apply the oil she was now pouring on her skin to keep it soft, or Adalberto might change his mind about wanting her around, and then…


Her eyes darkened, but it wasn’t in fear and it definitely wasn’t out of lust. Shaking her head to drive thoughts she shouldn’t be having away, she left the bathroom and went to her bedroom to blow-dry and brush her hair to his liking. She itched to cut it, maybe even a la garcon, but knew that wouldn’t go down well. She didn’t bother with make up; he didn’t like it in bed and she appreciated that because she never saw the use of putting some on, only to have it smudged on the pillow. With a final look at her reflection, she left the room completely naked, and went to his bed to wait for him.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Xander had had a hard time coping with everything that had gone down in Sunnydale. With Sunnydale going down. With his childhood and the woman he loved being buried in a crater on a different Continent than the one he currently lived on. Numerous times he’d considered seeking solace in alcohol, something he had more than a mere suspicion Giles did regularly, but he decided that he’d be brave, for himself and for Anya. It would be an insult to her if he became like his drunkard of a father, when fear of becoming like his old man was what had made him walk out on her on their wedding day. He wouldn’t try to drown her memory on a daily basis, he would pay it the respect it was due; respect he regretfully knew he’d failed to pay his woman while she was alive.


He really did think he was coping rather well.


He embraced his loss, didn’t avoid talking about it, or her and the time they had together, and he didn’t hide the tears that welled in his good eye at the most emotional of moments, which at least at first were constant.


He’d even started looking at women appraisingly again, something he’d thought impossible a year ago, and they actually looked back. He attributed that to the hours he spent every day training with the Slayerettes and the physical labour he’d put into their house and The Manor that helped shape his now muscular physique. The eye-patch and permanently unshaven state didn’t harm his looks one bit, and the ladies liked what they saw… even though many of the ladies were jailbait and he would never take advantage of their attraction to him.


Xander was growing, and he was coping, and he had even stopped seeing Anya in front of him all the time, and he was darned proud of himself. So, when he heard a knock on the door and answered it only to see Buffy and doubles of the vampire who he thought was long dusted – even though he had to strain to recognize the version of Spike that stood on the Slayer’s right – he only said, “Buffy. Spike. Spike,” nodding to each of them in turn, then left the door open to go back to the couch, lie down, close his eye and call out, “Willow! Dawn! Someone wake me up, please! I’m dreaming of Spikes!”


Willow was the first to hear him and enter the living room. “Spikes? You’re dreaming of-” Something caught her eye. “-Spikes. Right outside our front door… holding hands with Buffy!” She started waving her hands frantically in the air. “People! Buffy is here.”


Seeing her friend was one breath away from hyperventilating, Buffy tried to calm her down, never letting go of her lovers. “Wills, honey, it’s okay. It’s my Spike, I mean, they both are.”


“How did you… how did they… Two?”


Buffy shrugged. “It was a wish. I’ll explain.”


“But… two?”


“Yes, Willow, and I’m keeping them. Both. I love them and they love me, and I won’t give up either of them. Not again.” Buffy’s voice never wavered as she added, “Don’t make me choose.” She didn’t mean choose between the two vampires.


Taking in a breath and a big decision simultaneously at the look of silent plea mixed with constrained hope in her friend’s eyes, Willow said, “Come in Spike…s.”


Right as the trio crossed the threshold, Dawn came in from the kitchen. All caught up in her pain for so long, Buffy hadn’t noticed how much her sister had grown after Sunnydale. She was taller and slimmer than she remembered, and she had last seen her only a couple of months ago. Maybe three. And when did she get the sophisticated haircut that ended right below the ears? Only the way she dragged her feet – still in her pyjamas – hadn’t changed. Without looking up from the bowl of ice cream she held, she said, “Xander, I told you eating and sleeping right after is bad for you.”


“Dawnie-” she started, but Spike cut her off.


“Nibblet?”


Buffy heard the tears in his voice and tightened her grip to his hand reassuringly. He, just like William, had full memories of the scorn and disappointment in Dawn’s eyes after what had happened, or almost did, with her sister all that time ago. She also noticed William taking half a step back and slightly behind her, as if to hide from the younger girl’s view, so she squeezed his hand gently, too. They were all in this together, and whoever couldn’t accept that would be out of her life, even if that meant her own flesh and blood.


As it turned out, their joined hands was what kept Spike from toppling over when Dawn shrieked, “Spike,” tossed her dessert on the coffee table – where it slid across the surface, landing unnoticed on the floor – and jumped on him, squishing him with enough strength to crush a human man’s lungs. “It’s you! What happened? God, you haven’t changed a bit,” she exclaimed between squeezes. “Not that you’d change, you’re a vampire. What happened? Weren’t you dusted? Where have you been? I’ve missed you!”


“God, pet, it’s so good to see you again.” Spike returned her hug with only slightly less fervor, and was all out weeping now.


“Dawnie?” Buffy tried to get her attention, but failed. “Dawnie? That isn’t the Spike we thought was dead.” But was that right? He was the same man, only sooner, if that made any sense.


The girl kept ignoring her. Lowering her feet to the floor, she started touching Spike’s face as if to make sure it was really him, while he still held on to her. Buffy’s heart constricted in her chest at the look of awe in Spike’s eyes that became deeper with every feathery touch of her sister’s fingers on his features. She pulled William forward and that was the first time Dawn noticed him. “Dawnie, this is the Spike we… left in Sunnydale.”


Half-heartedly disentangling herself from the bleached vampire’s arms, the brunette went to William and thoroughly examined his face using both her eyes and her fingers like she had with Spike. Finally certain his characteristics were the ones of the Vampire who had treated her like a little sister, and whom she thought dead, she took off his glasses, handed them to Willow, and… slapped him in the face. “Where were you all this time? Do you know how much I cried over you?” She pointed at Buffy with her thumb. “How much she cried over you?” She wasn’t shouting, and somehow that made her words cut him even deeper.


“I’m sorry, Nibblet, I’m so sorry! I didn’t think you’d want me back.” His voice cracked and Buffy let go of his hand to wrap her arm around him, sensing he needed her. “Either of you.”


Dawn pinched his arm. “Well we did, and you could have asked.” She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve been alive all this time?”


“Yes, although incorporeal for the first few months,” William admitted in a resigned voice and she pinched him again. “Oi! How come he got a hug and I keep getting that?” he asked indignantly while Spike chuckled, even though his tears had yet to dry on his cheeks.


“It was coming to him, if Buffy hadn’t told me you were the Spike whom I’ve been mourning for so long. You don’t sound like that Spike, by the way. More like Giles.” She scrunched her nose, showing her disapproval, but her eyes were laughing now. “And who is he?” she asked her sister tilting her head in Spike’s direction.


“Past Spike. From about a year or so before…” Buffy’s voice trailed off as she tried to think of how to put it. “Before the Sunnydale… exit. We call him Spike.” She tilted her head towards the vampire Dawn was standing in front of, “And he now goes by William. Had to tell them apart somehow, and Spike-one, Spike-two wouldn’t really-”


“I have full memory of how everythin’ went down for you, tho.” Spike interjected. “And not just stuff William knew.” He paused to let that sink in. “Guess it was a perk. Ponce got me caught up an’ all.”


“It was a wish!” Willow had been silent for way too long and thought she’d share the only bit of information she had about the situation at hand, as if it explained everything – or anything, really.


Buffy nodded and opened her mouth to explain further, but the only one paying attention to her was the redhead, whose mind was running a mile a second over the possibilities behind the presence of the second Spike in her living room.


“Can I get a hug, too, before we tell you all about it?” William asked timidly and got an extra helping of Dawn in his arms. He let his own tears go as he kissed her cheek. “Never thought you’d forgive me after…” He couldn’t say the words. “Didn’t dare to.”


“Buffy told me all about how it was with you two. The sex, the pain, the mutual hurt. What a bitch she was,” she snorted, glaring at her sister. “I forgave you a long time ago.” Her fingers were in his hair as she tried to reconcile the look and feel of the soft honey coloured curls with the memory of his platinum blond hair the last time she’d touched it. She hadn’t touched his hair in years, hadn’t messed up the painstakingly gelled back locks in order to make him growl and mock attack her so that the two ended up on the floor in a giggling heap, since before the incident that had made him leave town. Thinking back at how she’d treated him after he returned, how she shunned him along with the others, tears welled up in her own eyes. “Can you forgive me?”


“Nothing-” He corrected himself, remembering her teasing about his proper accent, “Nothin’ there to forgive. You were lookin’ out for your kin. Wouldn’ expect any less of you.”


She flashed him a smile and burrowed in his arms again. Spike joined their embrace, already loving this young woman as much as the teenager he only got to see grow up in borrowed memories, pulling on a dazed Willow to include her in the hug. In his book, Red was good. His added memories let him know how she’d helped stop The First and made sure Dawn adjusted to her new life when her sister – crippled by grief – couldn’t be there for her as she should.


Buffy was extremely relieved at how her sister and friend received the two vampires. She had wished for things to go down that way, but didn’t really believe they would. For a moment, though, she dared actually hope that for once in her life she’d be allowed real happiness; that she wouldn’t have to sacrifice anything or anyone for her Calling and that nobody would try to make her give up the men that made her feel whole. Her hope didn’t last long when she remembered she still had Giles and Xander’s reactions to worry about, and she was more than a little nervous that the latter hadn’t said a single word since greeting them at the door. He hadn’t even moved a muscle or opened his eye.


At that exact moment, as if he’d read her thoughts, Xander sat up and cleared his throat. “I guess it wasn’t a dream then?” he asked nobody in particular. When Buffy just shook her head, lower lip trembling, he grinned and said, “Welcome back, deadboy junior. Guess death doesn’t stick to you.” He stood and approached the others, holding his hand out to William, who pulled out of the group hug to reluctantly take it and got the shock of his un-life when the one-eyed carpenter pulled him in for one of those partial hugs men share some times. If someone had told him a few days ago that that might happen, he’d tell them there was a better chance of Buffy actually loving him. “And we got a buy-one-get-one-free deal. Hope you don’t bite either,” Xander went on, reaching for Spike’s hand this time and repeating the gesture. “Now will someone tell me-”


“What on Earth is going on here?”
“What the fuck? Now she’s cloning them?”





Tbc.

Chapter 3




That first night all three had slept together was the first Buffy had felt safe since the evening before the battle with The First which she’d spent in Spike’s – or rather William’s – arms, and still The Dream had come. There hadn’t been a single night since she lost him to the Hellmouth that The Dream didn’t wake her screaming.

Before she’d met the Immortal, it wasn’t the Italian charmer facing her once she rounded the abandoned building’s outer wall; it wasn’t anyone. There was just a vaguely human form with no distinguishable characteristics, and then there was Spike on fire. That part never changed and she attributed it to her subconscious trying to deal with her loss. She’d hoped The Dream would cease now that her heart was mended again, even if shared in two, so it was more than worrisome that she kept having it.


Willow once said that love makes you do the wacky. Buffy could now attest to grief making you do the stupid. She’d had Slayer dreams before, and she felt completely stupid that she hadn’t pegged it as one of them for so long. Not that she was the one to realize it first.


The first time she woke up screaming, with Spike and William trying to comfort her, the two stubborn Vampires wouldn’t let the matter lie. When she finally admitted to what her nightmare entailed and how long she’d been having it, Spike had said, “Slayer dream”, to which William replied, “Definitely,” and Buffy had giggled and said “Shut up and kiss me, I have to be worn out to go back to sleep.” She knew she had to talk to Giles about it, but that meant talking to him about everything, and there were horny men in her bed, horny men she loved, so she decided to be all Scarlet O’Hara and say tomorrow is another day.


She and her lovers spent their time making love, having fun and sharing those little moments that make couples – even those comprised of three people – couply. Spike and William had brought her up to speed on everything that had happened to him since he’d sealed the Hellmouth, and all three cried over the loss of the Vampires’ sire. What William didn’t mention was how Angel had asked old Rupes for help in that final battle, and how that help had been denied, and Spike didn’t feel like filling that bit of information in either. They both understood and supported her need to live in her denial for a while, so she ended up being Scarlet O’Hara three days in a row, and very successfully too.


Only now, sitting in the living room of the house that her once closest people called home, she couldn’t remember anyone cornering Scarlet like Giles was currently doing to her.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Kennedy had always been unique. Her mom and dad had told her so almost on a daily basis. She was uniquely smart, uniquely beautiful, uniquely rich and would some day become uniquely strong once the Calling reached her. Because she was simply too unique not to be Chosen. When the Slayer and Willow had decided to raise all the Potentials to their Calling, she didn’t complain because she was the only one of the Slayerettes who was accepted in Buffy’s inner circle. Plus she was the only one who shared a very powerful – let alone hot – witch’s bed.


When they all relocated to Rome, her status remained as it was. She was the only Slayer now trained by the Rupert Giles, phenomenon-Watcher and current Head of the Council of Watchers, and she was part of the decision making team. Life was good and she got all the attention she deserved, which made life even better. Every afternoon she and her Watcher, since Buffy obviously thought of herself as too much of the Big Cahuna to need one, would spar in the basement of the house where there was a fully equipped gym just for her. She knew the gym had originally been made with Buffy in mind, but again, the older girl felt she was above it, and above training, as far as Kennedy was concerned.


She was in that gym, practicing her swordsmanship when Xander had called for someone to wake him up. She had just rolled her eyes, and seeing how Giles’ attention shifted from her to the stairway that led to the ground floor, managed to slice through his sleeve and graze his forearm. “Focus, old man”. She liked how he got pissed off when she called him that, it made him more aggressive, and he lacked aggression these days. From what she’d heard about the Old Council, and judging from her previous watcher, Rupert was way too soft. He had let his original Slayer loose, instead of either taming or terminating her, and everybody knew he was drinking more than just socially as of late.


Giles didn’t reply. Not in words, anyway. Instead, with a move she had yet to learn, he sneaked the tip of his sword between her grip and the hilt and managed to disarm her just as Willow yelled that Buffy was there. “Let’s go see what Buffy wants,” he said and – when she mumbled, “But we’re not done yet” – gave her his back as he started up the steps, ignoring the superficial wound she’d given him.


These days, Kennedy felt unique unless Buffy was around, and was quite happy that the latter didn’t grace them with her annoying presence all that much. She followed Rupert upstairs and almost walked right into him as he halted in the doorway to the living room. The moment she realized what had him frozen in his tracks, she spoke her mind like she always did.


“What the fuck? Now she’s cloning them?” she exclaimed just as a bewildered Giles asked, “What on Earth is going on here?”




~~~~~*~~~~~



“Wish? You made a wish? Dear lord, I’d have thought you’d know better! And what of the Immortal now? I can’t believe you hadn’t told me about the Slayer dream. Where is your bloody sense of responsibility?”


“When you say you’re keeping both… are you… ummm… romantically involved? Not—not that I would have anything against that… Hey, I mean, I’m the last to talk about choices on sexual partners but—how does it work? I mean-” Willow sounded generally interested as to the mechanics of their relationship.


Xander grimaced at his friend’s question. “Someone cut off my ears, please! Being open minded is one thing, having to actually know details… Ugh.”


Seeing a way to use the situation to her advantage, Dawn piped in. “Now that Buffy has two boyfriends can I finally start dating?” Everyone ignored her and she sighed dejectedly.


“Does your Slaying Manual miss an S there in the title? What the fuck is wrong with you? You are the Slayer, and you act like a slut! Unless you’re trying to screw the undead into dust.” The disgust was evident in Kennedy’s voice.


Buffy was frowning. Nobody had told Kennedy to butt out for the last half hour that Giles was grilling her for information on the two Spikes, The Dream, and the Immortal. Willow appeared increasingly annoyed, to the point where Buffy thought she saw a dark light flash in her eyes, but still hadn’t said a thing. Buffy knew that the younger Slayer’s bitchiness shouldn’t be the focus here, as everybody kept throwing questions at her, but it was Kennedy she wanted to tell to shut the fuck up. After all, the rest had been around long enough to earn the right to… Just as that thought started forming in Buffy’s mind she realized it was wrong. What right did they have, anyway?


“Would you all please be so kind as to shut up?” Complete silence at last, except for twin chuckles from her men. “Thank you.” She tried to ignore the hurt look in Giles’ face, as well at the churning in her stomach that came with the guilt of talking to her father figure like that. “Now, let me, Spike, and William try to explain everything-” She held her hand up when she saw her sister open her mouth. “Without interrupting. If you still have questions once we’re finished, we’ll try to answer them.”


Kennedy whispered something unintelligible and Buffy decided she’d had enough. “Unless you want your bratty ass severely kicked, you will do as I said.”


“You’re not the boss of me. Willow, tell her-”


“Shut it, Kennedy. For the love of God, just shut your bloody gob!” Everyone looked at Giles in shock as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Go on, Buffy. No one will interrupt you, promise.”



~~~~~*~~~~~



When Buffy had first met the Immortal – when he first found her, really – she was still a mess. Not having been trained in handling grief all that well, she’d been dealing with her loss the only way she knew how; seeking out and destroying dangerous demons as recklessly as she could. It wasn’t a conscious effort of self-destruction, more like a lack of caring for her own well-being, and a need to keep her adrenaline on high so she wouldn’t have time to think about how things could be if he was there with her. It had been months since the Hellmouth, her friends had managed to go on with their lives, even Xander laughed again, but she felt like her life had stopped the day Sunnydale was sucked into earth.


When word reached the new Council headquarters that some weird demonic activity had been sensed in a nightclub that Dawn had begged her to visit with her on several occasions, Buffy was fairly certain it was a ploy by her friends to get her to have fun. Still, her sense of responsibility wouldn’t let her refuse to go. And having to blend in meant she needed clothes other than the black jeans, t-shirt and boots she’d taken to wearing lately. Dawn jumped at the opportunity to take her shopping, but had come down with the flue, so Buffy was left to her own devices in a shopping mall, cursing what used to be her favorite hobby.

Just as she was frowning at a short skirt that seemed to have time-traveled there from her old life, reminding her of one of Spike’s thousands of remarks about her patrolling attire, a strikingly handsome man had appeared out of nowhere, insisting she try the garment on. She politely refused, but he pouted, and his pout was so similar to Spike’s that she had to do as he asked. The same happened when he introduced himself and asked her out for coffee. She just couldn’t refuse him. When they sat down, the first thing he said was “I’m sorry for your loss”, it took her a second to figure out what he meant, and she found that incredibly infuriating. She was halfway out of her chair, determined to leave, but what he said next stopped her in her tracks. “I knew him, you know. A couple of lifetimes ago. Him and his sire.” She plopped back in her seat and didn’t move a muscle, waiting for the rest of his story.


She hadn’t expected to have fun that day, but she did. Adalberto had come right out and told her he was the Immortal, not that that held any significance to her at the time, and that he knew she was the Slayer. He’d kept her amused with anecdotes about Spike and Angel from over a century ago and didn’t make her feel threatened or like he was hitting on her. When he asked her out for the following day, she quite forwardly told him she had to scope a club for demons. He offered to join her. She accepted.


Giles had been livid when she’d told him. He kept telling her that the fact alone The Immortal, a supernatural being with unknown allegiances, had approached her showed something was brewing, but she disagreed. If anything, Spike had taught her that black and white were far from the only shades in the world, and she was determined to give the guy a chance. Not to win her heart – that burned to ashes along with Sunnydale – but to be in her company, and maybe at some point act as a second best to what used to be. Not that she saw that time being soon, she’d hastened to clarify when she saw the hope in her sister’s eyes that she might actually be ready to become romantically involved with someone – anyone – again.


When Giles insisted she was being foolish, she’d stared him down and very calmly stated she’d hear none of it, and that it was about time they started trusting her taste in men.


That came back to bite her in the ass repeatedly, when Adalberto disappeared after that first “date”. She wasn’t hurt, but rather pissed off that the man didn’t even have the courtesy to tell her he didn’t plan on seeing her again. She thought they’d had fun, or as much fun as two people can have on a date when one is not even remotely interested in the other in a sexual way, but that was obviously not enough fun for him.


When he reappeared about a year later, and sought her out with a quite implausible excuse about an urgent matter he had to settle all the way in Japan, she was disinterested enough to agree to go out with him. She didn’t care he’d disappeared, because she didn’t care about him. He was just a link to Spike for her, in some weird way, but she soon found herself enjoying his company again. They started seeing each other daily, and although he verbally expressed his interest in her, he never tried to approach her sexually. That, combined with the charities he’d undertaken and the way people took an instant liking to him made her feel more and more at ease with him. She’d even considered taking things to the next level with him. Not falling in love of course, just becoming more intimate. Giles still had his objections about their peculiar relationship, but Buffy kept waving him off, saying he was judgy, just like he’d been with the Vampire who saved the world. That argument usually shut him up, and on more than one occasion made him look shameful, though she never asked why, too busy basking in the perverse pleasure it gave her to rub his face in his huge lack of judgment.


So she was grateful when Giles didn’t even try to rub it back in her own face when Council intelligence came up with positive proof that her suitor was involved with the almost-Apocalypse in LA, where her first lover had lost his un-life. That, more than the sting of betrayal by someone else she’d let into her life, had made her adamant on killing him. She’d spent a few more months pretending to gradually become enamored with him, sneaking around his place when he fell asleep – spending the night at his castle on several occasions but always in a separate bedroom, claiming she still wasn’t ready – until she got all she needed. Then she found out what he was and how to kill him, only now, she’d have to get even closer.


As she’d told Spike and William during one of their heart-to-hearts, she didn’t regret sleeping with him when she finally did. At their twin expressions of distaste she reminded them that if she hadn’t, they wouldn’t all be together now. They couldn’t refute that.


Now, even Giles seemed to accept the necessity of that “bit of intimacy”, as he referred to it, in lieu of the goal of getting rid of a potentially very dangerous enemy. The new and improved Xander managed to keep his foot from sneaking into his mouth as well, but nobody missed the look on Kennedy’s face when Buffy mentioned sleeping with him to explain how she got to the wishing part.


“So, he’s still alive?” Willow asked after everything had been explained.


“Yes, but I’ll rectify that,” Buffy assured, smiling when she felt both Spike and William tighten their grips on her hands as if to say they wanted in too.


“That is not what troubles me at this moment.” Giles’ voice was grave, as he stood up to pace the length of the living room. “I’m more concerned with Spike.”


“I’m not goin’ to bite anyone, you bloody git!”


Giles stopped his pacing. “That’s hardly my problem, Spike.” Facing them, and resisting the need to take off his glasses and wipe them, he added, “What worries me is… where did you come from?”


“From. The. Past.” It was obvious that Spike was making an effort not to comment on the Watcher’s intelligence.


“What I mean is… what happened to that past, after you left?”






Tbc.

Chapter 4




Giles stopped his pacing. “That’s hardly my problem, Spike.” Facing them, and resisting the need to take off his glasses and wipe them, he added, “What worries me is… where did you come from?”


“From. The. Past.” It was obvious that Spike was making an effort not to comment on the Watcher’s intelligence.


“What I mean is… what happened to that past, after you left?”



~~~~~*~~~~~



The significance of things is rarely apparent at the moment they occur. People don’t know it’s the last time they’ll be making love with a significant other, the last time they’ll be seeing a friend, or the last time they’ll be leading a group, until that moment has come and gone. It usually happens gradually. Lovers will grow distant, friends will drift apart, and there’ll come a point where you may just cease to be necessary. The first time Rupert Giles felt he wasn’t needed he wanted to cheer. His Slayer was in college and had gradually learned to handle things on her own, and that only reflected on his abilities as her Watcher. Little did he know that what he felt so proud for at the time would slice right through him and hurt him to the core when it became a regular occurrence.


Even though they’d reached a balance as soon as she realized her new college friends - let alone her almost mentor - hadn’t been what she thought they were after she came back from her second death, he’d believed she backtracked and once more came to depend on him a little too much. So he left her. He knew that was far from a stellar decision now, but at the time it had seemed right. When he returned, he inadvertently tried to slide back into the spot he used to occupy, but it was too late. Never, not once, had he thought this will be the last time she needs me, and now, after all they’d been through, he wholeheartedly wished he had. Maybe he could have helped more. Maybe he could have rethought his choices and not try to strip her of a powerful ally because of his own prejudice, losing her trust in the process.


He thought of a lot of ‘maybes’ these days, as he tried to help Kennedy be her best, wishing he had a chance at a do over. Buffy was treating him like a mere acquaintance, and his hurt over that was being transferred to not being the best he could be for Kennedy either. He resented her for not being Buffy and he resented himself for being unfair to her. Many a night when he sat in front of the fire place, brandy in hand, he reminisced over the good old days, and berated himself for considering near-Apocalypses as good. He missed the way he’d felt constantly on edge, the challenges he’d had to go through with his Slayer and the kids that were the closest he’d ever come to having a family, but most of all he missed being a father figure for Buffy.


The moment he’d yelled at her about responsibility and making a wish to the Immortal, he wished he could take it back, that he could be more open, more understanding. His questions weren’t about judging her, but about getting a better grasp of the situation they were facing. He needed her to trust him again, craved to be part of her life as he’d once been. The news that one of the Spikes were from the past sparked something inside him that he wanted to nurture to full flame; the need to research, to act.


He would become useful to her again, would help her, would be needed, and if that was his second chance at a last time, at least he’d know to do his best.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Buffy wanted not to have gotten up that day. She was careful not to make a wish for it – because who knew how that would have gone down – but she wanted to have stayed in bed, with her lovers, and not have heard the so very logical arguments Giles had presented for researching the presence of Spike by her side.


“Them both being here clearly indicates they are not from the same time-line,” he said, and when everyone did nothing but stare, he went on to say more things that scared her. “If Spike is here from the past, then everything that transpired to, or because of him, since his time to when he got here wouldn’t have.” He looked at the group around him and threw his hands in the air. “Soul, people. William would have. No. Soul. So he wouldn’t be here. Never mind the fact that he wouldn’t have stopped the Sunnydale Apocalypse.”


“So what? He’s from another Universe?” Xander felt he had to clarify that and then pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t in one of his Star Treck dreams, the likes of which had been making frequent appearances in his sleep since he started spending more time with Andrew.


“Yeah, one that got destroyed ‘cause Buffy needed to get laid,” was Kennedy’s helpful contribution, but her snark lacked its usual bite. She looked worried, concern over the fate of a Universe overcoming her personal feelings towards Buffy. Willow elbowed her, and Dawn threw her a killer look, and she looked really contrite.


“That’s ridiculous.” The moment the word left Buffy’s mouth, she knew she was being silly. She could lift a truck single-handedly, had died twice, three times if you counted the time Warren had shot her, fought more Apocalypses than she cared to think about, had slept with two vampires and a Hell God, her best friend was an all powerful witch and her sister was a green ball of energy. Nothing could be considered ridiculous anymore, so she shut her mouth.


William was completely silent, on occasion chancing a glance at Spike.


“An alternate Universe where everythin’ was the same as this? Not likely, mate. Hence the word al-ter-nate. Plus, I have all of this one’s,” Spike pointed at William with his thumb, “-memories”. He didn’t sound as sure as his words were meant to be.


“No, not an alternate Universe, not per se.” Giles went on to explain how plucking Spike from his own time, the way the wish did, could have created a kind of fork in time. Time, and the Universe, could have split into two branches; one where things had happened the way they all remembered and one where they, well, hadn’t.


He was now saying “It makes sense,” and Buffy’s head was about to explode. William had gathered her to his side, but she felt Spike withdraw. His hand was still in hers, but his body was stiff, rigid, not melting into hers like it had every chance he got for the past few days.


“I thought I was just fast-forwarded,” the bleached blond mumbled, his ever expressive face indicating an internal battle that Buffy refused to acknowledge.


“Well, it’s still just a theory. We’ll have to research. Dawn,” Rupert looked at the young girl who was nodding vigorously. “You and Xander start looking into it. Willow, you contact the Coven. I’ll talk with Spike to clarify some things and then join you.”


The three did as they were told; Dawn with an encouraging smile thrown over her shoulder at the three blonds, and Kennedy tugged along. The look on Spike’s face had unsettled her more than she wanted to admit. He didn’t have a soul; he wasn’t supposed to look so heartbroken.


As soon as Giles had asked all the questions he felt he needed to, in order to spot the exact moment Spike had left his own time, the door was thrown open. Buffy and the vampires turned, automatically assuming battle positions, but it was only Andrew, who ran inside, calling, “Buffy is here? Why did nobody tell me?” He froze in his tracks, doing a double take at Spike. “You came for her? Oh my God, you came for her!” he screeched. “I knew you weren’t on the bad guys’ team! I told Giles you still loved her, but no! Wise Obi-One had to know better.” He completely ignored the Watcher’s repeated call of his name in a warning tone and threw himself in the un-souled vampire’s arms.


Buffy looked from him to Spike, to Giles, to William. Where Andrew completely ignored her, and Spike seemed too preoccupied with getting away from Andrew without hurting him, the other two avoided her eyes.


“Okay, that’s it.” She took hold of the back of Andrew’s neck and easily peeled him off her lover. “Time for some splainies. Now.”



~~~~~*~~~~~



Dawn chewed on the back of her pencil, her mind obviously not on the research at hand. “Do you think he’ll stay this time?” she asked Xander who was fiddling with his eye-patch.


“Which one?”


“Both. Do you think she’ll be happy?”


Xander reached out and ran his fingers through her hair, settling a lock behind her ear. “She has to be. It’s about time.”


“So, you’re ok with it?” She hated how young she sounded to her own ears. She was a woman now, damn it.


“Yes. And I think we all are.” He chuckled when Dawn raised her eyebrows and tilted her head towards the door to Willow and Kennedy’s room. “All who matter to her are. And if Spike has to go back, at least William is here to stay.”


She nodded and turned her eyes back to the page she was reading.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Sofia lay awake, eyes closed, snuggled against the side of the man who had become her prison and that of her mother’s before her, all her life. Even with her eyes shut, she could see him in her mind, lying sprawled on his back, a smile on his lips, an arm wrapped protectively around her. Or it just seemed protective, she thought. It was probably habit, or just the way he was comfortable. She sighed, but he didn’t stir.


Sometimes it was hard not to love him. He was beautiful, and smart, and fun to be around, and life with him meant she was showered with riches and all her whims were catered to. At least until… she refused to think about that. There was time yet, and maybe something would happen. Her right side was numb from laying on it, so she tried to turn to her stomach, careful not to wake him up. His grip tightened around her and he whispered “Buffy”. Sofia felt a pang, but one too brief to credit with jealousy. An idea started forming in her head; one that she didn’t dare dwell upon at the moment. It wasn’t long until sleep claimed her.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Spike was worried. More worried than he’d ever been.


If Giles’ theory was proven right, then his happiness could be at the expense of an entire Universe, and it bothered him beyond words that he cared about that. Yes, it was Buffy – his Buffy, the one that still hated him – he was most concerned about, not the Universe she was stuck with, but still, that was a woman who hated him… and it weighed on him, in a manner it shouldn’t.


And then there was this Buffy, next to him, who hadn’t said a word since that little snot Andrew had let on that Giles knew William had come back after Sunnydale, and hadn’t helped him and Angel with the Apocalypse in Los Angeles. She’d just turned and walked out the door, leaving him and his souled self run after her in the darkness.


Now they were all at her apartment, and William was fussing over her, asking her if she needed anything, apologizing again and again like it was his fault her Watcher betrayed her, while Spike was heating up some water to make her hot chocolate. If that didn’t make her talk to them, he’d bite the bint.


It did. She said “Thank you”, and then turned those huge eyes of hers to William and asked, “Did the others know?”


“No, pet, they didn’t. Not to my knowledge. You saw their reactions.” He placed a hand on her knee reassuringly, and wiped a tear off her cheek with the thumb of the other.


“Yeah, Li’l Bit was all over us. She wouldn’ be like that if she’d thought he’d gone bad again, yeah?”


The Slayer nodded. “And the others?” There was a plea in her voice, a need to know the betrayal wasn’t as huge, as complete as she thought. Spike’s un-beating heart broke. “They didn’t. It was just old Rupes. And he had good reason at the time.”


She snapped at him. “How can you defend him? After… After everything?”


“I have to, ‘cause he was only doin’ what he thought was best for you.”


William didn’t speak. He didn’t forgive the Watcher for letting Fred, Angel, and all the others die when he could have helped, and he was sure Spike wasn’t as forgiving as he let on either. He squeezed next to Buffy on the sofa and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, letting her curl’ against his side. Taking his useless glasses off and putting them on the table by the sofa he nuzzled her neck.


“He loves you, kitten,” Spike went on. “And you need the people who love you on your side.”


There was something in his tone that made William afraid for what his younger self had in mind. He looked a question at him, but Spike just shook his head, indicating now wasn’t the time for it.


“Does he love me, though? Or does he just want me to be his perfect little killing machine?” Buffy mumbled against William’s shirt, wiping her nose on it in the process.


William laid a kiss on the crown of her head and whispered, “You know he does.” Even he couldn’t deny that.


Spike cupped her face and turned it towards him. He knew what his Slayer needed. “We all do.” He kissed her, not with the slow tenderness she expected, but with a fiery passion that reminded her of the grunting, wild couplings they once shared. He pulled back when she needed to catch her breath, only to pull William in for a kiss just as urgent and passionate.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Giles once again paced the length of the living room over and over, trying to settle his thoughts before joining the rest and finding out what, if anything, they’d come up with. He’d sent Andrew home, having done his best not to bash his head in. It wasn’t the boy’s fault. He was the only one to blame, and he didn’t want to avoid that blame. He wanted Buffy to know he realized how much he’d hurt her, and that he would do everything within his power to never cause her pain again, and to ensure she was happy with her choices. Only he wasn’t sure letting the three of them know about the possibility of another Universe, another Buffy at risk of perish was step to that direction.


Finally making a decision, he walked briskly to his study and sat behind his mahogany desk. It never ceased to amaze him, the wealth and resources the Council had at its disposal, or how easily he’d adapted to using them. Ripping a sheet of paper out of his personalized correspondence block, he started putting everything he wanted to apologize for on paper.


My dearest Buffy,




~~~~~*~~~~~



When Spike pulled both his older self and Buffy up and walked backwards towards the bedroom, gracing the two of them with his sexiest leer, William had one of those moments of realization that rarely occur except for hindsight. He knew at that moment if that night wasn’t the last, it was one of the last the three would spend together. Spike meant to tell them goodbye.








Tbc.

Chapter 5







Whatever it was that Dawn was supposed to be looking for was stubbornly avoiding her. She kept telling herself she’d outgrown the stomping of feet and whining, but a part of her wanted to just close the book, go put makeup on and hit the night scene with all the force her age dictated. She wasn’t a Slayer, not even a potential. So she was a key, but one with a hot body that needed to dance once in a while.


And she didn’t want to research reasons why her sister being happy was wrong.


Xander seemed to be thinking the same, because every couple of pages he’d remember something completely unimportant that he just had to share with her right then, and the two would procrastinate as much as possible without feeling guilty that they weren’t doing as Giles had told them.


Not that they had much to feel guilty for. Even without the procrastination it wasn’t possible to find helpful information in the middle of the night when they didn’t even know what they were looking for. And most of the stupid books didn’t even have an index. Who could spot the words “temporal distortion” or “alternate universe generation” among hundreds of pages without a clue about where to start from?


Xander let his head drop and hit the open book in front of him. “This won’t work.”


“Nope.” Dawn barely contained her glee at not being the first to concede defeat.


“And I’m betting Giles knew that.”


The thought hadn’t crossed her mind. “What do you mean? Why would he have us do it, then?”


“I’m guessing things were about to get ugly and you were deemed too young to be there for it.” The brunet stuck out his tongue at her.


“Well, if that’s the case, so were you.” She shrugged and gave him a saccharine smile.


“Nah-uh, I was just appointed as your babysitter.” He almost winked before he considered the uselessness of that, when he only had one eye to close, and settled for tickling her side.


She brushed him off and stood to look through their vast library for another book. “Well, as long as we’re here, we might as well do something with our time.” An engine starting made her go to the window in time to see Buffy slam her car door shut and the two Vampires run to get in. “And I’m guessing your guessing was right.”


He joined her and saw the car back out of the driveway, then disappear in breakneck speed. “I just hope things didn’t go FUBAR.”


“Xander Harris, you know what military talk does to me,” Dawn purred, batting her eyelashes.


He took her mock flirt light heartedly as he always did, and replied with an exaggerated sigh, “If only your sister couldn’t kick my ass so hard.”


They went back to the table and their reading, both praying things could be fixed this time, and stay fixed for a change.



~~~~~*~~~~~



In her meditation room, Willow was having a hard time maintaining the balance necessary to communicate with the Coven, and her disappointment in herself for that only led to a vicious circle, since it threw her concentration even further off. She tried to invoke the feelings she had the first time she channelled the Goddess through her, something she always used to help her focus, but it was like her anchor was wavering. Feeling Kennedy’s hand tighten around hers, she knew her lover sensed it too. She had been her kite-string, but things weren’t like they used to be, and they owed each other some explanations and one last effort to either salvage their relationship or bow out of it gracefully.


Finally giving up on her attempts to reach the Coven that way, she opened her eyes and exhaled noisily.


“So we finally get to use the new cell phone?” Kennedy grinned and Willow couldn’t resist grinning back. Maybe there was some hope yet.


“Yup. It’s time for that big step.” She let out a giggle that was supposed to be carefree but sounded forced. “Only I don’t know what exactly I’m supposed to ask them. And—and Giles still isn’t here. Are Buffy and the… guys still in the living room?”


All it took for Kennedy to go from being her lover to being that person she’d been drifting apart from lately was her best friend’s name. “No. Heard that piece of junk back out of the driveway a while ago.” Her face was cold.


Once more, Willow chose the easy way of not asking questions and vowed to herself that next time they’d talk about things, they’d figure it all out.


She’d been choosing that particular course of inaction for a while now, ever since their first big fight when they arrived in Rome, all the time trying hard to suppress the bleak feeling that all the postponed talks would come back to haunt her. Soon.


They were in bed, wrapped around each other, celebrating their first night together in the new house. The sex had been amazing, and all Willow wanted to do was snuggle up in her lover’s arms and drift off.


Kennedy obviously had other plans. “Why do you pull back every time I try to kiss you in front of the others? They know we’re together.”


“It’s not… it’s not that, it’s Buffy.”


“What about her?” The Slayer tensed.


“She has lost–she’s alone.”


“She’s been alone for a while, she’ll deal.” Kennedy tried to kiss her and she pulled back again, trying to explain.


“It’s not the same, baby. Look at her! She seems so… so lost. I think she needs-”


“I don’t care what she needs.” Kennedy threw the covers off her and sat up. “You don’t wanna kiss me? Fine! Don’t kiss me. You don’t even have to sleep with me.” She pulled her arm away violently when the redhead reached out to touch her. “I mean the vampire she was fucking is dust, and she sleeps alone.” Kennedy slammed the door behind her as she left the room.


Kennedy had returned to the bedroom they shared after Willow begged her, but seemed to constantly be on edge for the week it took Buffy to find a place of her own and move there with Dawn. She’d been increasingly aggressive every time the older Slayer’s name was mentioned since then and openly challenging every time she saw Buffy, but the witch pretended not to notice the tension between her lover and best friend. She didn’t want to have to choose, and the feeling that she would have to someday, made her all the more understanding of what Buffy had gone through when she was seeing Spike.


And now, Spike was back. Two versions of him to be precise and Buffy was happy again. Giles’ words came back to her and chilled her to the bone. What if whatever happened on that other helix of their Universe created by Spike’s plucking from it was so unbelievably horrible, Buffy couldn’t live with it? What if she decided she had to let go of Spike? Willow shuddered as she tried to put herself in her best friend’s place. If Tara had come back and she had to be taken away again…


Blushing, she pushed the thought away. She shouldn’t be thinking how much losing Tara again would hurt. If she wanted to parallel her feelings to Buffy’s she should contemplate the hurt losing Kennedy would cause her. She didn’t know why she didn’t. Rather, she didn’t want to know.


She sighed in relief when Giles finally showed up, even though he seemed really distraught. She didn’t notice Kennedy’s knowing look.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Modern technology was a miracle. What would have taken him half an hour of meditation just took the pushing of a few buttons, and Giles was talking to Miss Harkness. Her mellow, cultured voice, always soothing to his ears in the past, echoed with concern once he explained the reason he was calling, and especially after he mentioned Willow wasn’t able to reach her on the astral level. Miss Harkness showing concern was far from ordinary, and the Head Watcher felt something akin to panic wash over him for a moment, before managing to stifle it for the sake of resolving the matter.


“From the past, you say? Intriguing. There has been no known incident of a person occupying the same space as themselves in a different point in time.”


“Quite. Which leads me to consider the possibility of a dichotomy in the timeline.”


“A split in time? Such an occurrence, though not common, is much more possible. The resulting universe, however, would be in grave peril.”


“Because of how it was created?”


Miss Harkness let out a delicate and very ladylike snort that had the amazing effect of making one Rupert Giles, fifty six years of age, and Head of the Council of Watchers across the Atlantic from her, feel like a child being chastised for not having done his homework. “Of course not, my dear. Because that naughty vampire you currently have a surplus of won’t be around to save the world the two times he did in our timeline.”


Giles ran his hand over his face, uncharacteristically forgetting his glasses and dislodging them in the process. He absentmindedly took them off, handed them to Willow – who looked at him like he’d sprouted a second head – and asked, “What would be the backlash, if any, to our own Universe?”


This time her voice was low, speculative, when she replied, “I would expect you to know that, Rupert. All things are connected. There will be an effect to our Universe, although I cannot foresee its magnitude.”


He’d guessed she might say that even before he made the call, however much he wished she wouldn’t. “But maybe without Spike there someone else can step up and save the world.” He was hoping she would agree, give him some hope.


“Possibly. And possibly die in Sunnydale, therefore not be around for the Los Angeles battle. Even if they don’t, the outcome is unpredictable.”


He didn’t know if she was talking about Buffy or Angel. Either of them could have fit the bill, and he felt bad at how he would sacrifice either in that other Universe to safeguard the happiness of his one time charge. A thought flashed in his mind and he switched the phone to his other hand, grasping Willow’s shoulder. “What if we could somehow contact them? Let them know what to expect?”


“To do that you would have to be able to pinpoint the exact Universe created from the split. I’m afraid we can’t help you there. The only way to do that with any certainty would be if we were led to it by the creature that created the time paradox in the first place.”


Giles nodded curtly even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “I was afraid you would say that, but it may be worth a try. Thank you, Miss Harkness.”



“Don’t do anything rash, Rupert. There is too much at stake.”



“Goodbye.” He slid the phone shut and turned to face the girls.



“Giles? What did she say?” Willow’s worry was etched all over her face. Kennedy seemed impassive, but the way her fingers drummed on the wall belied her cool.


“I can’t—I can’t do that, Willow.” His shoulders slumped and he seemed to lose substance, becoming as fragile as he looked when Buffy jumped off the tower. “I can’t tell her to give up her happiness again, no matter the cost.”


Kennedy narrowed her eyes looking from her watcher to her girlfriend who seemed to understand what he meant. “What cost exactly are we talking about?”




~~~~~*~~~~~



When Giles had called him back, Andrew was expecting to be yelled at for being a blabber mouth. Instead he was given an assignment, one of great importance, as the older man had pointed out.


The letter felt heavy in his jacket pocket, and he itched to read what was in there but knew that would be greatly frowned upon, never mind just plain wrong.


Still, he had been an evil mastermind once. And the letter wasn’t sealed.


Maybe the Watcher subconsciously meant for him to read it. Maybe it was something written while in distress and the Slayer and her lovers shouldn’t actually read it…


Convincing himself it was for the greater good, he walked into a café, ordered an espresso, and opened the envelope.


My dearest Buffy,


I know I am the last person you want to talk to right now, but I do hope that in the memory of how close we once were you will give me the chance to apologize for having hurt you so much. Because I really am sorry.


I am sorry for every time I have betrayed your trust in me, because of what I was conditioned to consider a higher cause. Please understand that it was never my purpose to hurt you; I was just trained to think within the box and in terms of black and white.


I am sorry for having allowed the Council to put you through the savagery that was Cruciamentum. You were but a child and I allowed my teaching to make me treat you as a mere weapon at our disposal.


I am sorry for being so judgemental of your relationship with Angel that I forced you to hide its true nature from me, and I am sorry for blaming you for what came of it just because I was too short-sighted to protect you.


I am sorry for forcing upon you choices you should never have to make; for burdening you with the world itself and trying to take away the things that helped make you happy because I saw them as distractions.


I am sorry I chose the least fortunate moment to decide you should make do on your own. Leaving you to your own devices when you had been resurrected and were obviously dealing with more than your fair share of responsibility might have been my duty as a Watcher, but it was not what I should have done as a father, and to me, my dear girl, you were always a daughter.


I am sorry, so very sorry, for allying with Principal Wood to rid ourselves of Spike. I knew what a powerful ally he was to you, how he could support you in ways I couldn’t, and yet I refused to see beyond the fact that he was a suitor I did not approve of. And I did it again when Angel asked for our help. Blinded by my personal feelings I refused to give the matter any thought before turning down his plea for help.


I am but an old fool. I have failed you so many times, assuring myself I knew what was best for you, closing my ears to what you told me you wanted, or choosing to disregard it if what I saw you needed was not what I wished for you, that I do not know how to atone.


I know I am willing to try, though.


You have become a wonderful young woman, strong in ways I could never teach you, and I can only hope you can find it in your heart to give me a chance to regain even a fraction of the relationship we once had.


If you cannot, I beg of you, at least give me a chance to – for once – do right by you, and help you in whichever way you need me to.


All my love,
Rupert


Andrew wiped his nose on the back of his hand. “This man is my Yoda,” he whispered. His mind was filled with scenarios of how Buffy would react to the heartfelt letter, and he could almost see her run to Giles and hug him, telling him all was forgiven. Then Giles would shake Spike’s and William’s hands and welcome them to the big happy family they’d become.


He took a few minutes to swoon, paid for his coffee and headed to Buffy’s.


After ringing a couple of times, he decided nobody was coming to the door – despite the muffled giggles and growls he could hear from inside – so he slipped the letter under the door and went back home. Mission accomplished.






Tbc.

Chapter 6






Spike led his lovers to the bedroom, walking backwards. He stopped in the doorway to the room, so that the three of them formed a perfect triangle. It would be one of the last times that would be true, but he refused to let that thought mess up his plans for the night.


“No clothes inside this room,” he said with the same serious tone of voice he used to let Slayers know he’d kill them, or fuck them raw.


The time apart hadn’t erased Buffy’s conditioned reaction to that tone. Although she had been wet since he kissed her, hearing him like that made a new wave of desire course through her veins. It was like raw power was generated deep inside her, flashing in all directions inside her and giving birth to an aching need in her core that only he, past, present, or alternate, could sate. Her fingertips were tingling with the desire to touch him, but instead started fumbling with the belt on her tight jeans.


William knew that voice all that well too, and smelling the result of it on Buffy, decided it was about time he used it again. “You heard the man. Clothes off, kitten. Now!”


Spike refused to give him the upper hand. “You too, you ponce. Are you waitin’ for a special invite?”


Whatever thoughts of entering a pissing contest with his former self crossed William’s mind, did so fleetingly when he saw the Slayer was now bending over to undo her bootlaces. Adhering to Spike’s orders he made short work of his clothes, while Buffy had one boot to go before being able to take off her pants. Kneeling naked in front of her he said, “Let me help you with that,” and she did. He was having an extremely hard time trying to refrain from touching her once she was naked and open in front of him, but he somehow sensed Spike’s need to call the shots. Turning on his heel, still crouched, he asked the bleached Vampire, “Will you stay clothed?”


Spike chuckled, and the sound was dark chocolate and velvet, fraught with promises and lust. His voice was husky and his eyes hooded with desire when he said, “No. I want you to undress me.”


William’s scarred eyebrow formed an arch and Buffy’s nails dug into his shoulder. He should know by now how much he affected her, how much both of them did, still, every time she reacted to him with such evident need it was like his heart could beat again. He nodded at her and stood up.


The effortless grace with which he stood was a trademark of his. His body seemed boneless, fluid, every time he went from a sitting, crouching – even fallen on his ass – position was one of the reasons she loved sparring with him. She wanted to kick him down just so she could watch him rise, and she didn’t care how screwed up that was. His open palm at the small of her back, in a gesture that shouldn’t be sexual yet made her moan, made her focus on the fact that a totally naked Spike was next to her and a soon to be naked one awaited for her assistance. She leered, running her tongue over her teeth and stalked towards her still dressed lover.


Spike was pretty sure his jeans would explode before the other two got time to unbutton them. Watching them saunter toward him, he was struck by what a magnificent couple they made. They were hunters on the prowl and he was their prey. Never before had a prey felt so lucky.


When they reached him, William pulled him for a hard kiss, smashing their lips together. He sucked on his tongue and massaged it with his in a manner that made Spike wish the man would put those lips and tongue to work around his cock before he burned from the inside out. Letting a bit of fang nip the other vampire’s lower lip, William sucked on it and then pulled back to circle him, smacking his lips and leisurely pumping his cock.


Buffy, was still mesmerized by the sight of the two men kissing. However, she couldn’t tear her eyes from the rhythmic way the hard shaft disappeared into the vampire’s grasp on every down stroke, only to peek out the other side of his fist for his thumb to rub over the weeping slit. Then William was behind Spike and out of her line of vision.


“I believe there is something you should be doing,” he chastised her over the other man’s shoulder, and she dropped to her knees in front of Spike. She meant to tease him, wanted to make him need to be inside her as much as she did, so she was very careful not to touch him while unbuttoning his fly. She smiled to herself when his hips jerked forward seeking some contact. Instead of giving it to him, she made sure to rid him of both boots and jeans, and a look up showed her that William was taking care of his shirt, bunching the material upwards as his big palms drew circles on Spike’s taut abs.


Spike was finding it increasingly difficult to think with what the other two blonds were doing to him. The Slayer was now holding his hips still and flicking her tongue over the head of his cock, while William was rubbing his shaft between his butt cheeks, his fingers twisting Spike’s nipples and his teeth grazing his neck. He wanted to beg for her to take him in her mouth and him to spread him with his fingers, but was afraid if he’d open his mouth he’d end up blubbering like a fool.


It turned out he didn’t have to voice his thoughts after all. William brought his hand to his lips, and, having made sure to lather his two first fingers with saliva, slipped it between Spike’s buttocks and began massaging the area around his puckered hole. Spike clenched instinctively at first, then relaxed as Buffy circled the head of his manhood with her lips and began sucking his length inside her mouth with agonizing slowness.


When William pushed both fingers inside him, Spike’s hips jolted forward but Buffy seemed to have anticipated the movement. Instead of gagging or protesting, she deep throated him, tightening her grip on his hips to hold him still as William wrapped an arm around his torso and started pumping his fingers inside him hard and fast. The angle of penetration meant the long digits rubbed against his prostate on every stroke. Buffy’s throat was squeezing him oh so right, and William’s cock was rubbing between his thighs, nudging his scrotum, and Spike couldn’t take anymore.


“Buffy,” he managed to gasp, “I want—inside you…” All sensations ceased at once, there was nothing filling him up, nothing scorching him with agonizing bliss. He would weep if Buffy hadn’t now turned her back on him to crawl towards the bed, her ass swaying tantalizingly in the air and allowing him a view of her glistening pussy.


“Fuck,” he heard behind him, and knew that William was having the same thoughts of plundering that pussy and that ass for all he was worth.


Fuck, indeed. Fuck other Universes and other Slayers who were hard and unyielding where this one was soft and inviting, and sprawled on the bed on her stomach, ass still teasing him.


William pushed him forward gently, and Spike found he was capable of moving. More than that, he managed to swagger to her, grab her ankles and flip her on her back. “Want to be lookin’ at you,” he whispered, burying his face in her golden hair where it fanned around her head like a halo.


She wrapped herself around him, pulling him into her arms and her body. He sank inside her to the hilt, marvelling – as he always did when they were joined like that – at what a perfect fit they were. The thought occurred to him that she was a perfect fit for William, that he wasn’t the one she was made for, that there was another Buffy somewhere out there, he was supposed to make happy or die trying.


He could cry or he could fuck her like there was no tomorrow. He went for option two.


His hands pushed under her ass, cupping her cheeks and squeezing them as he lifted her hips to find the perfect angle, the one that would make her scream his name to high Heavens and cum with just a few pumps of his hips, because he doubted he could last long. A moan reached his ears and he realized it came not from the woman under him but from the man behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw William frantically working his cock, his eyes glued to the couple on the bed. “What are you doin’,” he panted, “all the way over there?”


William startled. “You didn’t seem to want to share,” he said with a shrug.


“I don’ want to share.” He plunged inside Buffy, pinching her clit when he sensed her fervour lessen without his attention fully on her. “I want you to share.”


William said nothing, but his grin was more than eloquent as he approached the bed.


Spike was expecting to be fucked, having seen the hard-on his older self sported. What he didn’t expect was for William to spread his cheeks open and start sucking and licking on the tender flesh of his anus before slowly, almost hesitantly pushing two fingers inside again.


“Oi! What’s with the gentle routine?” Spike’s bravado was a cover for the fact that he couldn’t hold back much longer and wanted the other vampire to be with him when he came.


William said nothing. He withdrew his fingers and took hold of his cock. Spike, feeling the movement behind him, stilled and took a deep breath, bracing himself. William, however, started rubbing his length against Spike’s shaft and Buffy’s pussy, making it slick with her juices before positioning himself at Spike’s entrance.


Curling one hand around Spike’s neck proprietarily, he pushed forward ever so slowly, pausing after each inch of his member was inside the other man’s ass. Halfway in he had to grit his teeth to hold back. “Do you want it?” he asked.


Spike nodded but could make no sound the way Buffy was squeezing him inside her and smiling at him so cheekily at the same time he was being filled by his souled version.


William let his head drop between the bleached vampire’s shoulder blades and licked his way up to his neck. “Please tell me you want it,” he begged.


Buffy loved Spike’s feel inside her, but would scream unless he started moving soon. Grabbing his ass, she dug her nails in his flesh and spread him even more. “Tell him,” she whispered against his ear and nibbled on the lobe.


“Tell me,” said William again, then leaned to the side and captured Buffy’s lips with his own.


“Fuck, yes, please, I want it. Fuck. Fuck me, both of you.”


William shoved the rest of his length inside as Buffy pushed her hips upwards. Almost immediately they fell into the rhythm the three had established the past few days, and soon Spike was torn by a whirlwind of sensations and emotions, all vying for his attention. Before he could make sense of it all, and decide which pleasure was more intense, which feeling was most important, his brain short-circuited and he came with a roar of something that sounded like love.


His lovers soon followed him, with William being the last to fall over the edge. He had felt what Spike hadn’t realized; the order of importance his younger self placed on things.


Still piled in a heap, they heard a knock on the door and Andrew calling. Buffy raised her hand, as if reaching for something to hold on to then let it drop to the mattress again. “Ah, fuck it.”


“Again?” asked Spike around one of her breasts, which had somehow found its way into his mouth.


“I’m up for it.” William stressed his point by rubbing his member on Spike’s thigh, and the latter let out a ‘pfft’ sound, without withdrawing his mouth from his prize.


Buffy giggled and Spike let go of her nipple with a plop to silence her with a kiss, while William chastised her. “Do you want Andrew to hear us and barge in?”


She shook her head no, solemnly, then giggled again when William pumped his hips against Spike and the latter turned from the waist up to smack him upside the head. He missed, to the amusement of the other two. Suddenly sombre, Spike framed Buffy’s face with his palms, causing her to cease her laughter, and said, “I have something to tell you.”


William tensed above him. “Maybe later? Not just now. Don’t ruin this.”


Turning awkwardly Spike asked, “You know?” just as Buffy worriedly asked what they were talking about, at the same time trying to slide her lower body out from under the two vampires. It seemed like serious talk time, and she wasn’t sure she could handle that the way they were at the moment.

William shrugged. “Of course I know. I know what you think. I’m you.”

“Will someone also tell me, cuz I’m not either of you?” Buffy was getting worried, and worried Buffy was a pissy Buffy, ninety nine percent of the time. She dodged Spike’s effort to kiss her again. “Tell me.”


Spike sighed. He didn’t know why he’d gone and opened his bloody mouth just then. “You know I love you, right?” he started.






Tbc.

Chapter 7


“Will someone also tell me, cuz I’m not either of you?” Buffy was getting worried, and worried Buffy was a pissy Buffy, ninety nine percent of the time. She dodged Spike’s effort to kiss her again. “Tell me.”


Spike sighed. He didn’t know why he’d gone and opened his bloody mouth just then. “You know I love you, right?” he started.


~~~~~*~~~~~


Spike looked at William again, then at his hands as they now lay splayed on either side of Buffy’s serious face. He drew his knuckles down her jaw line, sighed, and started worrying the skin around his thumbnail with his teeth.


Impatiently, Buffy pulled it away from his mouth. “Tell me, please.”


“Buffy…” Her name, uttered like this, in a voice choked with tears was enough for her to know what he was getting at.


“No.” She shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks to soak the sheet. Spike tried to pull her close while William rolled away to the side of them, but she thumped her fists against his chest, fighting his grasp.


Staying Spike with one hand, his heart breaking at the lost look on both his lovers’ faces, William managed to slide one arm beneath Buffy’s back and pull her as close to him as he could with her lower body still pinned to the bed by Spike.


She hid her face against William’s chest, chanting, “No, no, no, no.” She knew the look on Spike’s face, had seen it before when he was swallowed by the gaping maw of the Hellmouth. It was the face goodbye wore. If she held her eyes closed and her face averted then maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with it; wouldn’t have to let go of him again.


William stroked her hair but her sobs wouldn’t subside. Spike left her body and the bed to light a cigarette he found in the crumbled soft packet he fished from his duster’s pocket where it lay on the floor. He didn’t enjoy the smoke like he’d expected. He didn’t even feel the taste of the bloody thing. The only flavor in his mouth was the bitterness of having let his girl down again. He wanted to laugh at the irony. His Slayer finally loved him and he had to give her up to go help the version of her that despised him. He saw William’s eyes upon him and turned to face out the window. He didn’t want his older self to see him cry, crying was for souled ponces. “I have to go. I can’t leave you,” he all but whispered, his breath clouding the glass.


“Then don’t leave me.” A tingle of hope made her voice stronger and she looked to William for confirmation of that hope, but he just shook his head, his face grim.


“Don’t leave me,” she said again. Gathering the sheet around her naked form, she wobbled to him on legs shaky from exertion and fear. “You’re supposed to be the one that never left. And you’ve been away for so long…” She stood next to him, she too looking out the window. She may have grown up in many ways, but she still didn’t like seeing his beautiful eyes overtaken by sorrow… or showing him how weak being without him made her feel.


“I can’t leave you to face the Hellmouth alone. I can’t let you face everythin’, thinkin’ I gave up on you because you wouldn’t sleep with me anymore… I can’t…” His voice broke and she wrapped an arm around him.


William came to stand behind her, staring at her reflection in the glass. She seemed to stand alone there, being whipped by the sudden storm that broke outside. Her calling meant she was destined to always stand alone, but he was above destiny. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said. “But Spike has to, and you know that, luv.” Spreading his arms around both his lovers’ shoulders, he turned them around and led them back to the bed.


“I have to, but not yet.” Spike kissed her and, when she lay down, slipped back inside her. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”


William lay on his side, holding his own tears at bay. He’d have to be her strength, their strength. He should be happy to have her all to himself soon, but his chest ached at what Spike would go through after leaving them. And God only knew how things would turn out this time around. They had no way of knowing how time moved in the Universe Buffy’s wish had created, or what had transpired since Spike left. He had the fleeting thought that maybe they wouldn’t be able to send Spike back, and his insides knotted at how devastated the other vampire would be if he couldn’t save the girl. He squeezed his eyes shut as a pang went through his chest when remembering how torn up he’d felt after her fall from the Tower.


He heard her say, “I love you” and opened his eyes to see her reaching out to him. Moving closer to steal kisses from both of them, he silently vowed to do his best to be enough for her when she needed him. And he’d do anything in his power to see Spike had a chance at happiness… whatever his future held for him.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Willow and Kennedy had a terrible night. One that would most probably be the last they shared as a couple. Shortly after Giles had explained to the best of his ability what possible repercussions Spike being present in their time line could have, Kennedy had started yelling. She called them irresponsible, and Willow could live with that, but then she called Buffy a self-centred bitch, and the redhead couldn’t just sit back and take it. Not after all her best friend had gone through, after all she’d given up.


“What’s your problem with Buffy? Why do you always attack her?” she finally asked resignedly after having spent several hours arguing that the Slayer deserved some happiness, finally, and that whatever was to happen to the other Universe was by no means Buffy’s responsibility.


“She is my problem. She and how you are around her,” Kennedy hissed, her voice lower than it had been at any point during the night. “You’re like her lap-dog, bouncing around her for a pat on the head and a treat.” Something caught in her throat, and she cleared it, her voice coming out loud and clear after that. “When we became a couple I knew I would have to compete for your affections with a ghost, but I didn’t sign on to share you with her as well.”


“What—what are you talking about? What ghost?” Willow’s eyes widened comically. “And—and it’s not like that with Buffy, she’s my friend.”


“I’m talking about Tara’s ghost.”


Willow blinked.


“Oh, come on, Willow. She’s here, she’s everywhere!” Kennedy pulled the covers off the bed and threw them across the room to land in a heap on the floor. “She’s in fucking bed with us.” The redhead opened her mouth to object, but didn’t get a chance. “Don’t you dare deny it!” Kennedy kicked at the bed, dislodging a leg and making the whole thing lean to the right. “It’s ok,” she said offhandedly, seemingly calmer. “I don’t mind. I mean, I do, I shouldn’t be competing for you, but with her it’s kind of ok… understandable. You loved her and she was taken from you, and it hurts, baby, I know.” Her eyes softened and she made to caress her girlfriend’s face, but her anger came back tenfold when she saw her lover shy away from her touch. “What, now you’re afraid of me? You’re a fucking witch, Willow.” She threw her arms up in frustration. “More than that. A Goddess. And what do you do with all that power? Dance to an ex-slayer’s rhythm.” She grabbed the Wicca by the arms and drew her close. “Why do you do this to us? Why do you do this to yourself?”


Willow felt bad. She knew she shouldn’t have been so insensitive to her girlfriend’s insecurities, should have brought her in closer with her friends, should have shown her she was special in her life and didn’t have to compete with anyone. Her hands came up to link together at the small of Kennedy’s back, her body leaning in, poised for making up. She could make everything better, and this time no magic would be involved.


“You could send Spike back and make everything right, but you won’t, just so that Buffy can have double the pleasure,” the brunette went on, her words dripping with malice. “You would feel better if you just stood up to her and did the right thing,” she added, but Willow had suddenly had enough. Not of this conversation, that seemed long overdue, but of Kennedy.

“This…” power started thrumming inside Willow, making her body hum. “Is not about me.” Kennedy was thrown across the room, caught in the torrent of power to land on her ass in the pile of beddings. Airborne Slayer wasn’t Willow’s intention, but she wasn’t entirely dissatisfied with the outcome, either. “This is not about Buffy. Or Tara.” She stalked over to the brunette, her eyes blazing, but thankfully still their normal deep forest green colour. “This is about you not wanting to share your toys.”


She was now standing over Kennedy, feet planted on either side of the other girl’s hips. “What you fail to understand,” her voice was steely, with no sign of her usual, nervous speech patterns, “is that you don’t have any toys.” Her nostrils flared. “Buffy is not an ex-slayer. She is the Slayer. The one who was around, saving the world, while you were being spoon fed your egg by your butler. She has lost everything but the handful of people living here and those two Vampires, who are the only ones who never gave up on her. Even if you don’t care about that, after she decided to share her Calling with you, with all of you, stepping down from being the only one, you owe her your respect.” Her hands flexed at her sides, the effort to contain her wrath and power almost palpable. Kennedy was frozen, not used to this side of her normally mellow and sweet lover. “That woman is my best friend and I love her. She’s been around long before you, and trust me, Kennedy, the way you’re acting, she’ll be around long after you’re gone. If I have to ignore an entire Universe that means nothing to me for her to be happy, I will. And,” she added pointedly, “God help anyone who tries to get in the way of my friend being happy.”


She reached down and the young Slayer flinched, but Willow was only offering to help her up. The brunette took her proffered hand and stood in front of her. “Whatever happens to that Universe will affect everything,” Kennedy warned with vehemence, her eyes narrowed.


“If—if it affects us, Buffy and we will handle it.” Willow smiled sadly. “I hope you’ll decide to be with the ‘we’ when that happens.”


Seeing the old Willow, the one she could handle, Kennedy shook her head noncommittally and walked past her to the closet. Taking her sword out, she unsheathed it and drew the curtains to look outside. “Still an hour `til dawn,” she commented, as if they’d been talking about that and not bringing down what was left of their relationship. “I’ll go see if there are any nasties about.”


Willow nodded; her back to the Slayer. For the first time since they’d gotten together, she didn’t tell her to be careful out there.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Adalberto got out of bed before his lover. He had worn her out, so didn’t begrudge her. Throwing his plush robe on, without bothering to tie its sash, confident in his nudity, he called for one of the servants to bring them breakfast in bed, before opening the drapes just enough for some of the grey, early morning light to glide over the floor and bathe Sofia in its soft glow. He stood there, studying her, until the breakfast cart was brought to them and heavenly smelling coffee was served.


He liked spoiling his women, always had. He wanted to lavish them with anything and everything they asked for, and things they didn’t think to ask. It wasn’t for their sake, but for his; he wanted to be considered a great lover, and that extended to include his behaviour outside the bedroom. There was only one thing he never did for them, he never kept them for longer than he meant to from the start. No matter how good they looked, how pliable, how good in bed they were, his women had an expiration date. It had always been that way, and always would be. Some were with him for days, or months, and a lucky few, like Sofia, were his for years.


She belonged to him, as did her mother before her, and her grandmother before that. Was his to do with as he pleased, and he pleased to do a lot. Maybe some would be done right after breakfast, they still had a little time. He grinned and drew the covers off her supple body, letting his eyes take her beauty in again. She was the most beautiful of the women in her line he had been with, a great conversationalist, with a taste for the finer things that matched his. Yet it was more than that that made her such a prized lover. Sofia had a stubborn streak that he hadn’t managed to quell, one that didn’t yield to his power over her, and he marvelled in it as much as he wanted to erase the defiance from her eyes every time her lips and body gave in to him.


Laying a kiss on her shoulder, he brushed her hair out of her face to whisper in her ear, “Cara, breakfast is served.”


“Mmm…” A long-fingered hand covered her lovely yawn and her long eyelashes fluttered open. “It’s too early for breakfast,” she purred.


He took in the graceful curves of her body, as she stretched with feline grace before sitting up and flipping her raven locks over her shoulders. Everything about her was beauty and sensuality and he was quite pleased that he still had a few years with her in his service. “Your day will start early today, bella,” he said.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Kennedy hadn’t looked up at their bedroom window as she left the manor. She usually would, and Willow would be standing there waving, and maybe even blow her a kiss. She knew Willow wouldn’t be there this time, and that caused a hurt deep inside and tears to spring in her eyes. Everything was fucked up, and it was all because of Buffy.


Kennedy had never loved anyone but her family before Willow. The protected manner in which she’d been brought up, as well as the constant reminder of her social status, had meant zero contact with girls her age during early childhood and then only those weird, social-status-based ‘friendships’ when she went to school. If her parents told her to hang out with someone because they would be good for her, she would. She’d never invested emotionally in those surrounding her, though, because they were all there to serve a purpose, let alone the fact they all were slightly beneath her social status.


When she met Willow, she was drawn in by the girl’s shyness. It was obvious the young Wicca had no idea how pretty she was, and that was something unprecedented in the circles Kennedy associated with until then. After realizing how powerful the redhead was, that shyness became all the more endearing, alluring even. She didn’t want Kennedy because she had something to gain from being with her, neither did she expect her to be flawless, so Kennedy found herself relaxing more and more with the realization that she was being genuinely cared for. When Willow took her side against Buffy, that night in Sunnydale, Kennedy realized she was in love.


When Willow looked at Buffy in amazement after the Hellmouth was nothing but a crater, the brunette felt the first ugly stab of jealousy right to her heart.


Sure, she’d seen Buffy through antagonistic eyes before, but that was only because she truly felt the older Slayer was doing things wrong… and maybe because she was envious of Buffy for being the Chosen One when odds were against Kennedy achieving that singular status. After that look, however, she was afraid she’d never be number one in Willow’s heart.


She reached the cemetery now, knowing she’d find nothing to kill – which might be good, since her concentration was far from being at its best. Still, she was itching for a good fight, wanted to dust something and get some of the frustration and hurt out of her system, so she kept to the less lit parts, alternatively dragging and stomping her feet to attract the attention of any baddies stupid enough not to have left a city chock full of slayers.


None showed up though, and soon the tears in her eyes started spilling out, blurring her vision. She loved Willow enough to not mind being overshadowed by Tara, the perfect lover who would never get the chance to make a mistake because she was dead. To accept Buffy as the all-knowing perfect woman, even though she ignored everything her calling demanded of her and had slept with the enemy on numerous occasions was beyond her, however. Even if she didn’t resent that Willow would always choose Buffy over her, after that one magnificent night the Slayer was driven out of her own house… she would never forgive Buffy the disrespect she showed every one of Angel’s and Spike’s victims by not slaying those responsible and instead, taking them into her bed. Some part of her whispered that maybe what she hated the most about the blonde was how she threatened her view of the world as being purely black and white, but she silenced that voice by kicking at a fallen gravestone so hard her boot chipped a flake of marble off it.


Why couldn’t Willow see how much she loved her? Why couldn’t she see that whatever Buffy thought she and those abominations had – because William was an abomination too, soul or no soul – it wasn’t love and a chance at happiness?


Why couldn’t anyone see that Kennedy was right, and that she was alone, and that her heart was breaking?


She fell to her knees, weeping, and started thumping her fists against the unlucky headstone until her knuckles were bloody and the name of the deceased wiped off.

That’s when she heard a scream in the distance.


Springing to her feet, she ran towards the sound, blood smudging her cheeks as she tried to wipe the tears away.






Tbc.

Chapter 8



She fell to her knees, weeping, and started thumping her fists against the unlucky headstone until her knuckles were bloody and the name of the deceased wiped off.

That’s when she heard a scream in the distance.


Springing to her feet, she ran towards the sound, blood smudging her cheeks as she tried to wipe the tears away.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Sofia hated vinyl clothes. Fiercely.


She was surprised all the cricking noise her ridiculously short, neon blue skirt made hadn’t attracted every demon in the city, as she paced aimlessly up and down the street near the cemetery closest to the Manor. She felt like an idiot, and she felt like crying, but most of all she felt her ass sweat under the cheap material she never would have worn of her own accord.


Not that Adalberto was partial to low quality articles of clothing, or to trashy outfits like the one he’d left on her bed and instructed her to wear on her… mission. Quite the contrary, he wouldn’t be caught dead in synthetic, and had made sure Sofia felt the same way since she was six. He still told stories at dinner parties about the little girl who scrunched her nose adorably when her mother bought her a synthetic school bag and not a leather one. What he failed to mention was that he hadn’t heard that story from Sofia’s mother, but had witnessed the girl’s reaction himself. Of course that would raise eyebrows, and Adalberto wouldn’t have that.


Looking around, she decided nobody but she could hear the skirt, so she started clacking her heels louder and talking to herself.


“Hijo de puta woke me up so early.” Despite her bravado, she looked over her shoulder to ensure the Immortal wasn’t anywhere nearby. If he heard her he would be very displeased. She attributed the chill that ran down her spine to the cold permeating her barely-there top, and rationalized that she was cursing as part of her role. She had to look like a whore, so she was badmouthing her pimp. She flicked her hair in annoyance and scratched at her earlobe. Stupid fake earrings gave her an allergic reaction, but the man was set on authenticity when he told her to go where she now was and be attacked.


“Be attacked,” she groused, throwing her arms in the air. She had managed to lose her Spanish intonation of English in the years after her mother’s death, but both that and her temperament came back with a vengeance at times like this. “Be. Attacked.” She let out a surprised cry as her right heel snapped and she stumbled. If Adalberto could be killed without her losing her mother’s soul, she would end the cabron’s unnatural life right that minute.


She spat at the thought of him and then laughed bitterly at herself. For someone who despised him she sure had no problem cumming for him. Usually, when that thought crossed her mind she would tell herself that she had no choice if she wanted to live, but she knew that wasn’t true. The Immortal had a way of growing on people, showing them his best side, his wit, his generosity, his effortless charm, and when they were well and truly hooked he would let the evil seep in, in small doses so they didn’t realize that the things they forgave him kept becoming greater by the transgression.


She had figured him out by now, knew he wasn’t what he seemed to be, but it was still like he held her under some kind of spell. Her attraction to him couldn’t be denied; she found him irresistible at the same time that she wished he’d never touch her again, and that was the thing she hated the most about him. The fact that she couldn’t hate him utterly tore her up on a daily basis. She was nothing but a toy to him, she knew. She even knew her expiry date and what came after that… what the price would be if she tried to escape her fate. She couldn’t run. There was nowhere he couldn’t find her, no place safe. All she could do was stick it out and hope for a miracle.


Somebody grabbed her from behind, throwing her to the ground and she screamed at the top of her lungs, as talons dug into her shoulders and she felt something she really didn’t want to identify rub against her inner thigh.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Kennedy couldn’t pinpoint the exact source of the voice, only its general direction, and was half tempted to call out, “Keep screaming,” when the woman – it was definitely a woman – suddenly fell silent. Kennedy prayed the woman hadn’t been killed because she was too late finding her; because she was too caught up in her own little drama. She reached at her side only to mentally curse herself for having forgotten her sword at the graveyard, and hoped whatever situation she was running into could be resolved without it.


Another scream pierced the sky the moment the brunette broke through the line of hedges acting as the graveyard’s fence on that side. She looked to her right and managed to make out a weird shape in the distance. Clouds had gathered overhead, hiding the sparse light that signified the break of day. She sprinted that way and saw it was two shapes when she was just a few feet away. She didn’t even have to think about how to handle the situation. She kicked the vampire off the woman, yelling, “You’re so screwed, it’s not even funny.”


Sofia turned on her back and crawled backwards to the sidewalk as soon as the demon’s weight was lifted. She tried to assess the damage to her body while keeping an eye on the fight between her assailant and the girl who was obviously a slayer.


She wasn’t hurt, just scraped knees and hands from when he tackled her to the concrete, and scratches from his talons. He hadn’t had the time to bite her, not with all the grinding against her bare skin and telling her what he meant to do to her. He wasn’t going to kill her at once, he said. Just take enough of her blood to weaken her, but not enough so she wouldn’t feel him as he fucked every single hole her body possessed. Then he would make her bleed some more.


The young slayer feigned a punch to the vampire’s face, and when he snapped his upper body back to avoid it she swept his feet out from under him.


Sofia hadn’t really been afraid he’d get a chance to act on any of his threats, even as his foul breath caressed her cheek and grimy hands pawed her, tearing up her flimsy excuse of a top. The Immortal wouldn’t have any major damage done to his property, no matter the plan. She wished she knew his plan, but he wasn’t a man one could ask questions of easily. Plus, she knew that had she asked, he would have told her that he was going for realism, so she shouldn’t know anything more that what was absolutely necessary. She brushed some gravel off her knee caps and peeled dirt off her palms, thankful she’d had time to break her fall with her hands, saving her face any damage.


The slayer landed on her opponent’s stomach, and started reining fists on his face with hands that seemed too small to be turning it into red pulp like they did. “You’re disgusting,” she said while destroying his facial features. “You’re nothing. You’re dust. Nobody cares about you. That’s how it should be.”


Sofia saw the vampire’s body tense a minute before he bucked, but didn’t have time to warn the girl. The demon didn’t throw her off him, but managed to flip the two of them over, trapping her smaller body under his bulk. “I’m gonna drink you up,” he whispered hoarsely. “Then use the strength your blood will give me to make that one,” he indicated Sofia with a tilt of his head, “-experience more pain than she could ever imagine.” His hand was in the brunette’s hair, quick as lightening, pulling on it roughly to snap her head to the side and expose her neck to him. Sofia noticed the girl was smiling, and only had a second to wonder if the demon’s fangs had survived the pummelling before he was nothing more than dust, sprinkled all over the slayer’s body.


Kennedy tried to blink away the dust particles that had made it into her eyes and sputtered some ex-vampire off her mouth. “I hate it when I have to dust them from below,” she told nobody in particular before rolling to her side and slowly standing.


“That was—that was…” Sofia knew perfectly well what that was, but if she had to play the victim she would give an Oscar worthy performance; fear, shock, and Spanish accent.


“A vampire,” the Slayer offered and walked her way to help her get up. “Are you ok? Did he hurt you?”


Sofia winced when the other grasped her hand, scraping against the scratches on her palm. “I’m ok. I think.” The moment she was on her feet she started pulling on the hem of her skirt, trying to hide as much as she could. “If you hadn’t come when you did-” She trailed off, her face thoughtful. Truth be told, if she hadn’t shown up when she did, the vampire would have been dusted the moment the clouds lifted. It had obviously been a fledgling, and not a very bright one at that. “How did you happen to come by at this hour? And with… that,” she pointed at the stake Kennedy still held in her other hand, “-at the ready?”


“It’s a long story.”


“I have time.” Yes, she did. She’d gotten herself attacked, like the Immortal had told her to, and she had been saved by a Slayer who wasn’t Buffy - not that she’d ever seen that one up close. She had no clue what she was supposed to do next, however, and stalling until either an idea or Adalberto showed up seemed the best course of action. “Who are you, and how come you know about vampiros?”


“I’m Kennedy. And we should take you home.” She ignored the second part of the girl’s question and looked her over carefully. “You’ll be alright,” she declared finally. “Even if he bit you, you don’t turn into one of them like in the Hollywood movies.” She took hold of Sofia’s upper arm and tried to steer her towards the main street, in hopes of catching a cab. If she didn’t find one she’d have to call someone from the manor, and she really didn’t like that idea, but letting the pretty young woman walk to the hospital on her own seemed even less appealing.


Sofia was faking a limp and getting ready to test how she could physically resist a Slayer who wanted to drag her to safety, when a limo rounded the corner. The car slowed down as it passed by them, to come to a halt a few feet from where they were.


Swiftly replacing the stake in her hand with a dagger she had sheathed at the waistband of her jeans, Kennedy turned to look as the driver came out to open the passengers’ door.


At first glance, it seemed she wouldn’t need a weapon. The man that came out of the car was in his mid-thirties, extremely attractive, if one was interested in men, perfectly dressed and coiffed, and obviously worried. “Mi scuzi… stai bene?” he asked in a velvety voice.


“Fatti i fatti tuoi!” Sofia snapped at the man. Her arm wrapped around Kennedy’s waist and she leaned more of her weight against the brunette.


“I’m sorry,” the latter cut in. “Do you speak English?” Her dagger was hidden up her sleeve now, and she’d curled her own arm protectively around Sofia’s shoulders, which seemed kind of awkward, as the woman was taller than her.


“Ah, not Italian, eh? I should have known by your friend’s accent.” He approached them slowly, holding his hands up. “I mean no harm. Saw the two of you here; you seemed to need help, si?” His English was melodious and only slightly accented.


“She is not my friend. I just happened to walk by here while she was getting… mugged.” Kennedy clarified, hoping Sofia wouldn’t correct her. “Scared her assailant off.”


Sofia didn’t even notice the lie. “My Italian is just fine, thank you very much,” she hissed, and the man chuckled deeply.


“I meant no offence, signiorina, I assure you.”


“Could you help me get her home, please?” Kennedy couldn’t see why Sofia was being so bitchy. The man only wanted to help.


“Home? Her knees are bleeding. Perhaps a hospital would be better?”


“I’m fine,” Sofia groused.


“I would not be a gentleman if I did not make sure of that,” he said sombrely. He seemed to think about something then clapped his hands once, obviously pleased with himself. “I know,” he told Sofia. “I can take you to mi casa and have my personal physician look at you. If he says you’re fine, I will have Cesare drive you home.” He tilted his head towards his driver who stood ramrod outside the limousine.


“I don’t know…” Kennedy wasn’t sure she should leave Sofia with the stranger, even though his most dangerous trait seemed to be his charm. When she felt the other woman tighten her grip around her, her voice became firmer. “I don’t think so, Mr…”


“Call me Berto. I perfectly understand your reluctance to leave her to me. I am a stranger, and a man, and after her… traumatic experience… Why don’t you join us and make sure she is safe? I can have both of you driven home as soon as we know she is perfectly all right.” He winked. “I’ll even throw in breakfast.”


He was a charmer all right. Kennedy pondered her options. She’d either join Sofia to Berto’s place and then go home, or go back to the Manor now and face the shambles of her relationship.


She shrugged. “Breakfast better be good.”


The man smiled and led the way to his car. The driver held the door open as his boss and Kennedy helped Sofia inside.


The car door shut with hardly any sound at all.


The way destiny is usually sealed.





Tbc.

He was a charmer all right. Kennedy pondered her options. She’d either join Sofia to Berto’s place and then go home, or go back to the Manor now and face the shambles of her relationship.


She shrugged. “Breakfast better be good.”


The man smiled and led the way to his car. The driver held the door open as his boss and Kennedy helped Sofia inside.


The car door shut with hardly any sound at all.


The way destiny is usually sealed.


~~~~~*~~~~~


She knew it was the dream the moment she felt her hand itch. Even so, she knew she wouldn’t be able to escape the sequence that was to follow, no matter how hard she tried.


The teardrop came next, always the teardrop, and she was shocked to remember, in her sleep, that she’d cried the day before, when Spike was telling her he would leave her. She could cry again. She realized once over the mistake she’d made all that time ago, when she thought loving a monster would make her less than human. The vampire that had once tried to kill her now restored her humanity, and she didn’t even notice at the time. Then she realized something else.


The dream was not the same.


She was not the same.


There wasn’t darkness and the familiar-by-now sense of doom surrounding her. The building she was rounding wasn’t half wrecked. And she was barefoot.


She tightened the sheet around her, wishing she could have at least retained the usual attire the dream came with, to no avail. Her two-handed grip on the fabric made her look down at her fists. No stake there.


The familiar tingles at the back of her neck alerted her to the proximity of Spike or William, and she spun on her heel to face whichever of them it was.


“Hello, cutie.”


It was Spike, yet more than Spike. He seemed taller, somehow. He was glowing, but not with fire, his hair whiter than its usual shade, forming a halo around his head, and he was smiling that smile of his that made her knees week and her stomach fill with a thousand butterflies.


“Spike?” Somehow that felt wrong, so she asked again. “William?”


“Neither. Both. How can you tell?”


“Say a word ending in ‘-ing’ and I’ll know,” she jested.


He smirked and shook his head, and she wanted to say, “Spike” again, but wasn’t sure. “I think—” She worried her lower lip with her teeth, and smiled when she saw his eyes fixed on her mouth. “I think we screwed up a perfectly good Slayer dream,” she said with a giggle.


“Slayer dreams aren’t made to be screwed up, luv.”


“No, they’re not. We are all naught but pawns moved by the hand of destiny.” Andrew appeared out of nowhere and Buffy thought sexy dreams could totally be screwed up by nerds poking their noses where they didn’t belong.


“Spike and I make our own destiny.” She folded her arms over her chest, deciding she didn’t care what name the vampire wore. He would always be her Spike.


Andrew seemed to grow under her scornful gaze. His shoulders widened and he gained a foot, his face becoming a blur before settling into the features of The Immortal. “Do you? Then how come you need me to help you fix your mess, cara?”


Spike growled, suddenly next to her, and she wished she had a sword.


“I think you’ve made your share of wishes,” Adalberto stated, his face somber. “It’s time for mine to come true now.”


Dawn appeared, looking the way she did in Buffy’s memories from when she was four and scraped her knee at kindergarten. “Bad guys don’t win.” The lady holding her by the hand smiled down at her and then at Buffy, and she had a moment to notice how perfect her teeth were and think that kindergarten teachers weren’t supposed to be that hot.


She reached out to take Spike’s hand, but he wasn’t there anymore.


The Immortal whispered, “Divide and conquer,” his eyes glowing a weird neon blue before he too disappeared.


Kindergarten lady walked Dawn to her, placing the girl’s small hand into her sister’s. “This sister you have close, others not so much,” she said before kissing her temple. Buffy looked down at Dawn who repeated herself, “Bad guys don’t win,” then mouthed, “-unless you let them.”


Then she saw Spike from what seemed like miles away, holding her in his arms.


“I won’t lose him again!” she yelled. “Why do I have to?” Tears were pouring down her face, and through their blurry curtain she saw a hand. She knew that hand well, had fought against it. She had been hit by that palm, had been brought to ecstasy over and over again by those fingers, had held it as flames consumed it. She took it in hers, and faintly heard the voice of a woman, one she’d never heard before, say, “By losing him you’ll gain him.”


Buffy sat up suddenly, awake, and pissed as hell. Two hot, groggy vampires turned to look at her, and she briefly wondered which of the two had woken up to shut the drapes during the night, before re-embracing her pissiness.


“Slayer dream again?” Spike tangled his fingers with hers, trying to keep her from biting her nails.


She felt his touch and let out a hysterical giggle. “Yup.”


“The usual?” William wrapped an arm around her waist and nuzzled her stomach.


“Nope.”


“Care to share, pet?” Spike was never known for his patience.


“Sure. Apparently I’ll gain you if I lose you, bad guys don’t win unless you let them, and The Immortal has a wish. Oh, and Dawn had a hot chick bring her home from baby-school.” She sighed dramatically when she saw the matching looks of befuddlement on their faces. “Do I have to break everything down for ya?” She rolled her eyes. “Can’t you read between the lines for once?”


William growled against her belly making her giggle, and the fact that she could giggle made her remember something else. She ran her fingers through Spike’s hair, marvelling at how the curls felt against the inside of her palm. “You know, you made me cry last night.”


His face turned sombre immediately. “I’m sorry, pet. Didn’ mean to—”


“No, no!” she cut him off. “It’s of the good.” She trailed the fingers of her other hand between William’s shoulder blades. “Haven’t cried since… since Sunnydale.”


The vampire pressed an open mouthed kiss on her stomach, while Spike tried to brush the significance of her words off. “I’m glad you are all restored, but le’s not make a habit out of lettin’ the waterworks out, yeah?”


“Ah, shut up.” She slapped him upside the head, but she was laughing.


William knew the time all three of them had left to have fun in bed was running out, and was planning to make the most of it while he still could. “I think we should celebrate that,” he announced.


Spike looked at him under lowered lashes. “I’m a smart bloke, I am.” He leered and sat up, scooching backwards until his back was against the headrest. He stretched, and when he was sure Buffy was riveted by the muscles of his chest and stomach bunching and relaxing, he let one arm drape around her shoulders, the way teenagers go about hugging their date at the movies. She snorted at his move, and he leered again. Suddenly turning to William, he asked, “Now?”


“Now.” Fast as lightening, William rolled over, covering Buffy’s lower body with his and immobilizing her at the same time Spike was tightening his grip around her shoulders. They both started tickling her – Spike with his free hand, the other holding her arms pinned to her body.


She squealed and thrashed, grateful for the moments of glee they were giving her even as she yelled at them to cut it out immediately. Soon she was singing a different tune, as William’s mouth went from blowing raspberries on her lower belly to kissing up the inside of her thighs. Spike nudged her forward a bit and slid one leg behind her, moving so she sat between his legs. He took both of her hands in his to pin them to the mattress and started licking up the column of her neck.


Buffy felt the moment they both morphed into demon face. Their tongues became raspy against her skin, making the friction more intense as they started sucking on her flesh. William took his time dragging his mouth towards her center, always pulling back just as she was about to push down against him. “You tease,” she breathed out when he licked the apex of her thighs once, only to move the other way again. “Come on, William, you’re supposed to be a good guy.” She pouted and struggled to free herself from Spike’s arms, probably meaning to grab hold of William’s hair the moment she managed to, but the vampire behind her wouldn’t budge.


Just when she gave up on being free, William grabbed hold of her thighs, spreading them further, and ran his rough tongue along her slit.


She had never expected it to feel that good. Never expected that, when he pushed his tongue inside her, the tips of his fangs grazing the lips of her sex, danger would be the furthest thing from her mind. His fingers turned into claws, and it would be so easy to hurt her, but the pad of his thumb was as skilled as ever when it found her clit and started rubbing it in circles, applying more pressure every time he withdrew from inside her. She looked down into his amber eyes, and all she could see was love. A demon was looking up at her with more love than anyone who’d ever touched her body. Her Slayer training protested that it was because of the soul, but she knew if she could see Spike’s eyes that very moment she would see the same thing shining through them.


Spike, let go of her with one arm so he could palm a heavy breast, squeeze it until red marks showed on the skin, and then roll the nipple between his index and middle finger. His mouth was still latched onto the spot over her pulse point, suckling and licking in time with William’s thrusts. She could feel him hard behind her, feel the involuntary rocking of his hips as he craved to be inside her, and it turned her on even more that such a powerful creature was moved by her to that point, yet held back for the sake of her pleasure.


Her orgasm kept building as the wicked tongue rolled inside her, finding the bundle of nerves and making all of her body tense in anticipation. Wanting him to go deeper and realizing he was holding back because he was afraid of nicking her with his fangs, she planted her feet on the bed and pushed against his face. “More.” Her voice was hoarse, but she was surprised she could talk at all.


“Oh, he’ll give you more, Slayer,” Spike whispered against her skin. “He’ll give you all you can take.” His claw ran a circle around one nipple and Buffy let her head fall back on his shoulder, catching his earlobe between her teeth.


“How much is that?” she hissed around his flesh as William turned his attentions a bit lower just as she was sure he’d let her come this time. Letting go, she asked pointedly, “And what will you give me?”


William chuckled between her legs, sending what felt like an electric charge straight to her womb and making her back arch. “Oh, he’ll give you something, and so will I. But you have to be a good girl to get it. Will you be good?” He went back to what he was doing without waiting for her answer, pushing the tip of his tongue into her second hole.


“What…” pant “is it…” clench “with guys, and…” deep breath “my ass?” His tongue was working its way into her, harder than normal, though not enough to hurt her.


Spike feathered his hand down the length of her body to caress the folds of her pussy. “Love how you’re always so soft here.” He let a sharp-tipped finger slide between them to fleetingly graze her clitoris. “I love your pussy.” He pinched the tender nubbin. “And I love your ass.” He held her upper body to his and sank lower on the bed, while William lifted her legs. “I only want to be inside you, and if you want us both…” He thrust his hips against her ass once. She wound up lying on top of Spike, who let go of her arms to hold her legs in the air, spreading her for William to feast to his content.


William returned his attention – and his mouth – to her pussy, massaging the ring of muscle around her anus as gently as his rough fingers allowed for, and she felt she was close. “My clit,” she managed between gasps and moans. “Suck on my clit.”


He looked up at her for a second and then shook his vampire face off.


“No. Don’t change.”


“Buffy… I’ll hurt you.”


“Do it, William.” Seeing him hesitate she repeated her words more forcefully. “Bite me, I’m so close.”


He changed back and touched her mound with his lips almost reverently before latching onto her clit and letting his fangs slice through the sensitive skin there.


Spike’s hands on her legs constricted with shock at hearing her whisper, “Yours,” just before her body was overtaken by her release. She was all but convulsing in his arms as his older self pulled in gulp after gulp of her blood, drawing her orgasm out until she went lax.


William looked up, running his tongue first over the puncture marks on her labia and then over his teeth, his eyes obviously glazed even in their demon state. “Did you…” Seeing Buffy was in no condition to answer questions, he turned to Spike. “Did she…?”


Spike nodded mutely.


William propped himself up on an elbow and scratched his chin, a gesture that for some reason hit Buffy as funny. “Should I…?”


Spike just shrugged. Buffy felt that and opened her eyes to try and focus on the man that had just given her the most intense orgasm she’d ever experienced. “Yes you should.” She slurred. “Say mine and complete this.” She turned her head to look at Spike over her shoulder, but did so too fast and got dizzy. “You do it too, but after.” She rubbed against his cock.


The two vampires looked at her, dumbfounded. “Well?” she asked William.


“Are you sure?”


“Duh!”


He climbed over her body like a panther, and looked deep into her eyes. “Mine,” he growled.


Fisting one hand into his hair she pulled him to her for a fierce kiss. She bit his lip until it bled, and sucked on the wound. “Mine,” she said, and didn’t let go of him until he gave her the reply she wanted.


“Yours.”


Spike had been uncharacteristically silent throughout that, until William once again turned questioning eyes his way.


“Jus’ get the bloody lube,” he barked in reply to the silent question. “I’m about to burst here.”


Buffy giggled. “Horndog!”


“Says she, havin’ gotten hers,” he scoffed.


They would both say more, but William’s hand was between their legs, lathering up Spike’s cock with lubricant and positioning it at Buffy’s second entrance. The angle was awkward, so he leaned over and placed her arms around his neck to lift her up then lowered her slowly onto the other vampire’s shaft.


It hurt, but not as much as it had the first few times he’d taken her that way. She felt his girth fill her up, but something was off. “You’re not vampy,” she muttered. “William, Spike’s not vampy.”


“I’d hurt you, luv. It gets… bigger,” came the reply from behind her.


She said nothing until she was fully impaled on him. “Now change.” She licked her lips and spread her legs wider, looking at William under hooded eyelids.


He took the invitation for what it was, and pushed inside her carefully.


None of them moved. Spike was gasping for air he didn’t need and William was trying to keep his weight off them, but his arms were trembling with the effort of holding still. Buffy felt like her insides were burning, but it wasn’t an entirely unpleasant feeling. She squeezed her inner muscles experimentally and grinned at the twin groans it caused. She did it again, and Spike’s hands flew to her hips, raising her slightly. That brought William even deeper inside her pussy, something she hadn’t thought possible, and this time it was her that groaned.


William pushed back, making Spike’s entire length disappear inside her again. They all sucked in a breath, even though two of them didn’t need one. Buffy tried raising her body again, but her legs refused to cooperate, so she settled for digging her nails in Spike’s sides. He got the message, and lifted her hips again, until William took over and lowered her.


Once Buffy’s body adjusted to the double invasion, they settled for a while into a slow rhythm that belied the fact that they were three supernatural beings whose existences were fraught with violence and mayhem. They made love linked as one, blocking out any thoughts of the future. Soon, however, sweet and slow wasn’t enough for them. They wanted more, and they got it. Buffy squeezed them inside her, Spike plunged harder, and William circled his hips on every down stroke. Bodies slammed against one another, hands sought grip and left welts in the heat of the moment, lips and teeth clashed and moans filled the bedroom as the three fucked for all they were worth.


Buffy was already close again by the time she felt Spike’s movements lose their tempo and his grip on her hips become punishing. She knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Throwing her head to the side to present her neck to him, she gasped, “Do it.”


William saw the blond shake his head no, as he came inside his mate.



Tbc.

Chapter 10



She didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t even want to be awake, really, but knew she had to.


There were chores to be done, Slayer dreams to be shared with the gang for analysis, and most of all, groceries and blood to be bought, because two vampires on a Slayer-only diet was not a very good idea in the long run. Especially if said Slayer only had eggs and power drinks in her fridge.


She tried to sneak out of bed – having ended up on the right side at some point during the night – but William’s arm wrapped around her, holding her in place.


“Where are you going, luv?” he mumbled against the pillow, turning to face her. Her heart constricted at how beautiful and innocent he looked, still half asleep. How had she not noticed that in the past? Or, rather, how had she resisted?


“I have some stuff to do. Feel free to wait for me in bed,” she replied, sounding more cheerful than she felt.


“You sure?” Spike’s voice came from the other side of the bed. “We can be up and runnin’ in-”


“In about six hours, minimum.” She got up. “It’s still high noon, guys, and you need your beauty sleep.”


William reached for her again, but found only thin air when she side-stepped. “I will be back. Sheesh. Sleep!”


They didn’t protest more, both grudgingly realizing she needed some time to herself.


She grabbed her clothes and left the room, knowing they would hear her getting dressed anyway, but wanting to make at least the token effort not to disturb what was left of their rest.


Her sobs a few minutes later had them foregoing their sleep and rushing to her anyway.



The previous night ~~~~~


William saw the blond shake his head no, as he came inside his mate. Buffy must have felt that, or maybe it was the lack of teeth sinking into the side of her neck that made her eyes widen in a silent disappointed question as her body betrayed her, writhing in orgasm.


William withdrew from inside her and rolled to the right, giving her room to climb off Spike, knowing the younger vampire’s release wouldn’t be on the top of her priority list just then.


She tried to sit up, pull away, but Spike’s arms closed around her. “Don’t.”


“Don’t what?”She unwrapped his arms from around her waist and let his cock slip out of her as she stood and stalked away from the bed, resisting the need to groan as her sore muscles demanded.


William was behind her in an instant, preventing her from making the dramatic exit she was planning on. He turned her to face the peroxide blond who still lay in bed, face buried in his palms.


“Don’t feel betrayed?” she spat out. “Don’t feel like my heart is breaking because the man I love doesn’t want to be with me?” She stomped her foot, which made the ache between her legs worse, but she didn’t care.


William rested his chin on her shoulder and whispered, “Don’t take it that way, luv.”


She took a deep breath, getting ready to yell at both of them about how there was only one way to take it, really, Spike didn’t want her, but William’s arms tightened around her imperceptibly, and his voice sounded in her head. *Let him tell you why.*


Her head snapped to the side, and then back towards Spike, when the voice in her head went on, *Telepathy. Brilliant bonus on the mating. Wasn’t sure it’d work.* He kissed the top of her head. *Don’t let on yet, it’ll be like we’re rubbing it in.*


She tried to send her thoughts to him. *Rubbing it in? He didn’t want this.*


*He can’t have it. Ask him why.* He insisted when she stubbornly refused at first.


“Spike?”


He shook his head, the heels of his hands furiously rubbing tears away from his eyes.


“Spike, why?”


She didn’t expect the outrage and despair in her lover’s voice, when he bellowed, “Because I have to leave you. For once in my life I have everythin’ I want, only it’s not mine. It’s his.” He pointed at William, jabbing his index finger at him repeatedly. “I can’t soddin’ claim you, and then go to another universe where I’ll be nothin’ to you, and add the hurt of a claim on top of the pain of not bein’ with you.” His voice was roaring, but Buffy’s heart was breaking for the pain in his eyes.


“Hurt of the claim? Won’t you feel complete if we-”


“You feel complete when you’re with your mate,” William cut in. “Or you die trying to get to them.”


“I didn’t think…”


Spike glanced at her. “No. You didn’t.” He rolled over, burying his face in the pillow, and both his lovers joined him in bed to offer as much comfort as they could.


Before she fell asleep, Buffy heard William in her head, promising they’d find out more about the claim when things were more settled. When she demanded he explain what he meant by find out, he just sent her a mental image of Garfield shrugging, with a caption that said “Never done this `til now, luv.”



~~~~~*~~~~~



Buffy had managed not to cry when Spike explained why he couldn’t claim her; it was he who was hurt the most, and his turn to let it all out while being held and loved.


She didn’t shed a single tear when some of William’s dreams seeped into her subconscious once sleep finally claimed them all, and she saw herself treating him like garbage again and again. She just held him closer.


Reading Giles’ letter, however, she couldn’t hold back. It was so unfair that she couldn’t hate him. She resented how his words touched her heart, and how even now, after everything, she longed for him to approve of her life. Every I am sorry he’d written brought a sob up her throat, a sob that she tried silencing, but to no avail.


She was reading the letter for the second time, sniffling and muttering about stupid Brits, when two naked vampires ran to her side, staying away from stray rays of sun as best they could.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Having to use every last vestige of strength, Kennedy managed to open her eyes, only to let her heavy lids drift shut again when the room seemed too mobile for her taste.


“What the fuck…?”


She half-rolled to her side and lowered her feet to the floor, fully meaning to jump out of bed – the strange bed she was in, which she didn’t remember getting into – and failing miserably to even lift a finger.


“Oh God, the champagne.”


Of course it was the champagne.


Having champagne in a car with a stranger – two strangers, even; she didn’t know Sofia either – while driving to his extravagant castle was a bit off, even in the weird world of Slayers. It hadn’t felt that way when he’d said a little alcohol might sooth her and Sofia’s nerves, and apologized for only having champagne in the car. Sofia had had some too, she remembered her holding her glass to be filled. Did she see her drink it? No. Maybe she had drunk it and now lay drugged somewhere else in the huge castle. She felt so stupid and would gladly smack her forehead, if it weren’t for the sense that there was a heavy metal concert behind her eyelids. Or if she could move her arm.


Refusing to succumb to panic, she took a deep breath and recalled a breathing exercise she’d been taught by Giles. It was simple, really, just timed breathing that helped her mind relax and her heart stop trying to burst out of her chest. She focused on her breathing while assessing the situation. She wasn’t dead, for one. That meant that whatever Berto had in mind for her, it didn’t demand her death. She didn’t feel hurt or violated, so he hadn’t tortured or raped her. Still, why had she been drugged? There was no doubt in her mind that she had been; she could always hold her alcohol, and she hadn’t even had that much. A suspicion reared its ugly head out of the blue. Whatever it was that the Italian charmer wanted of her, it would be much worse if he knew who she was. What she was. Did he know?


Frantically, she began recounting what she remembered since saving Sofia from the vampire, what she assumed was that morning. If she hadn’t been passed out for days, that is.


They hadn’t talked much during the drive; just the usual small talk among strangers, during which Kennedy had tried and failed, to find out more about Berto than his name and the fact he was a businessman. “It is all so boring, cara. Tell me about you. How come you were out in the early hours?” She’d told him she’d been up studying all night and had needed to go out for some fresh air. He hadn’t asked what she was studying, or how come she didn’t offer to take Sofia home with her if she lived within walking distance from where he’d found them. Kennedy had been grateful for that.


By the time they arrived at the castle, she was feeling wiped out and couldn’t stop yawning. Berto had offered to prepare a room for her, and she’d initially refused. When her body betrayed her and she had trouble holding her head up while sitting in his living room, waiting for his butler to bring them something to eat, she told him she had to call someone to come pick her up. He smiled, nodded, and asked for that someone’s name and number, so he could call them for her.


She was too stubborn to call Willow after the way they’d left things, and wouldn’t give anyone else from the mansion the pleasure of seeing her so weak. She could call one of the younger Slayers, but that would probably lead to a lot of gossip, and she wouldn’t have that. She was thinking of how there was really nobody she could ask for help, when she realized her eyes had been shut for some time.


The last thing she remembered was a voice saying, “Her room is ready, sir.”


It was Sofia.


“That bitch! After I saved her!” Saying the words out loud, she realized how silly she was being. Sofia hadn’t needed her. “She was in on it!” It all made sense suddenly; it was all a trap. Sofia knew about vampires because Berto did. And they knew about her. This time she managed to slap her forehead and was extremely relieved by it. She managed to raise her upper body using her elbows to hold her weight, and for the first time saw the room she was in.


She had it really well for a captive.


She was lying on top of the covers of a four poster bed. The canopy was tied to the poles, allowing her see the beautiful tapestries on the walls, the heavy ceiling-to-floor drapes that covered the windows, and the breakfast cart that stood by the foot of the bed. The delicacies on the latter made her stomach protest, but she didn’t even consider tasting them, fearing they would be drugged, like the champagne.


She tried sitting up, and when her head didn’t swim, got out of bed and wobbled to the door. Taking slow breaths until she felt confident her legs would hold her, she tried the knob. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t turn either way. She grimaced, took a step back, and kicked the door with all her strength.


She only noticed the needle prick in the bend of her elbow when she fell flat on her ass, the heavy door mocking her as it stood locked and unyielding.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Giles ran his fingers through hair that had never before been so messy. Miss Harkness had been right, not that the woman had ever been wrong, as far as he could remember. Finding the exact universe and point in time Spike had come from, would take decades in the most optimistic scenario.


Dawn and Willow had spent hours trying to locate the alternate universe he’d come from, but with no luck. They’d only managed to open two doors, each time channeling Dawn’s powers as the Key through Willow. Other than time consuming, that process was vague. It didn’t take all the mumbo-jumbo, as Xander had called it, of chants, incantations and spells. Dawn would use a razor on her inner arm to let out some of her blood for Willow to dip her fingers in and cover her eyelids with. Then the wicca would choose a portal and spread her senses through it as far as they would go, zeroing in on Buffy.


Once a Buffy was spotted, the redhead would let her essence flow into that universe, seeking Spike. If there was no Spike there, and the time was before the fight with The First, they would warn AU-Buffy about things to come and all would be well.


Thing was, there was an infinite number of Buffys out there, and both Witch and Key were exhausted after only two failed tries. If they kept at it, they ran the risk of either Dawn collapsing and the door between their universe and the one they were visiting growing uncontrollable, or Willow’s soul separating from her body and becoming lost forever in the great beyond. Neither was a risk Giles was about to take, despite the girls’ protests that they could at least try once more before resting.


“But we have to do it, Giles. We have to,” Willow insisted. “I know we can.”


“No, Willow. It’s futile. Even if we do find the right universe, which I highly doubt, our meddling could prove disastrous. I don’t know why I even let you try; I should have known better.”


Dawn closed her eyes, fighting the shooting pain bursting at the back of her head. “And what’s the alternative, Giles? Tell Spike to pack and go?” She opened her eyes again, pinning him with her fiery gaze. “I don’t see that going down so well, and I’ll be on Buffy’s side on this.”


“There is no side but Buffy’s on this, Dawn,” he replied haughtily, while thinking what a waste it was that Dawn wasn’t a Slayer. Her crossed arms stance and her glare were as fierce as her sister’s; all she needed was to pack a matching punch. “Your sister and Spike will decide what they want to do and we’ll all support them.” He swept his gaze around the room. “Are we clear on that?”


The girls nodded, as did Xander, while Andrew held his right hand over his heart and said, “I solemnly swear.”


“Right. Now, whatever they decide upon, we need to know where Spike came from, but this is not the way to go.”


“Oh, I see the G-man has a plan.” Xander wrapped an arm around Dawn’s waist, seeing her shoulders sag with defeat.


Giles shot him a warning look that he knew would have no greater effect than it had for years now, and nodded. Shooting blind wasn’t the way to go; he would have to go to the source of their problems.







Tbc.

Chapter 11




William was beside himself the moment he felt Buffy’s anguish reverberate in his head. What upset him the most was that he couldn’t figure out what it was that was hurting her so much, no matter how hard he tried to reach out to her through their bond. He was about to jab his elbow into Spike’s ribs to alert him that something was wrong before rushing to her side, when the other vampire jumped out of bed saying, “I heard it, too.”


They ran to the living room and found their Slayer sitting on the floor, rubbing furiously at what seemed to be a never-ending stream of tears running down her cheeks.


Spike was at her side first, and he crouched next to her, holding her tight against his chest. “What is it, luv? What’s wrong?” She muttered something about stupid Brits, and he started raking his mind trying to figure what he or William could possibly have done to her. Seeing the letter in her hand, he reached for it but her fingers flexed around it and she bunched the paper up to prevent him from taking it.


William knelt in front of her and placed his palms on her knees tentatively. *Buffy,* he tried to get through to her, getting jumbled thoughts in return. Tightening his grasp on her legs, he tried again, *Buffy, what happened?* Giles’ face floated on top of her thoughts, then Wood’s. The First showed up, too, followed by a myriad of scenes from her life – some he’d been a witness to, others he hadn’t – that were too convoluted for him to attempt to make any sense of. *Kitten, help me out here. I’m getting vertigo.*


She wiped her nose on Spike’s shoulder, then cleared her throat. “I’m ok. It’s just this stupid letter.” Managing a better grip on her thoughts, she sent to William, *He’s sorry, about everything. Really sorry. I don’t want to forgive him. And apparently, I’m a sap.*


William let out a sigh of relief and cupped her face with both hands. *Who?*


Buffy didn’t realize she was talking out loud when she said Giles, until Spike erupted in a roar.


“I’ll kill him,” he said, straightening up.


“No, Spike. You don’t get it, Giles didn’t do anything wrong. Not now.”


Maybe it was the fact that her eyes were red, and tears were still pouring down her face, but he wasn’t listening to her. Instead, he was pacing up and down, ignoring the danger the rays of sunlight posed to him, and making Buffy cringe at the fizzing sound when one caught a lock of hair. “I’ll kill the sod. Violently.” He bounced on the balls of his feet, turning to face them fully vamped out. “I’ll rip him apart, limb from limb.”


William grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him back into the shade, but Spike was on full ranting mode by that time.


“He just won’t let go of who. I. Was.” His arms flew in the air in exasperation. “And no matter how many times Buffy saves the world, he’ll always make her feel bad for her choices. He should be one to talk. Pffft.” He held out his right hand, closed in a fist. “Among other things,” he stuck out his thumb, “he’s taken her girl-power away,” index finger, “he’s banged her mother—” Buffy’s eyes immediately widened in shock, and he mumbled apologetically, “Joyce told me when I told her about Dru.” Unfolding his middle finger next, he went on. “He wanted to off her sister,” ring finger, “turned people against her,” pinkie, “and tried to kill one of her allies.” He paused, holding his now open palm up, then added, “let alone the best shag of her life,” before spreading the fingers of his other hand too.


William chuckled when Buffy thought, *True. Cocky, but true*, and she frowned when she realized he’d heard her.


Blocking him out turned to be as easy as sending him an image of her closing her bedroom drapes. Satisfied he couldn’t know how bad she felt for only half listening to what Spike was saying, since she was too distracted by the vampires’ nudity, she turned to the bleached vampire, interrupting his tirade. “He apologized, Spike.” At the questioning look he threw her, she explained, “He took the blame for everything he’s done wrong where it comes to me and mine.”


Seeing Spike’s jaw clench at the last word, the reality of the previous night hit her again full force. Spike couldn’t stay. Spike wasn’t - couldn’t be - hers. Spike couldn’t be happy. A fresh bout of tears moistened her eyes, and her defensive mind-drapes were torn, flooding William with her grief.


Spike looked from one to the other, and he knew. Wagging his finger at William, he warned, “If you start cryin’ too, I’m walkin’ into the sunlight. I mean it.” Sitting down next to Buffy, he gathered her into his arms and started rocking her, all the time whispering soothing words. He didn’t realize that the more he tried to comfort her, the worse she felt for having to lose him all over again.


Brow creased in pain and deep thought, William left the room to make some hot chocolate.


And get the cordless phone.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Faith, of all people, was the one who finally made Buffy stop crying.


William had brought the Slayer the cordless to call Giles. Much as he resented how Rupert had treated Buffy and him in the past, he knew the man thought he was doing what was best at the time of making each and every one of his stupid decisions. He was sure the apology was sincere; it took guts and true remorse to put such admittance of wrongdoing in paper. He was also certain Giles loved Buffy as a daughter, and he’d hate for her to miss out on the opportunity to make her peace with her father-figure; he knew how it still pained him to have lost his mother the way he did, and Buffy had already lost so much.


The Slayer refused to make the call, despite the insistence of her lovers. She said things didn’t work that way between her and Giles; they were people of actions, not words. It’d take time to learn to trust him again, and right now it’d be a lie if she said she could forgive him just because he’d asked her to.


She was still sniffling and teary-eyed when the phone rang. William held the receiver out for her, and she took it reluctantly.


Her hello was too timid for Spike’s liking, but he perked up when her heartbeat became faster and her body went from limp to tense at the first words from the other end of the line.


“Hey B. Heard you got one hottie too many. Mind if I borrow the spare?”


The blonde’s nostrils flared and she pulled out of Spike’s arms, taking William’s hand to stand up. “Neither of them does easy, Faith,” she said in a bored tone of voice. “And neither is to spare. I need the two of them to keep me satisfied.”


Spike nuzzled her thigh, and William wrapped an arm around her waist, as if the other Slayer could see them and they wanted to support what Buffy had said.


“Does either do pregnant?”


“Oh my God, you aren’t!” Buffy squealed in delight, all bad things in life momentarily forgotten.



~~~~~*~~~~~


Faith and Buffy had managed to work a lot of things out after everything that had happened in Sunnydale. Maybe it was that Faith finally believed in herself enough to want to do the right thing instead of trying to get attention. Maybe she’d grown up, or maybe there were so many Slayers she finally realized the futility of competing for the first place. Whatever the reason, she’d been there for Buffy more than either had considered possible in the past.


She was now stationed in Cleveland, with a small troop of slayers under her care. And with Wood.


Watching the brunette’s relationship with him blossom had been hard for Buffy. She knew she wasn’t being fair, that she should be happy for her friend, but seeing the man who had tried to kill her lover be alive and in love, while Spike was dust at the bottom of a crater was too much to handle at times. Still, he made Faith happy, and Faith and happiness hadn’t been very mixy in the past, so Buffy put up with him, and in time started to even respect him. Before the two left for Cleveland, Wood had told her he could never like Spike, but he wished she hadn’t had to lose him. It was as close to an apology as she could ever have hoped for.


And now Faith would be a mom, God help her unborn baby.


By the time she hung up the phone, Buffy was ready to face not only Giles, but another apocalypse. Faith had just reminded her that while normal was out of reach for their kind, happy wasn’t. And there was no reason Spike couldn’t be happy, even if he had to go. It would take longer, and she’d miss him, but things would work out. They just had to.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Buffy, Spike and William had all left for the manor the minute it was dark enough for the vampires to be outside without danger of combusting. They’d decided they needed to share the latest Slayer dream with the gang and go through possible ways of returning Spike to where he came from.


Now they’d all been sitting in the living room, chatting idly and avoiding the subject of the alternate universe in need of a saviour, for more than half an hour before Willow realized Kennedy hadn’t returned from patrol. Usually, she’d be worried sick, but knowing the brunette and her sulking, she was just somewhere licking the wounds on her ego and expecting Willow to go look for her. Willow would have none of that this time. Nope, this was the new and improved Willow. She was strong and self-assured, and didn’t need to put up with childish behaviours.


She must have been pouting because Buffy asked if she was alright, and this so wasn’t the time for people to be worrying over her instead of over the mess with Spike. “I’m fine. Just worried about Spike. We—we should be talking about what to do with him.”


Buffy’s face fell. She knew it was stupid to hope that not mentioning anything would make the matter go away, but stranger things had been known to happen. “Yeah… I know. Had a Slayer dream.”


Giles chose wisely not to inquire why she hadn’t shared this sooner. She hadn’t mentioned the letter, but she’d given him a tentative smile when he opened the door, and he would do nothing to risk the possibility of her ever forgiving him. He nodded, and asked, “Was it helpful?”


“I don’t know…” Buffy described as much of her dream as she could remember, hoping the group would make more sense of it than she and Spike had.


All their faces were perplexed by the time she finished. All but Dawn’s, that is.


“Maybe the you who’ll gain him isn’t you-you. Maybe it’s the other Buffy from his universe.” She shrugged. “Maybe it means he’ll be with her like you are with William.” She smiled at Spike, praying the hope she was giving him wouldn’t be proven false.


“But what about your sisters? The other ones?” Willow chipped in. “Do you think it meant Faith?”


Buffy refused to even entertain the thought. She wouldn’t bring Faith into it, not now that she was pregnant. She shook her head. “No, it must be someone else. It must have something to do with the Immortal saying something about dividing and conquering. Are all the girls accounted for?”


Giles assured her they were.


Willow scrunched up her face and changed the subject. “Ummm, so, the dream means we’re right, right? Spike has to go back.” Not waiting for anyone to reply, she went on. “But—but we can’t send him back. I mean, it’s not possible. Not without knowing where he came from.”


Buffy’s face lit up, but her glee only lasted for as long as it took to take a look at Spike. He seemed ready to vamp out.


Making a visible effort to keep his calm, the latter said, “I am goin’ back, whatever it may take, Red.”


Giles cleared his throat and they all turned to look at him. “I am going to talk to the Immortal,” he stated. “I can go there tomorrow morning and try-”


“Try what, Giles?” Buffy’s voice sounded hysterical to her own ears. “Try to force him to help? You’ll just get yourself killed.”


“He won’t kill me. Not when he could gain something by having you owe him.”


Ignoring the preposterous thought of owing the Immortal anything, Buffy tried for another angle. “We don’t know if he still lives where he used to. After I tried to slay him he may have moved.” She was clutching at straws and hoped nobody would call her on it.


Giles shook his head. “He will still be there. He’s too cocky to believe he’s really in danger.”


William and Spike agreed with him. Still, Buffy wasn’t sure whatever Giles had in mind would work and said so, only to be brushed off by the men in her life. Even Xander insisted Giles knew what he was doing, which Buffy took as an implication that she didn’t. She finally gave up arguing when her ex-watcher gave her a pleading look and said, “Please let me try it, Buffy.” His choice of phrasing indicated he wouldn’t go through with it without her approval.


She sighed and nodded. “Okay. But be careful. I know Adalberto isn’t known for getting his hands dirty, but I sincerely doubt there won’t be others around ready to do so for him.”


“I promise.” He took off his glasses. “Now, assuming we somehow find a way to return Spike to his universe, there is another issue, if he’s to thwart the apocalypse.”


“The soul,” Spike said grimly.


“The soul,” Giles agreed.


“Spike has to go to Africa.” Xander wasn’t asking, he knew the answer. “I can take a team of Slayers and come with you, man.” He was shocked by how much he really meant the offer.


Spike was equally shocked and couldn’t help but reach out and pat the other man on the shoulder. “You’ve grown up, Wh—Xander.” He was sure he wasn’t the only one amazed at the changes the one-eyed wonder had undergone. If he wasn’t mistaken, which he rarely was, his Nibblet had a crush on the carpenter-turned-hero. “But it doesn’t count if I don’t do it alone.”


Buffy’s mind was reeling. Spike was about to go through everything, again. For her. Well, another her, but still her. “Can I help?” she asked.


“You can’t,” William answered for Spike, giving her a sad smile. “Nobody can.”


“Well, someone might.” Spike looked at Willow who seemed too preoccupied to notice what they were talking about. “But not now,” he continued.


The rest of the evening went by with the group making plans they knew wouldn’t hold any water if the Immortal refused to assist them; how they’d made the other Buffy believe Spike was there to help, how maybe William and Buffy should go with him and then come back.


It was well after midnight when William suggested that he, Buffy, and Spike went home. They said their goodnights, and Willow stood to walk them to the door.


As Spike was crossing the threshold he whispered to her, “Front gate. One hour.”





Tbc.

It was well after midnight when William suggested he, Buffy, and Spike went home. They said their goodnights, and Willow stood to walk them to the door.


As Spike was crossing the threshold he whispered to her, “Front gate. One hour.”




Chapter 12


Willow nodded, secretly hoping an hour was enough to locate Kennedy.


Telling her housemates she needed to meditate, she retreated to her room. She hadn’t found it odd that nobody had asked where her girlfriend was; Kennedy rarely shared her evenings with the rest of the house. She instead preferred to be on her own, or alone with Willow. On days she didn’t have to practice with Giles, like today for instance, she would often visit the younger Slayers and offer her sparring skills. The girls generally avoided her, but there was always someone cocky enough—perhaps harbouring a grudge from a previous defeat—to take her on. Willow doubted that was the case tonight, but calling the Mansion to confirm might give rise to rumours.


She hated herself for not having worried over her girlfriend’s disappearance sooner; that was what she found odd, that she hadn’t even noticed she hadn’t seen her in more than seventeen hours. Seventeen hours. How long had she stopped caring? How long had she been out of love? How long had she been pretending to be part of a relationship that offered her nothing more than a bed partner?


The room itself laid testament that it had been too long. It didn’t feel empty without the brunette, didn’t feel cold. She could still remember how it had felt when she’d lost Tara, or Oz, and it had felt like a punch to the gut. A punch with something sharp wrapped around the knuckles that took her breath away and left her bleeding. She felt like a horrible, horrible person for not feeling like that after the fight with Kennedy. Her shame deepened at the fleeting thought that, if something had happened to the young Slayer, Willow wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath of their relationship. She shouldn’t be able to feel that way.


Praying to the Goddess that nothing had happened to her—ex, she decided—girlfriend, Willow brought out a map of the city and a crystal and began scrying. She’d find Kennedy; it wasn’t like she could have gone very far. The problem was that she had a nagging feeling that she would be too late. She just couldn’t say what she would be too late for.



Twelve hours earlier~~~~~~~~~



The mark from the needle worried her the most.


Kennedy had heard the stories about the toy soldiers experimenting on demons and the Initiative was the first thing that popped to her mind when she noticed the little red dot on her skin. She was there as a guinea pig.


No, she reasoned with herself, that couldn’t be it. In the stories, prisoners to be dissected and analyzed were kept in sanitized box-like glass cells, not ultra-luxurious bedrooms. Rising to her feet, she scanned the room once more, then did the only thing she could think of. She yelled for help.


She didn’t really expect anyone to respond, but she soon heard the sound of heels clicking ever closer to her door. She moved stealthily so that her back was against the wall where the door opening would hide her from her captors. She would slam the door into whoever was coming—she guessed it would be Sofia—and run.


Sofia’s voice drifted to her from behind the closed door. “I know you’re scared and confused, but attacking me the moment I come in is not a good idea.”


Kennedy made no sound, she didn’t even breathe, waiting until the door opened.


“I mean it. We do not wish to harm you, and if you let me come in I will explain everything,” the melodious voice went on. “If you attack me, even if you manage to incapacitate me, security won’t let you go far. If you are civil and hear me out you will be free in twenty-four hours.”


Kennedy considered her options. There really weren’t all that many in her current state.


“Come in,” she said. “I’ll play nice.”


The door opened carefully, and Kennedy moved to face the other woman. “You better make some sense,” she warned, knowing her implied threat was idle while she didn’t have her strength.


“Oh, I will. Sit down? This will take a while.”


By the time the woman was done with her story, Kennedy’s head was swimming. She wasn’t a prisoner of the Initiative, she was a guest… of the Immortal.


If Sofia was telling the truth, and the Slayer had no reason to believe she wasn’t on that matter, the champagne had been spiked with a sedative so that Adalberto could inject her with the same drug used for the Cruciamentum; a little cocktail that only sapped her strength for about thirty-something hours if not taken regularly. Apparently the Immortal wanted to have a chat with her and was afraid she wouldn’t listen—would maybe kill him—unless she was stripped of her Slayer powers.


“He wants to chat?” She was incredulous. The entire talk, hell, the entire situation was surreal. “He’s a demon. I kill demons. What do we have to—”


Sofia looked fleetingly somewhere behind Kennedy, before cutting her off. “He’s not a demon. Not exactly. But you should be very careful not to displease him.”


Kennedy crossed her arms defiantly.


“Please, hear him out,” the other woman insisted. “I can take you to him now, if you are willing to just listen.”


They should know better. Since they knew all about her, they should know that she never just listened. “Take me to him,” she said, standing up as regally as she could.


Sofia led her to the door. The moment they were crossing the threshold, she whispered, “Be very careful what you agree to, as well.”


She was then led through heavily decorated corridors to the living room where she’d last seen Berto, or Adalberto, as Sofia had said his full name was.


The man was lounging on a couch, his posture relaxed with both his arms draped over the couch’s back. He was wearing a royal blue robe over silk, navy blue, pajama bottoms. No pajama top, as she could see his naked sternum through the open V of the robe.


The moment they entered the room, Sofia took a step to the side, allowing her to near the man who was giving her a friendly smile.


“Please, sit, cara.” He indicated an armchair.


The Slayer hesitated for only a moment before doing as he asked. She couldn’t fight him and hope to survive, so her only option was to play along until she could. She sat on the edge of the chair, holding his gaze. “You wanted to talk. Talk.”


“I admire your spirit, cara.”


The way he called her cara grated on her nerves, but other than that there was nothing threatening about him. Maybe that was his most dangerous quality. She clenched her jaw and remained silent.


“I want to do you a favor, cara.” This time he said the word slowly, deliberately, as if challenging her to react. She didn’t take the bait.


“I’m listening.”


“I’ll try and not bore you with idle chit chat.” He smiled then turned serious so suddenly it was hard to believe the smile had ever been there. “The Slayer ideal, what the Chosen Ones have always stood for, has been compromised by your current leader, and I’m here to help you correct that.”


She tried to hide her surprise. She had tried to guess what he could possibly want of her, but this certainly caught her unawares. “Why would you do that? Isn’t it to your benefit if the killers of your kind lose power?”


His eyes went yellow, the iris widening until it covered the white. It wasn’t the color vampire-eyes had, no golden tinge. This was pure yellow, and it somehow seemed natural on his face. “You have never met my kind before, bambina, and you should feel fortunate for that. Not all are as… civil as me,” he said in a booming voice that somehow came from all around her.


Refusing to give him the satisfaction of even flinching, Kennedy asked, “What are you, then, and why would you want to help us?”


He blinked and his eyes were their normal color again. “What you need to know is that I’m not a demon. Nor am I a killer.”


She scoffed and he repeated flatly. “I am not a killer. Unlike those creatures your leader beds.”


She’d let the leader thing slide the first time, but wouldn’t again. “I don’t have a leader.”


He nodded knowingly. “You don’t, but there are those who need a leading figure, and the current one has lost sight of what you all stand for. She sleeps with two vampires. How long do you think it’ll take before that starts affecting her decisions? Putting lives at risk?”


“Not saying I believe your altruistic routine, especially since you still haven’t told me why you want to help, but what exactly are you suggesting as a solution?”


“You.”


Her fingers tightened on the arms of the chair. “I’m listening.”



~~~~~*~~~~~



Buffy didn’t know whether to feel happy or worried. Spike couldn’t leave yet, and her friends had been more than willing to help—which definitely boosted the happy part—but none of them had noticed the claim, and she worried about what would happen when they found out.


She supposed they hadn’t noticed because she’d ended up wearing a turtle neck to the meeting.

She felt like she should have told them, but this was the first time in her life she felt like her choices were respected, and she was afraid telling them she’d been bonded to a vampire for the rest of her life would destroy that. William hadn’t pressured her to say a thing, but she could sense an abstract feeling of disappointment emanating from his side of the claim.


And then there was Spike.


In his place, she’d be relieved to know that the choice was out of their hands, but he seemed determined to find a way to leave. And he was being all mysterious. Just when they’d reached her apartment door, he’d kissed William and her passionately on the lips, asked her if she loved him, and when she’d replied of course I do, had said he needed some time to himself and that they shouldn’t worry, before turning on his heel and disappearing down the stairs. She’d made to run after him, but William had held her back.


“Let him,” he’d said, and she had.


Now Spike had been gone for two hours, and Buffy itched to go out and find him. She wouldn’t, though, she needed to understand more about the claim with William—there was no way she was asking Giles about it just yet—and spend some time with him. Because of the whole thing with Spike she had neglected her mate, and wanted to make up for it, even though he hadn’t complained.


“You know, kitten, thinking about everything at once doesn’t really help the test.” William nibbled on her earlobe.


“Well, maybe we should do something that would keep my mind focused.” She thought the test was silly anyway. When she’d come out of the shower earlier, William had suggested they tried reading each other’s thoughts without either consciously sending something out. They both knew that they could sense strong feelings, but he wanted to see how far their telepathy went. She’d agreed mostly to humor him, failing to see the point, really; when she needed to think something at him, she could. The rest of the time she liked her thoughts being hers and hers alone. Now she sent him a very vivid picture of her naked and beckoning.


“I think I could do something about that.” He smirked and climbed over her legs to the foot of the bed. Grabbing both her ankles, he pulled her until she lay flat on her back, spread her legs and smacked his lips.



~~~~~*~~~~~



True to character, Willow was so jittery about Spike wanting to meet her that she was at the front gate a few minutes early.


She hadn’t been able to locate Kennedy and it was driving her crazy. The crystal kept twirling over the map, covering the entire city, but wouldn’t stop at one specific place. It was like Kennedy was moving around with the speed of light, which simply wasn’t possible. The good thing was that she wasn’t dead, and from the color of the aura around the crystal she wasn’t even in distress. The bad thing was that there had to be some concealment spell at work.


She startled and squeaked when a heavy hand dropped on her shoulder.


Spike chuckled. “I’ll never tire of that.”


“Spike,” the redhead gasped, “it’s you.”


“No, it’s the Easter bunny. Want to see my ears?” He waggled his eyebrows and chuckled again at the blush he saw creeping up Willow’s face. Being a vampire certainly had its benefits.


“No, I—I don’t. Why would–” The Wicca was flustered. “I’ll tell Buffy,” she huffed finally.


He turned serious. “You can tell her that, but I need a favor that you can tell no one about.”


Willow tilted her head questioningly. “What—what do you need?” She was determined to do anything to help him.


“Have you been practicing your teleportin’ lately?”








Tbc.

Chapter 13




Buffy couldn’t believe her ears. Spike had decided he needed a couple of weeks to himself, and he hadn’t even bothered telling her or William? What could he possibly do with that time?


“Where did he go, Wills?” She went for the puppy-eyed look, sure that no threat could make the Wicca give her information she didn’t want to. “Please, I need to know. Maybe he’s in trouble.”


“I—I can’t tell you. He made me promise not to. He—we were afraid it might be jinxed.” Willow felt nothing like the powerful witch she was, as she looked down at her shoes, wondering for the thousandth time what had possessed her to go along with Spike’s plan, and—even worse—to let the Slayer know about it in the middle of night.


Buffy could only hold back her anger for so long. “If you’re lying, if you or Giles have done anything to him, so help me God—”


This wasn’t the best time to admit to having done something to him, even something he’d asked for, so the redhead just settled for saying, “He’s fine. He’ll be fine. And Giles had nothing to do with it.”


William, who had been pacing behind the Slayer trying to send her soothing thoughts while concealing his own concern, stepped up and wrapped his arms around her. “We have to trust him, Buffy. He’ll come back, you know he always does.”


She turned to him and buried her face in the crook of his neck, feeling safe and loved, yet somehow… un-whole.


The vampire tightened his embrace then tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at Willow.


She mouthed, “Trust us,” before sliding out the door. She had someone else to find now.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Kennedy had gone back to bed, hoping to sleep off the rest of the drug’s effects. She was now awakened by the sound of a very familiar British voice used in a very unfamiliar way. It was Giles and he was yelling.


“Don’t you realize that an entire universe is at risk, just because of your pettiness?”


Adalberto’s voice, calm as ever, floated to her ears. “It was not my pettiness, dear boy, but your Slayer’s sexual appetites that have brought us into this bind.”


Kennedy chuckled at anyone calling the new head of the Council of Watchers boy. Carefully, she got out of bed and tiptoed to the door. She didn’t really need to—the conversation carried perfectly to her—she just wanted to check whether she was locked inside again.


The doorknob turned easily and she sighed, not opening the door. Giles—at least—couldn’t possibly know she was listening, and she really wanted to hear how he’d choose to defend his beloved Slayer’s honour.


Not even once did the thought cross her mind that Giles could get her home, to safety, if she left that room.


“Buffy’s sexual appetites? Right,” the Brit snorted. “It wasn’t Buffy who brought Spike here from another dimension, was it now? If anything, she and all of us have been trying to get him back there.”


“She made the wish that brought him here, it wasn’t my own doing.” After a brief pause, the Immortal continued. “I was just bargaining for my life.” He raised his voice for the first time to add, “Which she threatened for no reason.”


“No reason? You’re a demon!”


“Her lovers are demons, Watcher. I’m not, and accusations such as this will get you no closer to your goal. If you require my assistance, I suggest you be civil.”


Kennedy could hear the indignation in Giles’ voice when he replied, “You are evil. You’re a bloody murderer!”


“I—” Adalberto’s voice was booming now, “-have never taken a human life. Can you say the same thing, little man?”


The brunette was sure Giles would just laugh the absurd question off, but the silence that followed was too long for comfort.


“I did what I had to do,” he finally said. “I always have.”


Kennedy backtracked to the bed, got under the covers and put the pillow over her head. She’d heard enough.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Sofia tried her best not to guffaw at her master’s declaration. It was true he’d never taken a human life. Not with his own hands. She guessed the phrasing he chose didn’t include all the death and mayhem he’d caused.


She was in the corridor outside Kennedy’s room—for it was Kennedy’s room now, the master would do anything to keep the Slayer, or at least make her return to him—listening to the argument that was unfolding in the living room. The Immortal had already won, and the Watcher had no idea. How she longed to burst in there and give the old man the ammo he needed to get rid of Adalberto once and for all.


She couldn’t, the bastard had made sure of that a long time ago.


The Immortal had the ability to read minds, but only when people agreed to give him access to their thoughts. That wasn’t the case with Sofia. Her, he owned. It wasn’t a bargain she’d entered willingly; it was just the way it had been with the women of her family for a long time, ever since her grandmother’s great grandmother, Beatriz, was called as a Slayer.


She had heard the story from her mother, how the villagers had attacked the supernaturally strong girl, how a striking stranger had ridden through the village and saved her from the lynching mob by hauling her onto his horse.


Her mother hadn’t told her everything.



~~~~~*~~~~~



He took the girl to his castle, and kept her as his lover, training her so her skills could be fully developed and making sure all her wishes came true. It felt like a fairy tale for her, and when she asked what he wanted from her in return for all he’d done, his answer seemed all the more romantic.


“Your soul.”


She didn’t realize she was condemning her entire family line when she replied, “Yours.”


Beatriz was living a dream, one only shadowed by Adalberto’s rueful admittance that he couldn’t father a child. On her eighteenth birthday he told her he’d decided to bestow upon her the greatest gift. Motherhood. She questioned him, and he replied that just because the child wouldn’t be his biologically, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t be a proper father. He refused to answer any more of her questions. That night a handsome man joined her in bed. She protested, but Adalberto showed up by her side and held her hand while the stranger took her.


Nine months later she gave birth to a baby boy that she was told was stillborn. As if in a dream, she remembered hearing the baby cry through the haze induced by what her lover had given her to ease the pain, but she didn’t question him. She never saw her son’s body; the Immortal had decided to save her the heartache and dispose of it.


Two months later another handsome man appeared in her chambers. This time she didn’t even try to protest. The pregnancy was harder than the first one, but in the end she had a beautiful baby girl, Magdalena.


Five years later Beatriz disappeared, leaving behind her daughter and her diary.


The Immortal took great care of the girl, ensuring she received the best education possible. He was like a true father to her until the night she turned sixteen.


It was then that he gave her a choice, instead of a present. If she agreed to serve him unquestioningly, to become his in every respect for the next ten years, and pledge her soul to him, he would—at the end of those ten years—free her mother’s soul.


Magdalena was taken aback. She had always found it weird that her guardian didn’t age, but hadn’t associated him with anything supernatural. Now she had before her a monster with glowing yellow eyes, demanding her body and soul. She asked for time to think about things, but he warned her that Beatriz’s soul would be consumed in the fires of Hell if she didn’t give in to him. Frightened, she reluctantly agreed.


He was gentle with her, and she grew to accept him in her bed, but never allowed him entrance to her heart. When she was eighteen, she was given to one of his guardsmen to impregnate. The man was beautiful and a great lover, and Magdalena never got over the night they shared together. She sought him out when she found out she was pregnant, having forgotten the vow she’d given Adalberto and how her mother’s soul was at risk, and meaning to escape with the father of her child. The man tried to resist her, but her beauty and her desperate pleas got to him.


They began meeting regularly, becoming all the more careless as their passion consumed them. They made plans of leaving, had everything figured out, but he never showed up at their arranged meeting place on the night they’d agreed to make a run for it.


For hours she stayed there, in the dark, hoping against hope that he’d come for her.


When she finally returned to the castle, she was faced with a horrid sight. A mummy like creature, with the glowing yellow eyes she’d seen once before, was waiting for her. He grabbed her by the arm and hissed in the voice of Adalberto that she was lucky he was magnanimous enough to not damn her mother’s soul there and then. “Now you’ll see how I feed,” he told her.



~~~~~~*~~~~~~



Magdalena had never managed to reconcile the loving man she read about in her mother’s diaries with the one that ruled the rest of her life. She kept her own diary, hoping to prepare her own daughter for what was to come.


Adalberto had found the diary when Magdalena was killed at his orders after turning twenty six. He gave it to her daughter himself when she turned sixteen and had to make the same choice her mother had. The girl had tearfully accepted his bargain, and made her best to serve him for the rest of her short life.


It was the same diary that he’d handed Sofia, generations later, when he’d asked her to become his lover and so much more. She hadn’t shed a tear, instead accepting her fate bravely.


Now she was looking for a way out of that fate. The fact that she was already well beyond eighteen and he hadn’t tried to have her birth a child showed she was probably the last of her line he meant to have. She supposed that was good, but it suggested that nobody would save her soul after she passed away, and she had to do something about that. Sure, she knew more of his secrets than most of her predecessors, having been there for him after the Los Angeles near-Apocalypse, but the problem remained that she didn’t know how to use them against him without her master knowing.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Willow had fallen asleep sometime after four in the morning—at least it was four the last time she checked her watch, wondering where on earth, literally, Kennedy could be.


The forceful slamming of the Mansion’s door disrupted her slumber suddenly, making her heart speed in her chest. She raised her head from the notes on which it had dropped when she had no longer managed to keep her eyes open, and carefully peeled a piece of paper off her cheek. She really hated it when she drooled in her sleep.


“Ken?” she called out, hoping to hear her ex’s voice.


It wasn’t Kennedy, but Giles, that stormed into her room, cursing a blue streak.


“I guess—things didn’t go all that well, huh?” she asked groggily.


“The pillock made demands. Demands.” Giles threw his arms up. “I was there threatening to find a way to destroy him if he didn’t return Spike to where he came from, and he demanded that Buffy be returned to him and that we grant him pardon.” His voice sounded choked with emotion that Willow guessed went way beyond wrath.


Suddenly, all that emotion seemed to seep out of him, making his shoulders sag and his face look ancient. “Maybe we should give up on the idea of Spike going back. Maybe—” He took a deep breath and slumped into a chair opposite the redhead. “I should talk to Spike. Is it too early in the day for me to go by Buffy’s?”


He’d never shown such sensibilities in the past and it made Willow smile—however briefly—that he was concerned with waking up the vampires and Slayer now. “You wouldn’t find him, Giles.”


“Are they out? The sun is still up, and will be for hou—”


“He’s gone,” she cut him off. “Will be gone for a fortnight, if all goes well.”


“Oh, this is bloody priceless.”



~~~~~*~~~~~



It seemed there was no way for Buffy to stop her old Watcher from his rant.


He’d stormed into her apartment—after having banged on the door repeatedly, like he meant to break it down—dragging Willow behind him, and yelling I knew it.


It had taken her and William a while to make sense of his angry ramblings, but in the end they’d realized he was convinced that Spike had run away to escape going back and dying at the Hellmouth.


No matter how many times Buffy repeated that Spike was the one determined to go back, the man refused to listen. He insisted it was all a ploy to make them think that was what the vampire wanted, so that this silly excuse of a witch would help him run away.


William finally silenced him with a well placed punch to the nose that sent the man’s glasses flying without breaking them.


“Shut your gob,” he ordered as Rupert cupped his bleeding nose and crouched down to retrieve his glasses. “He would never run away from this. I would never run away from this.” He pointed at Buffy. “From her.”


Folding his spectacles into his breast pocket, Giles drew in a breath from his mouth and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to see if it was broken. “I apologize,” he said.


Slayer, vampire and wicca stared at him wide-eyed, so he repeated his words.


“I apologize. It’s my failing that made me come down so hard on Spike.” He wiped some blood off his upper lip with the back of his hand. “Even if he were here, the Immortal has refused to help us unless Buffy went back to him,” he added apologetically.


“All is solved then,” the blonde chirped with a grin. “I will go back to him. I’ll go back and kick some immortal ass.”


“And if Spike doesn’t come back?” Wisely, Giles decided to whisper his question.


“Then I’ll go in his place.” William squeezed his mate’s shoulder when her head snapped towards him. *He’ll be back*


Her eyes shone with unshed tears. *I know he’ll want to, I just hope he makes it*



~~~~~*~~~~~



Willow and Giles had just returned to the Mansion when the front door opened and Kennedy waltzed in. She seemed perfectly fine, and the afternoon sun pouring in after her dispelled the worst of Willow’s worries.


Before the redhead could find a way to ask where she’d been without alerting the Watcher to the fact that she’d been missing for more than a day, the Slayer winked at her and said, “If anybody wants me, I’ll be in the shower.”



Tbc.

Chapter 14




Nine days.


Nine whole days had gone by without word from Spike, and Buffy was sick and tired of twiddling her thumbs.


She’d drilled Willow repeatedly about where he was, but all the redhead had said had been that it was normal for Spike not to have contacted anyone. He needed time to himself. Right! Because Spike always preferred being alone to shagging her.


William kept trying to get her to relax, but that only became harder to do due to the sense of dread the blonde kept getting from him on the few instances his control over the mating bond wavered. The two had all but given up talking out loud when there was nobody else around, and she knew William was just as worried as she was, if not more.


They found solace in each other often, with a passion meant to compensate for the absence of their lover. Their couplings were desperate, almost furious at times, reminiscent to both of them of another sad, dark time. What differed was that now they could both see the love that bound them together. They could feel it in every scratch mark, every bite, every hard thrust, and it didn’t scare either of them any longer.


They started both snuggling up on one side of the bed every night, leaving the other empty in secret hope that Spike would somehow be there when they woke up.


For nine days their hopes had been shattered.


Buffy stretched in her lover’s arms, her hand automatically seeking the mattress for the second vampire, and once more finding nothing but the cool sheets.


*I have to do something* It was a musing, but William heard it clearly and tightened his hold around her waist.


*What do you have in mind?* He knew trying to disagree with her would get him nowhere. He’d felt this moment coming, knew the point where Buffy would decide she could no longer wait for life to happen was near.


Unlocking his arms from around her, she got out of bed. Not lazily, the way she usually did after shedding her tension through a series of sexual positions only achievable by superhuman beings—and acrobats—but in one fluid movement. She felt like a bundle of nerves, and radiated it to William, who could sense anticipation, anger, and a weird elation flowing from her subconscious.


“I go to him,” she said, bouncing on her toes to get her skin tight, low-cut jeans on. She didn’t have to clarify whom she was talking about.


The first time she’d mentioned it was right after Giles had informed them of the Immortal’s demands, but they’d all rushed to change her mind. Her emotional state was making her vulnerable to him, they’d insisted, and she’d agreed to give it some time. William had known even then that there was no way she’d wait until Spike was back to confront the man who’d messed their lives up so much and meant to toy with them some more.


He nodded. “Today?”


“Now.” She started buttoning up her shirt.


William was out of bed and in his own pair of jeans within little more than a blink of an eye.


*Going somewhere?* Her voice in his head sounded dead serious.


He just looked at her, eyebrow arched.


“Not with me, you’re not,” she said sternly.


He opened his mouth to protest—fighting without sound was not much fun—but she cut him off. “He’s not going to harm me or try to keep me there. He wants me to be with him willingly, that’ll be his victory. You are a different matter.”


“Bloke doesn’t rightly have a grasp of willingly, does he?”


She let out a bark of laughter. “I guess me making the choice is all he wants.” She shrugged. “If he wanted to do it another way he’d have done so after granting my wish.” Her voice went sultry as she went on. “I mean, I was in bed. Naked…”


Pulling his t-shirt over his head one-handed, he wrapped his free arm around her and brought her flush against his body. “But you weren’t alone, kitten.”


She cupped his face and kissed him gently, sending him the only thought that might reassure him; the only thought that reassured her. *I won’t be alone now, either. Ever again.*


He let her go, reluctantly.



~~~~~*~~~~~



William hated this whole thing. Not being with Buffy or Spike—that he loved. He didn’t even mind the Scoobies now that they were all grown up and not intent on messing with the Slayer’s happiness. What he hated was the choices at hand and—even more—he hated that he had to be the reasonable one.


A few years ago he would have gone to the Immortal’s place, guns blazing—well, fists and fangs, at least—and torn the pillock apart for daring to mess with his loved ones, or would have died trying. A few years ago he’d have said sod all, and done what he felt should be done. A few years ago… he was Spike. He’d made the decision not to be that vampire, that man, anymore when he thought all was lost. That had seemed the best way to make amends, to drive away his demons who kept blaming him for the loss of everything he loved.


Now he had a family again. And responsibility. He had to always think ahead, he had to anticipate, guess, prepare, fix…


God, he missed the old days. Other than the blood and the mayhem, which still seemed alluring when there was a threat to him and his, he missed thinking on his feet. He missed the fight.


But that wasn’t what his girl needed now.


What she needed was for him to be there and be strong. He could do that for her, he was doing that for her. Maybe once they’d gotten rid of the Immortal and Spike had gotten back to his Buffy to save that other universe, he could get his Slayer and go visit Faith at the Hellmouth. Maybe he and Buffy could take care of patrols; she’d need to keep herself occupied to get over the loss of Spike.


With a sigh, he did the only thing he could for the time being. He started dusting the living room.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Willow felt wary. Kennedy had been a different person since she got back and it was scary.


She was nice, full of smiles, offering her help with anything from breakfast to research, and not antagonizing anyone. It was simply unnerving.


The first night she was back, Kennedy had told Willow she realized they both needed time to heal, and that she’d give her some space. The brunette had even apologized to her for their fight and promised to try her best to be more understanding, if only the Wiccan would give her a chance. Willow was so blindsided by that, she couldn’t respond with anything more than a weak OK. The scariest thing was that Ken seemed to really mean it. She’d been flirty since, but spent nights at The Manor, with the younger Slayers. And she was… mellow, something the redhead had no idea how to handle.


Giles seemed confused by his charge’s transformation too, although he was obviously way more pleased than Willow. Kennedy had become prompt with her training sessions, didn’t try to bait him, and seemed genuinely concerned with the whole Spike matter.


All in all, she was a new and improved Kennedy and Willow felt ungrateful for not being happy but instead filled with dread every time the girl beamed a smile at her or did something nice.


Like now, for example. Why on earth was she washing the dishes? And grinning?


The redhead looked around frantically, trying to catch the eye of anyone who saw things the same way. Giles was too absorbed by his reading material, Xander was replacing the screws on the cupboard door that had given way and made the whole thing lopsided, and Dawn was looking at him, occasionally making playful comments about him being her knight in shining armour.


Letting out a dejected sigh, she stood up and said to nobody in particular, “I’ll be upstairs. I—I have some research waiting for me.”


Dawn was the only one who showed she heard her. “I’ll come help,” she offered.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Buffy stood outside the iron gates and took a deep breath. *Signal still clear?*


*Crystal, kitten.*


*I’m going in.*


She could hear his sharp intake of breath even from so far away. *Go. I’ll be here, like a good little wife,* he tried for a joke.


Blowing him a kiss in her mind she placed her index finger on the buzzer, her body taut as if she was expecting an electrical current.


Bleep.



~~~~~*~~~~~



“Okay, what’s the deal with psycho-Slayer?” Dawn asked before even closing the door behind her. “Have you been giving her extra sugar, lately?” She pronounced sugar as sugah, making Willow laugh despite herself.


“Nope. There has been no giving of sugar. Extra or otherwise.”


“That’s weird.” Dawn pounced on the bed, making the springs bounce under her weight. “She seems über-happy.”


“I know!” The redhead was dizzy with relief. “She’s all… Stepford-y.”


The younger girl giggled briefly, then turned suddenly serious. “You know, Wills, I never really liked her, but I don’t think I’d have liked anyone with you after…” Tara’s name remained unsaid. Seeing her friend nod with understanding, she went on, “But if she makes you happy… Well, we all need some of that lately, don’t you think?”


“She doesn’t—”


“Oh, thank God!” She exhaled dramatically, wiping imaginary perspiration off her forehead for effect. “I feel like Donald Sutherland when she’s around. I keep expecting her to start pointing and going eeeeeeeee!”


Willow rolled her eyes. “You, Miss. Summers Junior, are a riot.”


“I know. I was born this way.” She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Seriously, now, what’s up with Kennedy? This whole perky act is scaring me. Even Xander noticed.”


The Wiccan shrugged. “I don’t know, Dawnie. It’s weird, and I think we should keep an eye on her.”


“Can it be my eye?” Both girls startled as Xander entered the room.


“I mean,” he went on like he’d been part of the conversation from the start, “-she just offered to make me coffee. We’re talking Bodysnatchers stuff!”



~~~~~*~~~~~



Buffy was led to the gardens, where Adalberto waited for her, an elaborate late lunch spread out on the table in front of him.


“It is good to see you finally decided to visit me, Buffy.” His pronunciation made her name sound like an unknown word. “Will you join me?”


“I didn’t come here to eat, Adalberto. We have a score to settle.” Her voice was icy, but he didn’t seem the least bit fazed.


“Have you not heard of combining business with pleasure?” he asked innocently. His eyes glowed when he added, “Your business, my pleasure.” He stood and pulled out the chair opposite his before calling out Sofia.


A girl about Buffy’s age appeared out of nowhere with a bottle of wine and the blonde had to make an effort to bite back a gasp.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Spike lay motionless on the dirty floor, concentrating hard on finding one square centimetre of his body that wasn’t in pain. His throat felt raw, he was losing pints of blood from wounds he was sure he wouldn’t stay conscious long enough to count, and he was willing to bet he’d broken more than a couple of ribs.


Using strength he didn’t know he had left in him, he filled his lungs with air—braving the pain—and bellowed, “The second time around is supposed to be easier, you pillocks. And I don’t mean the transportation part!”


No response came from the darkness surrounding him, so he let his eyelids drift shut again and gave in to the exhaustion that had been flirting with him for days.


The next time he opened his eyes, the all consuming darkness had been replaced by a grey haze. A voice, rough like someone gurgling with gravel, reached his ears. “You have endured the required trials.”


“Twice,” was Spike’s reply—much cockier than he felt. “Now can I have my bloody soul, or will we have to do a song and dance first?”


“Your soul?” The demon’s voice suddenly lost its boom. “We cannot give that which is already taken…” He sounded about as apologetic as something of his species could. “Surely you knew that.”


Spike sprang to his feet, every muscle of his body reminding him why he’d lain still until then. “What are you sayin’?”


“The one who walks this realm as William has the soul he gained. You cannot share that or have another.”


If his fists weren’t already a bloody mess, Spike would have used them on the walls of the cave to let out even a little of the frustration he felt suffocating him. He could be of no use to Buffy—to either Buffy—unless he was whole again.


Or maybe…


“Seein’ as you failed to divulge that little bit of information when you promised anythin’ I desired, mate, I’d say you owe me one.”


The demon looked at him unblinkingly. “What do you want, vampire?”






Tbc.

He stood and pulled out the chair opposite his before calling out Sofia.


A girl about Buffy’s age appeared out of nowhere with a bottle of wine and the blonde had to make an effort to bite back a gasp.



Chapter 15



“Let us look at the facts, shall we?” Adalberto asked once Buffy had finally taken a seat. “Or would you rather do that after we eat?”


The Slayer tried really hard to not let her eyes wander in the direction of the girl, who—having filled their glasses with wine—stood right behind the Immortal. “There will be no eating for me. If you can chew and talk, do so. If not, you’ll eat later.” Her tone brooked no argument.


“You know I find talking with one’s mouth full appalling, cara. Let us get business out of the way and then per chance you’ll find your appetite has grown.” He smiled condescendingly. “The facts are simple. You need me to send back one of your vampire lovers, whom you forced my hand into bringing here. Since that would negate our initial agreement—my life for your fantasy—that would mean danger to me. I dislike danger.”


“Well, you’re in danger if you don’t help,” she answered with a matching smile.


“I beg to disagree.” Taking his glass of wine, he twirled it once in his hand before taking a small sip and closing his eyes in ecstasy. “Are you sure you do not wish to taste the wine? It is magnificent.”


“I do not wish to taste the wine, or anything else you have to offer. Tell me what you told Giles, or I’m gone.”


“You do not get to make demands, cara.” His voice was stern, like scolding a child. “If you want me to help you out, you will have to promise to return to me and stay here for one year, doing anything I ask of you.”


Buffy couldn’t bite back a snort. “Do you really expect me to agree to that?”


“Yes. I do.”


Pushing her chair back, she stood and slammed both hands on the table, making wine spill out of her glass. “You are a dead man,” she hissed.


Adalberto didn’t even flinch, but from the corner of her eye she saw Sofia frantically shake her head no.


“You can not kill me, Slayer. None of you can. One year of your life for saving the world, that is my offer.”



~~~~~*~~~~~



William roared, the anguished sound reverberating off the walls in the small living room.


He’d listened in on the conversation his mate had had with the Immortal, but that wasn’t the cause of his agony. What made his unbeating heart feel like it’d been torn from his chest was that he’d felt Buffy’s real response. He’d sensed the moment she’d thought that if giving Adalberto a year of her life was the only way they could return Spike to his own time, she’d do it. And then she’d closed down their link.


The pain in his gut was excruciating and made him fold over. He gripped the living room table so hard that the wood crumbled in his hands. His soul ached, the stupid thing.


Straightening up took effort, but the moment he managed it he turned and punched the wall with all his strength.


The sharp sting from the hit helped him focus his thoughts. It wasn’t like him to give up or despair. He was a fighter. He’d fight for Buffy—he was proficient at that—and he’d fight for the world.


And he’d win.


It wouldn’t be the first time he did either.




~~~~~*~~~~~



Willow noticed the glow coming from under her bed as Xander and Dawn were having a little tiff over which movie to go to.


The two had become really close in the past few months, and the Wiccan kept wondering if she should tell them they already sounded like an old married couple and should therefore date, or if that would make Buffy go after her, full-Slayer-force.


Now wasn’t the time to do something like that, anyway. Spike’s t-shirt was calling for her.


“OK, people, take that somewhere else, please.” She not so gently nudged them out of her room. “I’m supposed to be doing research here!” Closing the door to their questioning faces, she ran to her bed.


Kneeling next to it, she retrieved the t-shirt. “Oh, thank God!”




Nine days ago~~~~



“Have you been practicing your teleportin’ lately?” There was a crazy glint in Spike’s eyes, something she remembered from the time he was determined to bag his third Slayer.


She had been afraid of him back then, but not anymore. “Naturally,” she replied. “But you know I can’t send you back to your now without—”


He stopped her with a finger on her lips. “Don’t want you to send me back. Not like this.” Seeing her eyebrows rise in a silent question, he explained. “I have no soul, Red. We sort of need one, if I’m to avert the Apocalypse.” He lowered his hand.


“So you want me to…”


“Send me to Africa. The caves.”


“I can do that! Do you know exactly where they are?”


He nodded and she opened her mouth to start the chanting, but was stopped by the sight of him pulling his shirt off. “What are you doing?”


“You’ll need somethin’ to bring me back with, right? I’m thinkin’ Buffy will be reluctant to give you anythin’ I’ve touched after you tell her you can’t say where I’ve gone.”


The redhead’s eyes grew to saucer size. “I can’t not tell Buffy. I have to tell her. She’ll kill me. Hey, you should have told her. Why didn’t you tell her? Buffy doesn’t know?”


Spike just let her drive herself to hyperventilation, watching with growing amusement. When she had to pause to catch her breath, he said. “Promise.”


“I promise,” she sighed. “But you better come back in one piece, or I’m telling her, and she’s coming there to dust you.” The lack of sense in her threat was noted by them both, but neither commented.


“Just give me two weeks,” he said. “Tops. Then you can zap me back.”


She took the shirt he handed her. “If you want me to get you before that, just—”


“Click my heels and say there’s no place like home?”


She scratched her chin, appearing deep in thought. “Actually… yes.”


“Oh, come on, Red, I was jokin’,” he pleaded.


“Do you want my help or not?”



~~~~~*~~~~~



Willow thought of Spike in a cave in Africa, surrounded by demons, clicking his Doc Martin’s heels and quoting from The Wizard of Oz. This really called for an evil cackle, but she was so relieved he was ready to come back that she couldn’t be bothered.


Focusing all her senses on him, she said the magic words that would make one William the Bloody materialize in her bathroom. There was no way she’d land him anywhere near her bedroom carpet; he was sure to be a mess.


“Hello, cutie,” he greeted her with his trademark leer, rising from his crouching position on the tiled floor. “Miss me?”


“I know of at least two people who missed you more, but yeah I did.” She squished him briefly before searching his eyes. “Everything sorted?”


“Everythin’ sorted.”


The hard part was getting him out of the house. Nobody was supposed to see him before Buffy and William did. Spike was adamant on that. He was also seriously less trashed than expected.


“Was it easier the second time around?”


“Piece of cake.” He winked.



~~~~~*~~~~~



It had taken Willow going down to the basement of the Manor and then screaming to high Heavens that a mouse attacked her for Spike to be able to leave the premises unnoticed. Now he was standing outside Buffy’s apartment door, waiting for someone to let him in.


The someone that did looked exactly like him, bleached hair and all.


“Blimey, I do look hotter with this hair,” he said.


William grabbed him by the back of the head and kissed him hard. “I missed you, you fucker. Where have you been?” he asked, walking backwards and pulling Spike with him.


“Long story.” Spike kicked the door shut behind him and peeled his tee off. “What’s with the hair?”


William kissed him again. “Need to feel more like myself,” he said, breaking the kiss off so he could undo his jeans.


“Buffy?” The younger vampire popped his jeans’ buttons off and pushed them down his hips as his older self did the same.


“Long story. Later.”


Spike froze in the middle of taking his boots off. “Is she ok?”


“Only until I kill her.” William helped him with the second boot. “Bedroom?”


“Too far.”


William leered, waggling his eyebrows. “You know, you should suck my cock for makin’ us worry.”


The other man didn’t need to be told twice. He shoved William on the couch and crouched between his legs. “The accent the same story as the hair?” he asked before taking the other’s already hard cock in his mouth.


“Fuck, yeah!”


William’s fingers got tangled into Spike’s hair, as the other blond sucked him slowly. “Faster, you git.” His hips flew off the cushion as Spike did just that, managing to get all of his length down his throat. Bloody hell, he needed that. He needed the rough and tumble to get his mind off his worry over Buffy. He needed the connection with the other vampire, craved the reassurance their fucking would provide. He had his ally back, and now he’d never lose his girl again. They’d find a way around what that pillock, the Immortal, wanted, and…


Spike stopped what he was doing and raised his head to ask, “Is it my impression or are you not payin’ attention?”


“I am, I am!”


“I think you’re not.” Pushing William’s legs up, he licked down his scrotum. “But I’ll change that.”


The wicked tongue flicked its way up William’s shaft before lips closed over the tip of his cock again. He gasped when Spike sucked hard on his erection while at the same time pushing a finger roughly up his ass. “No,” he said.


Spike’s eyebrows rose, but his head kept bobbing.


“I fuck you,” William explained, only for Spike to let go of his cock with a plop.


“I fought demons, mate. I sucked your cock.” He started pushing a second finger through the tight ring of muscle.


Fast as lightning, William sat up and pushed Spike back. “You made us worry,” he growled, his demonic face replacing his handsome features. “I’m on top.”


Spike tried to push him off, and they both ended up rolling off the couch and wrecking the coffee table. “See what you did?” Spike whined. “She’ll have our dust for that.”


Laughing, William kissed him again—sharp teeth bloodying the other’s lips—and nudged his legs apart with one knee. He’d landed on top.


“Oh, ok, you big bully, have it your way.”


Wasting no time with preparation, William brought Spike’s knees to his chest, aligned his cock with the other vampire’s puckered hole and pushed.


Spike’s face changed, bumps appearing instinctively as burning pain seared through him, but he didn’t fight the intrusion, instead pressing on towards it. He sensed that this wasn’t about sex; it was about control. William, for some reason, needed to take control of something, and he could give him that.


William’s fangs sliced Spike’s throat as he buried his shaft deep inside his younger self in one hard thrust. They both shivered, lying still for a few moments, before William’s hips started pumping.


Spike moaned. The fangs in his throat and William’s rough tongue lapping at his blood counterbalanced the pain and soon drowned it out, replacing it with almost unbearable pleasure.


William felt like crying at the other man’s submission, but fought the urge, making his thrusts harder. His hand snaked between their bodies and started stroking Spike’s cock at the same time with every downward motion.


It was like a dance. Their bodies were perfectly synced, as they panted and sweated, muscles rippling under marble-white skin. Nothing but the sound of ragged breathing and flesh slapping against flesh filled the next few minutes, until William withdrew his fangs and ordered, “You first.”


Spike didn’t need to be told twice. The pounding to his prostrate and William’s grip on his cock was proving to be too much anyway, but he was waiting for William. The moment his older self said he could, he let his orgasm overtake him, coating William’s fingers and both their stomachs with his spendings.


Feeling the other vampire clench around him, William had to fight for the next couple of thrusts. He hoped he wasn’t hurting Spike more, but couldn’t control the jerking of his hips as he too reached his release. Finally empty and as relaxed as he could be, he claimed Spike’s lips again, this time gently. “Thank you.”


“If I don’t lower my legs within the next couple of minutes, I may lose sensation in them forever,” was the other blond’s reply.


William groaned, but he stood up and held his hand out for Spike to take. Having helped him up, he suggested they showered and went to bed. “There’s a couple of long stories to share,” he said.


“Shouldn’t we wait for Buffy?” There was alarm in his voice, as he considered the possibility of Buffy not coming back. “Where is she?”


“She’s coming,” William reassured him, his eyes taking in the unmarred skin of Spike’s throat. “I’ll fill you in on what happened here and when she’s home you can tell us where you’ve been.”



~~~~~*~~~~~



“Oh my God, William, what happened here?” Buffy counted the broken coffee table legs at a glance and was relieved they were all there, and thus none had been used as a stake. *William?* she called out in her mind, opening the claim bond again and sighing when she heard him call her to bed.


*You better have a very good story about what wrecked my living room, or—* whatever threat she was about to mentally throw at him was cut short at the sight waiting for her. “Spike!” she shrieked, jumping on the bed. “You’re home!”


“And just in time to keep you from bein’ stupid, I hear.”




Tbc.

Chapter 16



Though Spike longed to get lost inside Buffy—especially since she was now gracing him with the pout—he decided it wasn’t time yet. Things had to be discussed and sorted out. Then there’d be sex, he promised himself.


Buffy shed her clothes and crawled into bed, acting oblivious to his last remark. He returned her kiss when she attacked his lips, but restrained her hands when she tried to get all naughty on him, tucking her against his side. “William told me somethin’ I don’t want to believe, kitten,” he told her, caressing her face. “Care to explain?”


*Remind me to kick your butt later, Mr. Nosy* She glared at William, who slapped her butt.


“You better explain,” he replied. “And try to convince us you didn’t agree to anythin’ immensely dangerous.”


She sighed and looked at his hair. “What’s with the dye job? How will I tell you two apart now? You even sound like him.”


Spike growled at her to stop stalling, while William sent her his thoughts. *As if you’d ever have trouble with that.*


Finally conceding, she flipped on her back and threw her arms over her head. “I know you guys don’t agree, but I had to take his offer.” Twin growls met her confession, but she didn’t budge. “It’s just a year, after all.”


“A year durin’ which that pillock will have the most powerful weapon at his disposal. You.” William was trying hard not to have thoughts that Buffy could consider accusatory.


She closed her eyes, nibbling on her lower lip. “We talked about that. He promised not to have me fight his wars.”


“Then what—” Spike’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him.


William, privy to Buffy’s subconscious, beat him to it. Jumping off the bed, he roared, “NEVER.”


Spike grabbed both her wrists, forcing her to look at him. “Are you off your rocker? Immortal wants a sex-slave, and you take the job?”


“I didn’t see another way…” Her voice was small, sounding lost.


“There’s always another way.” Nearing the bed again, William took hold of her ankles and pulled her suddenly so that her lower body all but flew off the mattress. He sank inside her abruptly, not caring about preparing her, not caring about enjoyment, or anything other than renewing his claim on her. “Mine.” His face shifted, fangs elongating and embedding themselves into her neck.


“Yours,” she cried out, clawing at his back, her body initially fighting him off at the same time her soul ached for him.


Spike watched them couple like animals. He always loved seeing Buffy so wanton, and with William now looking exactly like him, it was like watching himself fuck her. Still, he envied their connection, convinced he’d never share anything similar with his own Buffy. His own… she was never his, and would probably never be. Still, he’d save her world, if only to show her that the stupid soul wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.


And suddenly he realized this Buffy had done the right thing.


“Do you really think cuttin’ in is wise right now?” William seriously hated Spike poking his shoulder with his index finger. He wanted to shag Buffy into oblivion, and couldn’t really care less if the younger vampire needed to share.


Spike crossed his arms over his chest and lay back down. “Well, don’t be all Spike, why didn’ you say anythin’ sooner afterwards.” He’d sulk for a while, then be their knight in shining armour, save the day, fill them in on his trip and finally get his turn.


Those two really took their sweet time.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Tears were flowing freely down Buffy’s cheeks. The thoughts and feelings William unwittingly projected were desperate; thoughts and feelings of a man who knew he was about to lose everything he held dear in life. He moved inside her hard, bruising her thighs with his force, but she met his thrusts with all she had, needing to show him he wasn’t alone in his hurt.


She wanted nothing more than to be able to tell him she’d never leave his side, but that would be a lie, so she tried soothing him by showing she’d take anything he needed to dish out.


Finally spent, he let his body cover hers while he peppered her face with kisses. “I’m so sorry I hurt you, luv. So sorry…”


She smiled and let her fingers trace his jaw line, her thumb caressing the angle of his cheekbone. “I’m fine, you didn’t hurt me. You’d never hurt me,” she assured him. “And we’ll be all right. It’s just a year…”


Spike cleared his throat. “Not a year. Not a day, even.”


Both blondes turned to him, matching looks of disbelief on their faces.


“Tried to tell you sooner, but you were too busy bein’ drama queens.” He tucked his tongue behind his teeth.


A whole minute went by in total silence, until Buffy couldn’t hold back any longer. “Well?” Her neck was craned at an awkward angle, as she lay trapped under William.


“Well what?”


Withdrawing from his mate’s body, William scowled at him, human face back into place. “Will you stop bein’ a git and tell us, already?”


“What do I get for sharin’?” Seeing they were both about to start spouting threats, he hurried to continue. “And it better be nookie.”


No answer came. “All right, I’ll be nice and tell you this: Buffy can’t sign off what isn’t hers.”


“Enough with the cryptic, Spike, please.” Buffy had rolled to her stomach and was waving her feet in the air impatiently.


“You’re his mate.” It was obvious he thought he needn’t say more.


William let out a bark of laughter and gathered the other vampire into his arms in a very unmanly hug. “How did I get to be so smart?”


The Slayer’s brow wrinkled in confusion before her entire face was lit by a grin. “You’re so getting nookie!” She pounced on the two men and started tickling them, until Spike managed to still her body under his.


“You’re not getting it just now.” She averted her face when he tried to kiss her. “Have to share where you’ve been first. And there’s the me-being-mad-at-you period to calculate in there, too.”


Spike sighed. He seriously hoped the other two would find his plan as brilliant as he thought it to be. Being naked in bed with them and… talking felt like such a colossal waste.



~~~~~*~~~~~



“You idiot! Why didn’t you wait until you were back where you belong?” William was furious. “You know you’re not allowed to take the tests again, now!”


Spike looked at Buffy for support that wasn’t coming.


“What he said,” she told him, pointing her thumb at William.


“I thought I better be prepared,” he mumbled apologetically, his eyes looking from one to the other. “We don’t know at what point in time I’ll be sent back. Can’t get me to exactly when I was taken, or it could cause another rift, remember?”


Buffy chewed on the inside of her cheek. “So what did you ask for? Did you tell them to send you back?”


“Can’t ask for anythin’ not to do with this Universe,” William interjected. “Or for harm to another. There are a couple more limitations, but these are basically it.”


“What did you ask for?” She prayed it was nothing stupid and immediately regretted having such thoughts for him.


“Actually, I made a rather good bargain, if I do say so myself.” He grinned with pride. “A two-fer-one.”


“Will you cut to the chase, or do I have to spank it out of you?” Buffy realized her threat wasn’t all that threatening when she saw the glint in Spike’s eye.


“You may have to suck it ou—OW!”


William widened his eyes innocently, as if he hadn’t just punched him in the nose.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Spike’s plan was rather ingenious after all, Buffy decided, kissing and licking her way down the vampire’s abs. That was, assuming the other Buffy was less of a bitch than she’d been... Fat chance of that, she thought. Especially if time moved faster in that other universe, the absence of Spike could in no way have helped Buffy’s personality.


Her face reddened in shame at the memory of how Spike had acted as a dumping ground for her basest of feelings.


William kissed the small of her back, sending her soothing thoughts. That was all behind them. They were happy now, he assured her as he laid open-mouthed kisses along her spine.


She smiled against Spike’s skin then moved lower to flick her tongue over the tip of his cock.


He pushed her hair out of her face and gathered it at the top of her head so he could watch himself slowly disappear between her lips. Her eyes locked on his while she downed more of his length, humming around him.


William wasn’t idle. His face was framed by Buffy’s thighs as he now lay on his back, teasing her folds with his tongue. He licked along her slit, unhurriedly, on occasion dipping inside her, but never giving her exactly what she wanted.


She needed friction. She pushed back, but William was relentless in his teasing, holding her hips still and just breathing against her labia.


He bit the inside of her thigh, making her gasp, her teeth grazing the underside of Spike’s cock.


“Not that I don’t enjoy foreplay,” the latter commented with a moan. “But if I don’t shag someone now I’ll be very disappointed.”


William chuckled, sending delicious vibrations all the way to Buffy’s womb. “She’s all yours, mate.”


Raising her head from what she was sure was the best blowjob she’d ever given, Buffy glared at him over her shoulder.


“You’re mine to do with as I please, right? I can choose to keep you for myself or share you.” He sat up behind her and slapped a white buttock. Mock innocence was drawn all across his features. “We already said that’s the case where the Immortal is concerned.” He leered.


If he meant to say something else, it was cut off by Buffy crying out, “Oh no, you didn’t!” Spinning around, she threw him back and landed on top of him.


He fought to get free, finally managing to roll so that she was under him, but then a hard, masculine body was draped over his, something firm and unyielding nudging his thigh.


“Busted!” Buffy grinned and embraced him, holding his arms fast against his upper body. Her heels dug into the back of his knees, forcing them open and giving Spike the room he needed to edge between them.


“May I?” Spike asked Buffy over William’s shoulder.


“Be my guest. He’s mine to keep or share.” She nibbled on her mate’s lobe, then whispered, “Right, lover?”


Reaching for the lubricant on the bedside table, Spike lathered his cock with a generous amount of the liquid. “See? I’m an evil soulless monster, and yet I care,” he teased before pushing forward.


William’s knees slipped, his already hard member rubbing Buffy’s clitoris at the same time Spike thrust inside him. His muscles clenched at the intrusion in his anus, adding to the pain, but his mate took his mind off it. She bucked her hips, changing the angle between their pelvises so that his shaft got buried inside her to the hilt.


Spike pulled back slightly then drove inside him again, sending him deeper inside Buffy.


William felt like he was on fire, a feeling he knew all too well. Buffy’s heat and Spike’s cock rubbing against his prostate with every down stroke would reduce him to ashes, he was sure. Still, he didn’t mind. This time he’d go to heaven; such a blissful death wouldn’t lead him any place else.


Buffy could feel his thoughts as he took her body to new levels of ecstasy. It was like she had them both inside her—William and Spike—the way she was attuned to the pleasure her mate was feeling. She was overwhelmed by sensations that her body wasn’t meant to ever experience, yet which she’d never forget. William’s cock was pumping inside her pussy, and at the same time she could feel her walls constricting around his length as though she was him. And she could feel Spike’s dick ramming inside her… him… she no longer knew where William ended and she began. Nor did she care.


Spike had no way of sharing the orgasmic waves that drowned his lovers, but he felt complete just by being part of the triangle they comprised. He was loved, he was wanted, and he had hope. It was not the reckless hope that stemmed from ignorance of danger; this was hope born by the knowledge that there were people who loved him enough to not let him fall, that filled his unbeating heart.


They writhed together—seeking so much more than pleasure from one another—for hours; three bodies moving as one, one heart beating for three. Two souls entwined, and a vampire that needed no soul to save the world.





Tbc.

Chapter 17



Buffy’s foot was tapping restlessly against the leg of the coffee table. “I don’t get why we have to talk about it again, Giles. Seriously.” They’d already wasted an hour going over her meeting with Adalberto and the plan on what to do next, and she was feeling stupid for deciding to let her friends in on it. She, Spike and William should have gone through with it all and tell them about it afterwards.


Shaking his head the man gave the only answer he could. “Because we have to, Buffy. You can’t just all jump in there; we have no clue what awaits you.”


Spike and William were an odd sight now that they looked exactly the same. Their matching bored expressions made Dawn giggle.


Giles just raised an eyebrow and the girl mumbled an apology, stifling a second giggle when both vampires cocked their scarred eyebrows at the same time.


“OK, this is unnerving. At least go to opposite sides of the room,” Xander groused.


“Focus, people.” Willow snapped her fingers impatiently and nodded for Giles to go on.


“Right. Well, according to your deal with the Immortal, all three of you will be sent to the universe Spike—” he tilted his head towards one of the blonds flanking Buffy on the couch, only to be informed with a smirk that that was William. “Well, you know who I mean,” he replied haughtily before continuing. “To the universe Spike was taken from. Buffy, you and William will be allowed half an hour there before being returned here. Correct?”


All three nodded this time.


“Right. Do you have any inkling as to what point in time you will be sent to? What do you and William hope to accomplish in half an hour there, whenever that there may be?”


Buffy took a deep breath, closing her eyes before saying, “We don’t know when it’ll be there. We know it’s gonna be before the Sunnydale apocalypse, but nothing more than that. And I don’t know about William, but I mean to have a chat with other-Buffy.” She looked at her ex-Watcher challengingly, but the man just nodded.


“What if it is too close to the apocalypse? Spike doesn’t have his soul back; he will not be able to help! And you know very well that the Immortal cannot be trusted. What if this is a ploy to leave you all stranded there, giving him the freedom to run amuck here?”


“Spike went to Africa,” Buffy replied. “And Adalberto could try and get rid of us another way if that was what he wanted.”


“Spike went to Africa? He got his soul back?” His eyes shone with something Buffy recognized as respect.


“Oi, stop talkin’ about me like I’m not here!” He didn’t think the Watcher would appreciate the reward he got instead of the soul, not with his trust issues.


“I do apologize for my rudeness, Spike.” He didn’t sound very apologetic. “But I’m worried that you’re all going head first into a situation that you haven’t the faintest how to handle.”


William interjected. “We’ve handled it before, Watcher.”


Giles’ eyes softened. “I know. I remember what it did to all of you. For the last time I ask you to reconsider. Either do nothing, or let Spike go alone.”


“We’ve tried for so long to get him back there, Giles. What’s wrong with you?” She couldn’t believe the man’s reluctance to go along with the plan. Of course, that might be because nobody had bothered to fill him in on the details of the plan.


“Yes, well, we’ve tried convincing the Immortal to help, and I’m quite aware of what he demanded in return. You have yet to tell me how you managed to work around that.”


“I had a pretty compelling argument.” Sitting back, she crossed her arms in her patented Buffy-has-had-enough-of-this-conversation stance.


“Your reasoning has indeed always been your stronger quality,” Giles said sarcastically. “I passionately dislike being in the dark, Buffy. Tell me what exactly you promised him to acquire his assistance.”


Buffy opened her mouth hoping an elaborate yet convincing lie would jump out of it, but Kennedy all but hopped by the living room on her way to the kitchen, cutting all conversations short with her eerily giddy hello.


“Well, we should be going,” the blonde uttered with relief, pointedly ignoring her ex-Watcher’s glare. By the silence and weird looks the others exchanged upon the second Slayer’s entrance, she knew nobody would push the point in front of Kennedy. Jumping off the couch, she gave Giles a reluctant hug. “We’ll be fine. All of us.”


He closed his arms around her. “Good.” His voice sounded choked.


Dawn lunged at Spike the moment he stood up, squeezing the air out of his lungs. “Tell my other sister to take care of you, or I’ll find her and kick her ass, ok?”


Blinking rapidly to hold back the tears that threatened to make an appearance, he nodded.


“Please be well.” She squeezed him again, then let him go so she could hug William. “And you be back.”


“Will do, Nibblet.” He kissed her cheek.


Willow and Xander also said their goodbyes, the one-eyed carpenter surprising them all by telling William there was no return policy on Buffy and so he had to come back in one piece and suffer her, and telling Spike he hoped his version of Buffy and the Scoobies saw the light earlier.


Kennedy re-entered the room unnoticed while the hug-fest was still going strong, with Giles actually telling Spike it was interesting meeting him—and meaning it. “What’s going on? What did I miss?”


Willow shook her head, wiping at her eyes with the heel of one hand. “Spike is going back, we found a way.”


The smile on the brunette’s face was shark-like. “Really? Good for him.”



~~~~ A few days earlier



He had her the moment he suggested taking power from Buffy and giving it to her, they both knew that. Still, they both kept up the pretence.


“I’m listening.” Kennedy was more than interested in how exactly he meant to achieve what he wanted.


“Buffy needs to send Spike back, correct?”


Kennedy scoffed. “If she decides to look beyond what her cunt needs for a change.”


“She will, cara. The vampire won’t let her keep him here; he longs and worries for his own Slayer.” He grinned. “Which suits us both perfectly.”


She arched her eyebrows, waiting for him to explain.


“The only way to send him back is for me to help her. The spell that brought him here has been veiled so well that your little witch will not be able to find traces to lead her to the right universe.”


“And what will you ask for, in order to help her?” She expected to hear him say something along the lines of having Buffy take the power-stripping serum.


“I shall ask that she become my lover for a year.”


She stood so fast she sent the armchair skidding a couple of feet back. “Your plan is about how to fuck her? You got me here, drugged me, made me listen to your supposedly grandiose ideas, so you could fuck her?”


“Sit. Down.” All charm had left the man. “I am not finished, and I do not need a plan to fuck some… zoccola who beds vampires.”His voice was a menacing roar.


Kennedy hated herself for actually feeling threatened by the man in front of her, but did as she was told.


Granting her a satisfied smile, Adalberto went on, like his outburst had never happened. “During the year that Buffy will be… indisposed, you will make sure everyone knows why exactly she is not fighting the… come si dice…?” He looked up, as if waiting for the words to drop from above. “Ah, yes. The good fight.” He reached out and circled the young woman’s wrist with his fingers. “You will make sure they all know her priority was a vampire, and that it’s because of him that she now sleeps with a Hell God.”


Kennedy’s eyes widened, but before she could say a word, Adalberto spoke again.


“And you’ll have to kill William when I tell you it’s time.” He placed his hands on his lap, fingers entwined. “You will be the Slayer army’s new leader. You will have to erase the things that could challenge that.”


That wouldn’t be exactly a chore for Kennedy. William had been grating on her nerves for more than just being a vampire. All the slayerettes kept talking about how he’d helped in Sunnydale, how he was smart, and strong, and so many things they always mentioned wide-eyed. He wasn’t the only one who fought on the Hellmouth, and Kennedy knew that deciding to go white-hat out of lust didn’t mean he ceased being a vampire. She wondered how people kept forgetting that. Well, they’d remember once she slew him! “There’s someone else who could challenge that.” Seeing the man narrow his eyes, she explained, “Faith.” She spat the name out as if it disgusted her. And it did. The second of the older Slayers had offered to lead them in Sunnydale, only to give up and follow Buffy when things got too dire. Ken had seen her smoke and joke with Spike, and had heard the stories about her. She was only better than Buffy in that she wanted to sleep with the enemy, not marry him.


“Accidents do tend to happen on Hellmouths. Especially to nosy slayers.” His chuckle was disturbing.


Looking straight into his eyes, Kennedy asked a question out of pure curiosity. “What do you get out of all this? Other than a Slayer in your bed.”


“That alone should be enough, but it’s not my goal. It’s just a means to making the Slayer line pure again.”


He was lying through his teeth, but she didn’t mind.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Kennedy should have minded, but she was too focused on getting what she felt was rightfully hers to worry about it.


Of course, that was what the Immortal had been counting on.


The LA almost-apocalypse would have been good enough to last him for a full century, but his silly stunt with Buffy in the nightclub had made him miss it. He’d make sure to rectify that. With Kennedy as his pawn and Buffy as his slave, he could feed undisturbed and rejuvenate himself in safety.


The gate buzzer brought him out of his reverie. He smiled. Soon he’d get what he wanted.


Or so he thought, having left one factor out of his equation and not knowing about another.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Sofia knew the time was near for whatever Adalberto’s plan was to be set in motion. She knew bits and pieces of it, had heard things he obviously hadn’t expected her to make sense of, and she’d figured out that whatever his plan, it entailed her being replaced.


She would have rejoiced at that thought if it didn’t mean she would die and her soul would remain his to either keep enslaved or devour. Her only hope for escaping that fate would be to get help, and she knew just where to find it. Her comings and goings from the house were monitored—if not controlled—by her master, however. What was more, he would know her thoughts unless she made sure to shield them at all times, and even then she wouldn’t be completely safe. Not if he decided to probe more.


Then there was the issue of what would happen to her mother’s soul if she managed to escape. She knew where Adalberto kept it—had noticed the hidden passage in the crypts under the castle during the Immortal’s underground spell the previous year. Still, she had no clue how to free it. If anything more than physically releasing it was needed, she was at a loss.


She had to act fast and she had to be careful. Extremely careful.


Way more careful than she had been with the young Slayer Adalberto had lured in the other day. Sofia smiled sadly. That girl was so misguided, despite her potential for good. She’d hoped that she had found an ally in Kennedy, but she’d given up on that hope when the girl had shaken hands with Adalberto before leaving for town. Shaken hands with the Devil.


Hearing the buzzer she rushed to the front door. She had to play hostess to her Master’s guests… and maybe help save all of them.



~~~~~ Earlier that morning



Much though they all wanted to keep the world outside and remain lost in one another, all three knew they had a few last details to discuss.


“We have to make sure the Immortal doesn’t find out about the claim,” Buffy mused. “He may realize what it means if he does, and then poof goes the deal!”


“I think if he doesn’t know by now, there’s no reason to worry.” William was sitting at the edge of the bed, waiting for Spike to give him a cigarette.


“Oh come on. Do you have to take that up again?” Buffy scrunched her nose. “It was the only part of you I didn’t miss.”


Spike arched an eyebrow, making a show of bringing his own cigarette to his lips, and smirking around it when Buffy’s eyes followed the motion entranced.


“Stop with the distractions, already!” Pulling the sheets higher, she sat up. “We all get there, convince the other Buffy to let you help and me and William are zapped back here.”


William nodded. “Try to save demon girl too, while you’re there?” Buffy pinched his ass, and he squealed indignantly. “What? You like her, too. He knows how it all plays out, no reason to let the same fuck ups happen!”


Shrugging noncommittally, the Slayer said, “I hope my other self is less stubborn than me.”


Both vampires snorted.


In a hurry to avoid Slayer-wrath, Spike asked, “What about when you get back here? Half an hour there could be months for as much as we know.”


Buffy shook her head. “Adalberto said time moves faster there, so no fear of that. What I’m worried about is where we’ll come back to.”


*You think he’ll pull a fast one?* William was so shocked he hadn’t thought of that, he forgot to ask aloud.


Lost in thought, Buffy didn’t realize the question was in her head. “No. I really don’t know. He might do anything.”


Spike looked from one to the other, eyes narrowed. “Did I miss somethin’?”


He was fine with it, once they explained. He really was. Sure, it was a cool thing that he and his own Buffy would most probably never share, but that should be the last of his concerns. After all, their telepathy might be what ultimately saved their lives. Spike wasn’t self centred enough to believe Buffy’s and William’s trouble would end once he was returned to his universe. He just hoped they proved mightier than the powers that would try to tear them apart.






Tbc.

Chapter 18



Spike couldn’t stop pacing. He was so close to being back where he belonged, so close to leaving behind the only two people who ever really showed him how it was to be loved, and the Immortal was prolonging his agony.


“Bloody hell! Will you sit down already?” William was sure he’d be seasick if it weren’t for his vampire constitution.


“Yes, Spike, do sit down.” Adalberto’s distaste couldn’t be hidden by his cultured manners. “You will all be on your merry way as soon as we are clear on a few matters.”


The younger vampire just shook his head and continued going up and down the length of the living room.


“Spike. Sit.” Buffy had had enough, and didn’t even get to fully enjoy the fact that Spike sat on the floor the moment she barked her command. “You—” she turned to the Immortal, “On with it.”


“All I need is for you to agree in front of your lovers to be mine for a year after your return.” The look on his face was that of the cat that swallowed the canary.


Buffy wanted clarification for clarification’s sake. “You won’t try to use me as a weapon?”


“I swear I shall not.” The temptation to rub the vampires’ faces in his victory was overwhelming, so he went on. “I shall, however, use you in every other possible way, and you will not deny me anything that is not related to your Slayer abilities.”


Low growls answered him, but Buffy’s voice sounded loud and clear over them. “What command I—solely—have of myself I’ll give to you upon my return.” She could hardly contain a cheeky grin as she added, “Pinky swear.”


If the Immortal wasn’t a self important bastard, he would have realized her carefully worded promise meant nothing. He was one, however, so with a satisfied smile he murmured something under his breath and all three blonds disappeared from his living room in a flash of light.


Sofia, standing behind him, didn’t even flinch in her effort to hide her thoughts. “I am sure my Master has reason to celebrate tonight. Should I go to town and get provisions for your favourite meals?”



~~~~~*~~~~~



Buffy was dizzy, her stomach upset with the sensation of suddenly lifting off then being hurled forward, only to reach a screeching halt. Trying to clear her head by shaking it only felt like her brain was dislodged and rolling around her skull, so she remained still, huddled in the foetal position, until the world around her stopped spinning.


It might have been a moment or a century—she hoped for the first with all her heart—before she could open her eyes and take in her surroundings. She was on a dirt floor, in a dark place. A place that felt and smelt like a tomb. William was bending down to help her up when she realized the exact point in time and space they were at. “Oh, no. Spike, don’t…”


It was too late to tell him not to look beyond the pillar he stood behind. Too late to save him the heartache.


“I see some things never change,” was his simple statement, as he looked down at the other Buffy and Angel kissing.


Some things obviously did, however.


William and Buffy were on Spike’s side in time to see the other Slayer push Angel so hard, the tall, broody vampire flew backwards and landed on his ass, unmoving.


“I’ve told you, we’re over. God!”


William—not Spike—was the one who couldn’t help himself and cheered.


Other-Buffy, that was how Buffy had secretly named her, looked up, her face immediately becoming a mask of hate. “You can now appear as three people?” she asked. “Great choices.”


Spike immediately caught up to what she thought was happening. “We’re not The First, luv,” he yelled, taking no step closer. He was grinning from ear to ear at how she’d responded to his Sire’s affections, but knew he was far from being in her good graces.


“Right.”


Her voice sounded at once resigned and determined. An odd mixture that sent an arrow of pain through Buffy’s heart. She knew what her other self was feeling. Nothing. She felt empty, because she hadn’t had Spike to take the brunt of her hate for herself. A lone tear made its way down her cheek at other-Buffy’s next words.


“So you’re not here to scold me for losing both Spike and myself?” She snorted. “Although two of him may be a bit much…”


William had been silent since voicing his approval over the Slayer that wasn’t his own rendering Angel unconscious, but felt he had to say something now. “Priest is alive. Finish him off and we’ll talk.”


Slayer instincts were still strong inside her. She span on her heel just as Caleb was getting back on his feet, and with a scoop motion grabbed the Scythe and ran it through him, effectively splitting him in half.


“Can we come down now or will we meet his end?” Spike asked, his entire being longing to run to her and take her in his arms.


“Still not convinced you’re not The First,” other-Buffy said. “Not that you could hurt me if you were.”


“Here’s a good will gesture, then,” William offered and punched Spike in the nose. “He wouldn’t bleed if he were The First, right?”


“Oi, you wanker!”


Buffy silenced her lover and looked at her alternate universe version. “Convinced?”


Other-Buffy shrugged. “Keep a safe distance.”


The three approached reluctantly, scared by the indifference in other-Buffy’s eyes more than by the instrument of death in her hands. Each was trying to measure her, see the damage done to her by not having Spike around. Nothing was more telling of that damage than the empty look in her eyes.


Buffy almost reached out but thought better of it. Time was running short, and they were there for a reason. Her lovers had agreed to let her do the talking, so she tried to start somewhere. “We’re from the future.” She corrected herself. “Well, William and I are from the future. Spike—” she pointed at the younger vampire. “Spike is your Spike. A spell pulled him from—”


“I would never have left you of my own free will, Kitten. Never,” Spike chimed in pleadingly. He thought he saw a little chink in her armour at that, a spark that showed his Buffy was alive in that shell of a Slayer in front of him. “I love you, Buffy. That could never change.” His declaration of love had the opposite effect than what he expected, as her expression turned stony again.


“He really wouldn’t,” Buffy reassured her.


Other-Buffy completely ignored her. “I can believe you’re really you.” She indicated the two vampires. “I can feel the tinglies. I can even believe you’re from the future, cuz hey! Nothing makes much sense in Slayer life, why should this? What I can’t believe is that you come here one day before the Apocalypse to… what? Tell me Spike loves me?” She turned to him. “I don’t need this, Spike. I don’t need to hear about your pathetic feelings.”


“Can you not be such a bitch?” William snarled. “We’re here to save you, so give us a bloody break!”


She snapped. “You come here all Marty McFly, to tell me what to do? I know what to do, vampire.”


Buffy squeezed her mate’s hand, sending him calming thoughts. “Please hear me out. We don’t have time.” Taking the curt nod her younger self gave her as an indication she should go on, she did just that. “Angel has an amulet with him, one that’s supposed to be worn by someone more than human, but with a soul. In my time-line William did that.”


Other-Buffy frowned in confusion.


Tightening her grip on her mate’s hand once more, Buffy explained. “William did something bad, a bit after when you last saw Spike. Something he felt he had to atone for. He went to Africa and went through some horrible tests to get his soul back. For me.” Her voice broke and William let go of her hand to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “He—he burned in the Apocalypse, and his soul got trapped in the amulet. The thingy ended up in LA, Angel’s firm, and Spike stayed there and faced another Apocalypse, one only he survived. I didn’t know he was alive after Sunnydale, I felt lost. I made a wish…” She looked at the other blonde apologetically. “I didn’t mean to end up with two, to take him from you. I just realized I needed him. I loved him.” Locking eyes with other-Buffy, she added, “Like you do.”


“I couldn’t—I don’t.” Other-Buffy’s voice was steely, but her lower lip trembled perceptibly.


“You do, but you won’t find out until it’s too late.” Buffy looked down, taking a deep breath. “That’s not why we’re here. We can’t convince you to see something you don’t want to. Just… don’t let Angel wear the amulet. It won’t let him be there for the LA hell-invasion. You wear it.”


“Me?” An eyebrow arched, and Spike saw the eyes he loved look at him with contempt. “Guess my version couldn’t get a soul, huh?”


It wasn’t fair. He’d been through all that shit and she would never see him as the man he was. He envied William the happiness he had. “Got somethin’ else, but can’t wear the Elizabeth Taylor paraphernalia,” he said trying to sound flippant. “I can still help.”


“I don’t need your help. I don’t need you, and I could never love you, Spike. Now if you want a round of the nasty before tomorrow’s fight, something to take the edge off, we could figure something out.” The words dripped malice, but all three knew where she was coming from.


“Don’t turn into Faith,” Buffy advised. “Even Faith isn’t Faith anymore. She’s about to be a mother where I’m from, and where are you?”


William interjected. “The reason I never could beat you—her—is that you’re more than just the Slayer. It was always the human part of you, the one with family and friends, that never let me take the upper hand. You were always fighting for something much more concrete than the general welfare. I’m sorry you’ve lost that.”


If looks could kill, other-Buffy’s glare would be driving a stake right through William’s heart. “Don’t you dare be sorry for me. I don’t need your pity.”


“You need somethin’ to remind you of who you are, luv. Somethin’ to care about, and someone to care about you,” Spike said softly.


“When you don’t care you don’t get hurt,” she mumbled before adding in a louder tone, “You left me,” she spat out. “After all you said, it was only sex to you. I told you you couldn’t fuck me any more and you left me!”


“Not because I wanted to, you silly bint.” He felt exasperated; the fear he wouldn’t get through to her slowly turning into reality. “It was never just sex for me. I just wanted to give you what you needed.”


Seeing things about to escalate to something entirely counterproductive, Buffy asked for a couple of minutes alone with the younger version of her. It was evident neither vampire was particularly happy about that, but Angel started stirring, and the two hightailed it out of the tomb before they had to waste time dealing with his accusations.


The moment Spike and William left, Buffy turned to other-Buffy and demanded, “You have to admit Spike was the best sex you ever had.”


Taken aback, the other blonde started saying something about how that was completely irrelevant to whether he could be trusted, but Buffy cut in.


“He can be so much more if you just let him.” She sighed at the stubborn look she received, knowing full well she’d driven several people mad with that stubbornness. “Listen, you’re going to win tomorrow’s fight, partly because of Spike. In my reality, it was almost wholly because of him. After that, however, you’ll have to face life, Buffy.” Calling her with her own name was hard, but she needed to reach the little frightened girl inside. “Everyone else, everyone you know and love, will get on with their lives. They’ll fall in love, have families… Where will you be?” She silenced an objection the other was about to make, by raising her hand. “Let me finish. You want to be normal, but your normal—my normal—isn’t the same as that of others. How can you ever be satisfied by someone whom you’ll have to try not to hurt in bed? What man will like being with a woman who’ll have to protect him? Spike’s your equal, can’t you see?”


“I can’t deal with this. I have a fight to get ready for.” The other blonde turned towards Angel who was sitting up and blinking slowly in an effort to make sense of what he was seeing. “Gimme the thingy,” she ordered.


Stomping her foot, Buffy called out, “There will be fights every day, but your life will be passing you by in the meantime. Open your heart to Spike, trust him. Let him show you what love is about. I know I will never regret being mated to William.” She hadn’t mean to blurt out the last part, but as other-Buffy’s head snapped to her direction and Angel cried out she was nuts, Buffy felt the tugging sensation in the pit of her stomach and disappeared in front of their disbelieving eyes.


Spike strolled into the tomb moments later, and other-Buffy had to threaten to knock Angel out again to keep the darker vampire from lunging at him. “Will you chill and give me what you came to give me?” she asked. “And make it fast. You’re not the only vampire I plan to get rid of tonight.”


Brooding, Angel kept on the silent treatment while handing her the amulet and dragging his feet away. When he was at the entrance of the tomb, he said, “You can’t trust him, Buffy.”


Turning to Spike, she replied, “I know.” She sounded sad, her older self’s words having penetrated her walls, despite appearances. She didn’t want to carry the weight of her Calling alone—didn’t want to live her life alone—but she had to. She could trust nobody but herself, least of all Spike.


Still, it was hard not to feel her resolve waver when he leered and said, “Well, too bad, Slayer. See, you’re stuck with me!”


She sidestepped him on her way out, but could feel his proximity as he followed her.


“Stayed in your basement last time around. There was cuddlin’ involved.”


“Go away, Spike.”


“Never again.”


His promise made her smile despite herself. “Basement. No cuddling. Any funny business with the Slayerettes and you’re dust.”



~~~~~*~~~~~


The jet-lag didn’t last as long this time, mostly because of the feel of cool stone against her back and cool metal around her wrists.


Buffy opened her eyes to darkness. She tried moving, but her wrists and ankles were shackled.


“William!” she called out as loud as she could, but the only sound that came back to her was the echo of her own voice.


*Where the fuck are you?*




Tbc.

Chapter 19



Sofia kept looking over her shoulder as she made her way to the Mansion. She didn’t expect anyone to follow her—there was too much going on for Adalberto to have his mind on her—but one could never be too sure.


Reaching the gates, she paused to cross herself and pray it wasn’t Kennedy who answered. Then, with a deep breath, she rang the bell and waited.


“Welcome to our casa,” a male voice replied. “Please state your name and business, oh traveller of the evening.”


Rolling her eyes, Sofia whispered, “This is a matter of grave importance. I need to speak to your Wiccan. May I enter?”


There was a pause, then some whispers, and a young woman called out, “What is this about, can I tell her?”


It was Kennedy. Sofia thanked God that she was carrying a basket with her purchases from the market, and that her attire and hair looked nothing like when the young Slayer had last seen her. “I am Maria,” she lied. “I sell potions.” She raised the basket. “Your Wiccan said to meet her here.” She carefully kept her face away from the door-phone, where she assumed a camera might be hidden.


“I’ll be right down,” a third voice called, and Sofia moved to the shadows, to wait for whom she hoped would be an ally.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Willow knew she hadn’t told anyone to meet her, so if the woman at the gate was an enemy, she’d rather keep her outside the house. That way, if something happened to her, the wards would keep the threat away from the rest.


At first sight, the woman didn’t look like a threat. If anything, she looked like a Goddess. Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail that took nothing away from its lustre. Her skin had the colour of blond caramel, and her body was slender, something her baggy clothes couldn’t hide.


“I’m Willow,” she held out her hand with a smile. “Their Wiccan.”


“I am Sofia,” the other replied. “And I am here to help you save your friends.”


Smiley-flirty feeling instantly replaced by caution, Willow narrowed her eyes. “None of my friends are in danger.”


Sofia shook her head gravely. “I am afraid you are wrong, Willow.” The name sounded exotic coming from her lips. “They are in grave danger and… so am I.”


If it had been Xander the woman had asked for, Willow would have been certain Sofia was a demon. Since damsels in distress with killer secrets rarely asked for her, however, she decided to hear her out. “Why don’t we go-”


“We cannot go to your house. He has an ally here.” Seeing the redhead’s confused look, Sofia explained, “The Immortal.”


Afraid she was walking into a trap, Willow still followed the woman along the side of the Mansion. She couldn’t contain a sigh of relief when the woman pushed herself up the fence at its lowest point and patted the stone next to her. “This is a safe enough distance from Kennedy’s ears,” the brunette said.


As it turned out, that wasn’t the only part of their talk to make Willow’s jaw drop.


“Kennedy is…”


“The traitor, yes.” Sofia nodded solemnly.


“I don’t—I can’t believe that.” Still standing in front of the young woman, Willow shook a finger in accusation. “You’re lying! The wards of the house-”


“What is this place guarded against?” The other woman’s voice was soft.


“Ill intent.” The Wiccan raised an eyebrow in silent challenge, compelling Sofia to elaborate.


“She has no ill intent against anyone in these premises, unless Buffy and the vampires live here.”


Deflated, Willow leaned against the fence. “What did she do?”


“It is not just her. This is so much more, and I am afraid I have to start from the beginning.”



~~~~~*~~~~~



Willow had known the Immortal was an evil son of a bitch since Buffy had started dating him, but at that time she had harboured the romantic notion that he’d be good for the love of her best friend. Like Spike had.


Hearing what he’d done to Sofia’s family, brought tears to the redhead’s eyes. “But why?” Her mind was unable to wrap around the notion of anyone being evil for the sake of it. Sure, vampires and other demons were evil too, but that kind of came with the territory of humans being their means of sustenance. What the Immortal did made no sense to her. “Why would he…?” The answer to her unfinished question was closer to her thoughts than she’d expected.


“Adalberto feeds on despair.” Sofia waited for that first bit of information to sink in, before she continued, “The despair of normal people is enough to keep him alive, but just barely. What he needs is the despair of stronger beings.”


“Slayers?” Willow asked meekly.


The brunette nodded. “And vampires. Other demons will not do, as they have no humanity.” Taking a deep breath, she went on. “He has already fed from your Spike and his Sire on two occasions.”


The Wiccan’s mind was reeling.


“The more he feeds, the stronger he gets, but he loses control of his own self. He reverts to his original appearance...” The pause this time gave Willow the time to fill in the blank.


“That’s the state he can be killed in!”


“Exactly. And here is where my family’s women come into play. When there is a natural disaster, a famine, or a war, he makes a point of being there. He is like a… a battery, stocking up with energy. When the energy levels are too high, he cannot regain his human form for several months.”


Connecting the dots, the redhead asked, “Was he in the LA apocalypse?”


“Si. And then remained locked in the crypts under the castle, where only I was allowed to visit.”


“He needs someone under his thumb to take care of him while he regains control,” Willow exclaimed, feeling the same light-headedness she used to have in high school when she solved a particularly hard mathematics problem.


The young woman just nodded this time.


“And if you don’t help him, your soul goes poof?”


Another nod.


“I—I hate to ask this, but why put yourself at risk by helping us? If he finds out-” The redhead dragged her index finger along her throat.


“I have no one to redeem my soul. Once Adalberto is done with me, there is no woman of my line to take my place. He has already approached your Kennedy and has Buffy. I know one of them will be the first of the new line to serve him.” Her voice was soft, as if she wasn’t talking about her own demise. “The Slayer’s blood in my veins has been diluted after all these generations, and I cannot function as an adequate… snack when he needs it.”


“That’s… Oh, that’s horrible, Sofia.” Willow awkwardly enveloped the other woman in a half-hug. Realization suddenly dawning, her voice was shrill with alarm when she asked, “What do you mean he has Buffy?”



~~~~~*~~~~~


*Buffy? Where the fuck are you?* William asked again in her head, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. William was alive—or rather, undead. He would find her.


*Somewhere dark, dank, and really uncomfortable,* she replied. Relief that he was still in one piece was making her giddy, something really at odds with her situation. *I’m chained to a wall, you?*


*At the graveyard. Landed in a quite lovely patch of sun and barely made it to the nearest crypt. I‘m just slightly singed, nothin’ that can’t be fixed with a pint of blood. Are you all right?*


She sent him thoughts of being cold. And naked. The mental growl that answered her left no questions as to what William felt like doing. Still, he clarified, *I’m goin’ to rip his head off!*



~~~~~*~~~~~



“I have to get to Buffy.” Willow was wringing her hands and pacing along the length of the fence. “If he separated her from William, she must feel desper—oh Goddess, that will only make him stronger!” She turned to look at Sofia. “Why didn’t you come sooner? Why wait until now?” She was barely able to contain the urge to grab the other woman and shake her hard. “He has her now. We have to go get her.”


“I can’t help you fight him, Willow.” The sorrow in Sofia’s eyes was heartbreaking. “I can do no more than tell you where I think he has her. If I go up against him he will damn me to hell.”


The redhead nodded, temporarily pacified. “Tell me where he has her. I’ll get some Slayerettes, and—”


The brunette jumped down from the fence and took hold of her shoulders. “You cannot take Slayerettes with you.”


Again, Willow thought all this could be a trap. Squinting up at Sofia, she asked, “You expect me to go in there without backup?”


“I do not expect you to go anywhere. Find the vampire and tell him where she is, but do not tell any of the other Slayers about it.”


The redhead’s foot was tapping the ground impatiently. Shaking off Sofia’s hands, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Why?”


“Kennedy’s part in all this is to convince them Buffy is no longer worthy of her Calling. That she is sleeping with demons, including the Immortal. If she has managed to convince even a few…” She let her voice trail off, allowing Willow to imagine the repercussions.


“Goddess… they’ll turn on Buffy.” Rubbing her temples, Willow asked, “Where do you think she is? And do you know what he did with William?”


“William is supposed to be killed by Slayers. Adalberto feared if he killed him he might turn him into a martyr. I do not know where he is.” She reached out for Willow’s shoulder again, relieved when the Wiccan didn’t pull back. “I think Buffy is beneath the castle, in the catacombs.”



~~~~~*~~~~~



*Right. Crypt here has access to the sewers. I’ll try to get back to the Mansion, or maybe straight to you.* He felt completely useless and it was killing him. Another man had his mate imprisoned, and—even though Buffy seemed rather upbeat, all things considered—William felt about to completely lose it. For the first time in decades he fully regretted being a vampire. If he could handle the sun he could help her.


*Don’t be silly. If you weren’t a vampire we’d never have met. I’d have died a long time ago.* She believed that with all her heart.


Her trust, her love, made him feel like even more of a disappointment. With a roar, he shoved aside the lid of the stony grave on the ground floor and rummaged through the remains of its inhabitant. Finding nothing, he toppled the thing over and ripped off the lining of the coffin. Not the most protective of materials, but it was still in decent enough shape. *Baby?*


*I’m here.* Not that she could go anywhere. She’d tried the chains numerous times already, had scraped her back and butt against the stone wall trying to break free, but other than made of steel, they were obviously hexed, because they stubbornly refused to budge even a fraction of an inch. They were loose enough for her arms to dangle at her sides, or for her to sit with her arms raised, but that was all.


*Keep sending me thoughts. I’ll come to you.*


*Through the sewers?* They’d better not leave that place the same way unless she somehow found her clothes in the meantime.


*Screw the sewers.* Grumbling something about the good old days, William wrapped the cloth around him and burst out into the late afternoon sun, grateful that sunset was not far off.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Adalberto knew there would be some time before the begging commenced—before Buffy was desperate enough to feed him—but he had hoped for some screaming, at least.


He’d done his best to make her return to their universe dramatic for her. Being naked and imprisoned, in the dark, without any sound but that of her own pleas was supposed to help him break her. She was meant to at first be furious and yell her lungs out, threatening those responsible with bodily harm. After some time had gone by, her throat raw from all the screaming, she’d realize that wouldn’t work, and she’d start bargaining. She’d be all reasonable, offering things to her captor for a while before she started calling out for help. Then she’d cry. She’d finally come to lose all hope and break down.


That was when he’d go to her. He’d tell her she was right, nobody would come for her. She was to be his for a year, and he did not see fit for her to be unrestrained or clothed during that period. When he’d have gotten every last ounce of despair out of her, he’d let her down from her restraints and take her in the most degrading ways.


The next day he’d inform her of his plans for William.


He’d break that Slayer bit by bit, until she was nothing but an empty shell. Then she’d pledge her soul to him willingly.


She’d get to that, he promised himself. It might take a while—she was obviously more resilient than he’d imagined, since it had been more than an hour and she still seemed composed—but in the end she’d be his.


Turning away from the monitor on which he had been watching Buffy’s calm efforts at breaking her restraints through an ultraviolet camera, he called for Sofia. The butler informed him she hadn’t returned from the town and Adalberto grimaced. Sofia had taken longer to break too, even though he already had her soul pledged to him, but that would come to an end soon. The next couple of years would be much different for her than what she’d been used to.



~~~~~*~~~~~



The sun was finally setting, painting the horizon with shades of purple that would have made William write poetry any other day. That was the last thing on his mind, however, as he climbed the outer wall of the Immortal’s castle. A fierce grin graced his lips. William the Bloody was back.


Adalberto’s smile was just as fierce as he watched him on the security camera. His plan had been to keep the Slayer and her vampire apart, until William’s demise at Kennedy’s hands, but this presented him with an opportunity.


It seemed he might feed for longer than he’d hoped.





Tbc.

“I have to get to Buffy.” Willow was wringing her hands and pacing along the length of the fence. “If he separated her from William, she must feel desper—oh Goddess, that will only make him stronger!”


~~~~~*~~~~~


The sun was finally setting, painting the horizon with shades of purple that would have made William write poetry any other day. That was the last thing on his mind, however, as he climbed the outer wall of the Immortal’s castle. A fierce grin graced his lips. William the Bloody was back.

Adalberto’s smile was just as fierce as he watched him on the security camera. His plan had been to keep the Slayer and her vampire apart, until William’s demise at Kennedy’s hands, but this presented him with an opportunity.

It seemed he might feed for longer than he’d hoped.




Chapter 20



“Goddess, come on, Buffy. Come on, come on, come on…” Willow’s eyes were shut as she kept alternating between chanting the words of the telepathy spell and pleading with her best friend to hear her, wherever she was.


It had to work, had to, because there was no other option. She had to tell the others, of course, but they would require explanations, and she knew she didn’t have time for that. Not until she’d warned Buffy.


“Come on,” she half growled, and this time she felt a hint of a response, like the blink of an eye, like drawing air for a yawn. “Buffy? Can you hear me?”


Just as she was getting ready to send another, stronger, blast with her mind, the door to her room flew open, and Kennedy burst in.


“What are you doing there?” The Slayer’s face was distorted with rage, and Willow had no doubt that her ex-lover had heard her chanting.


Ignoring her, she tried again, calling for Buffy both in her mind, and with actual words.


Kennedy closed the space between them, using her fingers to put out a few of the scented candles surrounding the redhead. “Stop it, now.” Her voice was high pitched; that of a spoiled brat who didn’t like to share her toys.


Willow didn’t have time for that crap. It was bad enough that the brunette was messing with her focus. And those candles might not have been necessary for her to find Buffy, but they smelled darned good. “Get out of here, Ken,” she said in a low voice.


A smarter person would have recognized that voice for what it was; the calm before the storm. Kennedy, however, had proven time and time again in those last few days that she wasn’t as smart as she believed herself to be. Grabbing Willow’s arm, she yelled, “Stop. That bitch will get what’s coming to her.”


The bitch who got what was coming to her wasn’t Buffy.


Without a word, Willow just raised her right hand, fingers splayed, and Kennedy was flown across the room and into the screen with the little china dolls—that she’d insisted on collecting and Willow had always found creepy.


Proving her lack of brains once more, the Slayer grabbed a shard of glass—bloodying her hand—and walked back to the Wiccan, menacingly. “Don’t make me hurt you, Willow.”


The redhead arched an eyebrow questioningly. “You can’t hurt me, Ken,” she said sadly. “No more than you have already.” With that, she muttered a few words that made it impossible for the other woman to come within three feet of her, then returned to her task.


Kennedy was lividly trying to reach her, uselessly banging against an invisible barrier, when Dawn rushed in, drawn by the sound of the glass breaking. Seeing the opportunity for what it was, Kennedy grabbed the younger woman, pinning her arms against her torso, and held the sharp glass edge against her throat. “Dawnie here will be in deep shit if you don’t leave matters alone,” she barked at Willow, an ugly sneer on her face.


Wiccan and Key saw the next few moments unfold as if in slow motion. Neither could tell exactly what happened, even though they both had their suspicions.


Willow saw a line of blood mar Dawn’s neck where the shard was digging into it, and a drop fall on Ken’s hand.


Dawn thought she saw Willow’s eyes flash black for just a second.


Kennedy started screaming—an inhuman sound—and… deflating. Literally. It looked like she had no bones, as her body became slimmer and slimmer, until it was no more than a line.


Dawn thought it looked like she was being sucked into something through a tiny little opening.


Willow wondered how Kennedy could make all that noise if her lungs had flattened.


Then Kennedy was no more. She disappeared, leaving behind an echo of her anguish that soon faded, too.


Dawn looked at Willow, who was trembling. “What just happened?”


The redhead shook her head. “I—I don’t know.” Seeing the girl she’d come to view as a younger sister cover her throat with a not-so-steady hand, she asked, “Are you ok?”


Nodding, Dawn said, “Just a scratch.” It was odd how she felt no sadness at the thought of never seeing Kennedy again, odder still that Willow seemed fine with it. “Are you?”


“I am, but Buffy isn’t.” She sighed. She’d have to explain things to other people after all. “Short version, she’s been kidnapped by the Immortal and I have to tell her what I found out about him. There may be no time for us to go get her.”


She sighed again, this time in relief, when all Dawn asked was, “How can I help?”



~~~~~*~~~~~



William was getting really close to losing it. Buffy’s voice in his head had become weaker since he’d gotten into the bloody building, and was now completely silent. He’d thought he’d heard her yelp when he was jumping down the outer wall, but she’d said she’d just scraped her thigh somewhere, and things had only gone downhill from there. If it weren’t for feeling her heartbeat in his chest—something he’d realized he could do, if he concentrated on blocking out all other sound, he’d think she was lost to him.


She couldn’t be lost to him. *I’m coming, Kitten* he sent out to her, not knowing if she could hear him. *Just a couple of turns up ahead.* Finding the entrance to the catacombs had been easy, he’d noticed the ground being more stepped on, the flowers just a bit more spaced near one wall, but making his way through them was not exactly a piece of cake without Buffy calling out to him.


*William?* Her voice made him jump, then sigh with relief.


*You’re ok.* Yes, he was stating the obvious, but he didn’t mind.


*I think he drugged me. From a distance. An arrow or something.* She sounded tired. *I think I was supposed to still be out of it. And he’s here.* He felt her tense at something the bastard said or did, but she wouldn’t let him see what.


A faint light shone to his right, and he could detect her unique, Buffy, scent coming from that direction. *Found you.*


The moment he rounded that bend in the path, he froze.


Buffy was indeed entirely naked, suspended from the wall, and the Immortal was a bit to the side, facing her, and cupping one of her breasts. There was something in his free hand, that glinted, but William ignored it. All he could see was someone touching his mate, and that someone had to die. Roaring, he made to run closer, but Adalberto’s voice stopped him on his tracks.


“Come closer, vampire, and I will cut her. No Slayer-healing is a bad thing, yes?” He chuckled like what he’d just said was funny. “Humans break so easily,” he added, lisping his Ss. They bleed easily, too.” With that, he pressed the tip of the knife William could now see he was holding, under Buffy’s right breast, just enough for some blood to well up.


“Let her go,” William growled, taking in the other’s face as he turned to him. The Immortal’s eyes were sunken, and it looked like there was only skin covering his skull. Paper-thin skin. “Now.”


The Immortal dragged the flat side of the knife down Buffy’s stomach. “Or what?” It was unsettling hearing the sturdy voice come out of something that looked dead for centuries, and that was a person of the undead persuasion being unsettled.


The vampire could feel the effort his Slayer put up to not flinch away from his touch or the cold metal. “You won’t kill her,” he said, sounding more certain than he felt.


“Are you willing to risk that?” the pillock’s voice boomed. “I will regret not having her. I would love to hear her scream. Then again, I could make her scream now.” The knife reached the apex of Buffy’s thighs, and William took a step forward, before a shake of Adalberto’s head stopped him. “She’s drugged and I have injected her with the potion the Council used. She won’t put up much of a fight as I take her,” the Immortal went on. “You will be dead by then, of course.”


William felt a profound sense of despair twist his insides in a knot. He needed to take Buffy away from there, but he could sense only fear coming from her. She was convinced the Immortal would act on his threat and her mind was racing, grasping at straws as she tried to figure out a way to save him. Trying to buy them both some time, in hope their bond would help her fight the potion off like it’d obviously done with the sedative, he asked, “How are you planning on doing that?”


“Oh, I am not the one who will do it. I was planning on having someone help me, but you walking out into the sunlight will do.”


“The morning is a long time from now,” William mused.


Adalberto grinned. “I can wait. And Buffy will watch you do it, because that will be the only way for her to live.” He scraped her left thigh with the blade, fresh blood tickling William’s nostrils.


A new wave of despair hit him, coming from his mate. *If you die, I die,* came her thoughts. *We will find a way around it,* he thought back to her, knowing she knew he couldn’t guarantee that. More than ten feet separated him from where Buffy and the Immortal stood, and there was no way he could close that distance before the bastard nicked an artery.


*No, we wont.* She sounded resigned, and he thought he’d rather die than hear her like that again.


Then something weird happened. It was like someone cut into their connection, filling his head with static. His panic levels rose dramatically. Talking to her that way had been the only thing keeping him sane, but now he couldn’t even feel her heartbeat, even though he could see her chest rise and fall with it. Sure, he could see her, but something had severed their bond. Maybe what Adalberto had injected her with had done that. “Buffy,” he cried out, making the Immortal look to her for a second to see the reason for his distress.


There was no reply.


“Kill me,” he told the ancient being. If the Immortal distanced himself from Buffy, maybe there was something he could do. Still, there was a little part of him that insisted that if their bond was severed, there was no hope for either of them.


Adalberto looked from one blond to the other, his shark-like grin splitting his face in two. He could feel his strength increasing by the second. Just for the fun of it, he carved a line on the weakened Slayer’s stomach.



~~~~~*~~~~~



Willow felt Buffy’s worry flood her, clogging her throat, and making her eyes water, as soon as their connection was established. “Buffy? Buffy, it’s me.” She didn’t know why she spoke aloud, but it made Dawn bounce, so she decided to keep it up.


*Willow? How—*


“Never mind that. I can help you.”


*Are you close? Are you coming?*


Feeling guilt for squashing the glimmer of hope in her friend’s thoughts, the redhead said, “No. But I know how to kill him.”


It was like she saw the blonde’s shoulders sag when the next thought came. *I know that too, but he’s got a knife, and I’m weak. Cruciamentum-weak.* And after a second, *There’s little hope, Wills. Take care of Dawnie and Xan, if something happens.*


“No, Buffy, don’t say there’s no—don’t feel there’s no hope. That’s what makes him strong.” Sensing her friend’s confusion, she explained, “He feeds on negative emotions. Stay calm, happy, and you’ll manage to—”


*Willow, I’m chained!* Buffy’s mind-voice sounded irritated, which was definitely better than desperate. *And he’s cutting me.*


It was Eureka time again. “What are the chains made of?”



~~~~~*~~~~~



Opening her eyes, Buffy gave William the sweetest smile he’d ever seen, before turning to Adalberto. “Yes, kill him.”


Both men gaped at her, before William tried to touch at her thoughts again. *Can you hear me? Thank God.*


*I can, and I know how to get us out of here. All you have to do is believe it.*


Thinking, *This isn’t Neverland,* he shook his head ruefully, and received a mental slap for his transgression.


*He feeds off your pain and despair. All bad feelings,* she sent him, before turning to Adalberto again. “Kill him,” she said again. “If you can.”


The Immortal sneered, or it seemed like a sneer, but she couldn’t be sure, with his lips missing from the mummified face. “Oh, I can.”


“Show me,” she challenged, biting back a disgusted sound as she forced herself to smile seductively. “Without this.”


It seemed that no matter how ancient, males were always driven by their ego. “I will show you,” he promised, giving her a glimpse of a black, snake-like tongue when he said the letter L.


The moment he let his knife drop to the ground, Buffy looped the steel chain that constrained one of her arms around his neck. “Show me how you die.”


He tried to shake her off, but she managed to lock a leg around his shin, too. “William,” she called her vampire. “Now would be a good time. And think happy thoughts.”


He did just as she commanded, but a kick to the groin stalled him just long enough for Adalberto to lean back with all his force, banging Buffy against the wall with a crack that made William’s heart constrict.


Her body went limp instantly, her weight having the opposite effect than what the Immortal had hoped for, as it held the chains taut around his neck. He tried to break free, William’s new loss of hope strengthening him, but he’d had those chains made to be Slayer-strength-resistant and they were worth their money. His only hope was to get his knife, and that was what he tried to do, the metal noose keeping it just out of his reach.


Folded in half, William had managed to do nothing but cry out Buffy’s name ever since she’d passed out, barely aware that he was wasting his only chance to save them both, over the mind-numbing pain. He had forgotten all about how his feeling hopeless was feeding his enemy, and wasn’t even registering said enemy going for his knife.


Until he heard Buffy whisper, “Cuddles, and sex, and… blowjobs. Get him.”


An all consuming sense of glee surged through him as he leaped in front of the Immortal, kicked the knife further out of his reach, and grasped both ends of the chain. “Game over, asshole.” Pulling for all he was worth, he managed to straighten the chain and send the not-so-Immortal’s head rolling to the floor, as the man’s dried up body collapsed. Neither blond noticed the thin, slightly glowing mist that left his remains.


Buffy raised her head and snorted. “The immortal. Pfft.” She rolled her eyes, wincing at the pain that sent jolts through her skull. “I’ll start calling myself The Supermodel. See if it takes.” William’s laughter, just this side of hysterics, made her pout. “What? People obviously name themselves whatever they feel like.”


He had knelt down to search through Adalberto’s pockets for the keys to her shackles, and was holding said keys firmly, as he rose to his feet to give her a kiss. “Let’s get you out of here.”



~~~~~~*~~~~~~



By the time Sofia entered the catacombs, no living or undead being was there. She took the opportunity to give the withered body of her one-time Master a hard kick, and rushed to where she knew he’d kept the last of his captured souls. Hers.


The piece of wall gave way easily, revealing what was hidden behind it. It only took a hard twist, and the vial was open.


And for the first time since she was sixteen, she was free.




Tbc.

Chapter 21



~~~~A few days earlier, in a cave…


“The one who walks this realm as William has the soul he gained. You cannot share that or have another.”


If his fists weren’t already a bloody mess, Spike would have used them on the walls of the cave to let out even a little of the frustration he felt suffocating him. He could be of no use to Buffy—to either Buffy—unless he was whole again.


Or maybe…


“Seein’ as you failed to divulge that little bit of information when you promised anythin’ I desired, mate, I’d say you owe me one.”


The demon looked at him unblinkingly. “What do you want, vampire?”


“I want somethin’ taken out, and somethin’ put in,” Spike said pointing at the back of his head. “Can you do that?”


The enormous beast growled, smashing a meaty fist against one of the cave walls and making the rocks around them tremble. “I can do anything.”


“Hardly,” Spike snorted. Weird how the taste of his own blood down his throat did nothing for his hunger. “You couldn’t do what I wanted in the first place, remember?”


The demon squinted. “It was you who couldn’t have the soul—” His voice held a warning. “Not I who couldn’t give it to you.”


Clearly he wasn’t going to win that argument. “You’re right,” he said flippantly. “Now, about our business.” Blood coated his teeth, but his smile was still brilliant. “I’ve got a silly little plastic thing in my head, and would like to have that replaced with a certain gem.”


Eyes widening, the demon returned his smile as sincerely as his inhuman face allowed. “You want the gem of Amara. But that was destroyed.”


Spike shrugged, his shoulders feeling like they locked in place. “Does it belong to someone else?”


“No.”


“In that case, you must be able to get it for me,” he replied smugly, more falling than sitting back down. “I’ll just take a nap. Wake me up when you’re done.” With that, he passed into oblivion. When he woke up, his body was completely healed. And he was outside the cave. Underneath the hot, African sun. With not even a tan to show for it. Springing upright, he let out a chuckle. “Well, ain’t that neat?”


~~~~~*~~~~~


They were all in the kitchen when Anya appeared.


Buffy was in William’s lap, and he was feeding her French toast and reading the morning paper over her shoulder. Giles was having his tea, a Sudoku puzzle balanced on his knee taking up all of his concentration. Willow was flipping pancakes, while trying hard not to let Xander stick his finger in the Nutella jar, and Dawn was… being Dawn. She was buzzing around, talking about how Andrew had called to say Faith still looked lethal even with her belly, and that he’d stay in Cleveland until she gave birth, only to end up being jealous he’d missed the whole thing the previous night.


The smoke plume growing out of nowhere in the middle of the room had them all snapping their heads toward it, but none of them went into fighting position. They had just gone through too much to bother.


Buffy rolled her eyes. “Don’t inhale until I kill this.” She’d regained her Slayer constitution and had no doubt she could slay the invader, whoever, or whatever, it was.


But maybe she wouldn’t want to.


The smoke cleared out, and there stood Anya, vengeance-demony pendant around her neck. Xander made to rush to her, eyes alight with joy, but Dawn grabbed his shirt.


“It’s The First,” sputtered Giles, furiously brushing hot tea off his shirt.


“No, I’m not.” Anya sounded indignant.


“No, she’s not.” Spike’s voice was steady. “It’s really Demon Girl.” Buffy turned questioning eyes to him, and he tapped his nose in reply.


Only then did Dawn let go of Xander’s shirt, allowing her crush to run to his former lover and envelop her in a bear hug. Her eyes didn’t leave the two for a second, not even after Xander pulled back and asked, “How?”


“I blackmailed D’Hoffryn,” she answered, obviously proud of herself. “He gave me my powers back for a day, or I’d tell his wife about something he didn’t want her to find out. I tell you, his wife is like ten vengeance dem—”


Xander couldn’t help cutting in. “No, how… You didn’t—You’re alive.”


“Oh, that,” she offered nonchalantly. “I’ll explain.”


Buffy, Spike, Giles and Willow were slowly making their way towards the kitchen door, wanting to allow Anya and Xander some time alone before the questions started raining on her. “Wait,” she called out. “Much though I appreciate you giving us some privacy, there will be no sexual interaction between us.” Seeing that they just stared at her, she went on. “I did not die in my Universe, people. Spike warned us and we listened.” Smiling at Dawn, she added, “I’m completely satisfied with one Xander, so you may keep this one.” The girl blushed to the roots of her hair, while the man between them looked from one to the other bewildered. Before he could ask anything, they were swarmed by the rest of the group who wanted to embrace their long-lost friend.


Anya, shocked at first by the warm welcome, let herself enjoy it only briefly. Pulling away, she produced a mini disk out of thin air. Literally. “I’m here for a reason.”


Giles grunted. “If it is another Apocalypse, I swear to God I’ll retire.”


She shook her head no. “Our Buffy—” Her eyes turned to the blond Slayer. “God, this must have really been confusing when you were there… Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask. How was it when you were with two of him?” She pointed at Spike, completely forgetting why she was there, but didn’t wait for a reply. “I have asked our Spike, too, if you took turns, or—”


“Anya, point. Make one.” Willow was back at the stove, flipping a pancake that smelt just a bit overdone.


“Right. Buffy wanted me to give this to you.” She handed the disk to the blonde, who took hold of it without lowering her eyes from Anya’s face.


Worrying her lower lip, she asked, “Is Spike—”


She didn’t get to finish her question. “He’s fine. He said to say thank you and kiss you, but Xander—my Xander—wouldn’t let me.”


“And are he and Buffy—”


Anya just pointed at the disk. “I am not supposed to—” Her brow furrowed in concentration then her whole face lit up as she remembered the phrase. “Give you any spoilers.” Looking at the ceiling, as far as everyone else was concerned, she finished with, “Got to go. Take care,” and poofed out of there the exact same way she’d poofed in.


Xander’s eyes were filled with tears, as he looked at the place she stood a split second earlier. Dawn went to him and wrapped her arms around him. “She’s alive, Xander. And happy.”


He burrowed his face in the crook of her neck, returning her hug briefly before straightening up. “That’s all that matters.”



~~~~~*~~~~~



Dawn brought her laptop to the living room, and they all sat around to see what the disk they’d been sent was about. It only had a video file named after_the_apocalypse.


Willow hooked the laptop up to the television, took a seat on the floor by the computer, and hit play.


Andrew appeared on the screen, in a silken robe Giles immediately recognized as his. “I greet you, fellow warriors from another Universe.” He gave the camera a small, aristocratic wave. “I come bearing news of the Hellmouth Apocalypse, or better, Hellmouth Apocalypse Revisited for you.”


Shaking her head, Willow made to skip forward, but Dawn told her to leave it and the others agreed.


“We won, as you must have understood by now,” Andrew’s voice went on. “But not without casualties.”


Everyone’s face fell at that.


“A few of the Slayerettes died on the spot, while others were gravely injured.” Andrew rubbed discreetly at his eyes. “I almost died—would have, if Kennedy wasn’t standing in front of me.” Leaning closer to the camera, enough to make his nose look huge, he clarified. “Not to speak ill of the dead, but she wasn’t trying to save me. She was yelling about how she should be the one helping Willow, and the sword just… well… it wasn’t pretty.”


Now it was Willow’s turn to tear up. No matter what had happened with Kennedy and how things had ended, back then they’d been in love. She could only imagine how her other self must have been hurting from the loss.


Always the practical one, Buffy said to nobody in particular, “Uh-oh, I hope they didn’t get dark-Wills.”


As if he’d heard her, Andrew resumed. “Willow is still dealing with her grief, but something our resident vampire told her has helped immensely. I’m not privy to the information Spike divulged, but they seem to have gotten closer since he was the one who grounded her during the spell that—” Buffy didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. All she could think of was that it was the second time since Anya visited that Spike had been mentioned and that people had actually listened to him.


“Spike for the win,” muttered Dawn, patting William’s chest. He smirked and winked, trying to hide the fact that he was as worried about his younger self as Buffy was.


“But, to the fight! Spike told me what you already know, so I will not waste your time.”


Buffy thought she heard Giles grumble something about the boy being incapable of doing so, but didn’t linger on that, as Andrew was explaining how other-Buffy had worn the amulet and fought the forces of darkness.


“—not affected by the sunlight the amulet let out, of course, but the walls were caving in around her. Faith had tried to get her to leave, but Buffy wouldn’t. We were all boarding the school bus when a flash of light passed by our vehicle.”


He paused for emphasis, and Buffy let her head drop to the back of the couch. “Get on with it!”


“It was Spike!” In a conspiratorial tone, Andrew said, “You see, when Buffy had brought him to the house the previous night none of us really trusted him, but then she mentioned the soul.”


Buffy and William smiled at each other. Other-Buffy had lied for Spike, had trusted him after all, when it mattered.


“She told us that he’d tried to get it but couldn’t because your Spike already has it, and that he got something else instead. Something that marked him as one of the good guys.”


OK, so she’d lied about something else. Still: A lie. For Spike. That said a lot.


“Back to the white flash… maybe it wasn’t white… anyway, a rather dark flash sped by us, and I barely recognized said vampire, face contorted in agony. Nobody dared try and stop him when he rushed into what was left of the school. When he resurfaced, Buffy was in his arms. Unconscious.” The dramatic look on Andrew’s face would have made them worry, if they didn’t know he practically fed off attention. “We all wondered about Spike in the sun, of course, but Buffy later told us it was part of his new power keg, if you will.”


Giles turned narrowed eyes to Buffy, who looked back at him innocently. Just as he opened his mouth to ask something, other-Buffy appeared at the screen. “Andrew, I let you do this, cuz you promised to be fast. Wrap it up. Angel is having another fit.”


The group in the living room froze, holding a collective breath at the mention of the brooding vampire. Spike and other-Buffy hadn’t gotten their happy ending after all.


“Since some people—” He turned his eyes to the direction Buffy had gone. “Don’t appreciate good story telling, I’m going to make a long story short. Faith and Wood are together, in Cleveland, like they are in your Cosmos. The rest of us, Giles, Buffy, Spike, Xander, Anya, Willow, Dawn and moi, took our meagre belongings and moved to the City of Angels. One of those Angels, the tall dark vampire with a soul, extended us the hand of hospitality, so we invited the Slayerettes too, and turned his hotel into our new headquarters.”


Dawn couldn’t stifle a giggle. Angel, with so many people forced down his throat—in the non-fun way—had to look permanently constipated.


“As you can imagine,” Andrew went on, “Angel had—and is still having, if you ask me—some issues with Spike, even after we told him how he’d rescued his doomed love from a dreary grave.” Looking all conspiratorial again, he concluded, “If you ask me, things got worse about a week ago. At lunch, Buffy was eating a cracker, and it crumbled. Spike, ever present, licked his index finger and placed it on top of one of the crumbs, saying my crumb. She smiled and told him, yes, it is. Do your best with it.” With a nod full of meaning, Andrew bid them goodbye, and wished them all long and happy lives.


Just before the camera was switched off, his voice came from somewhere off-screen. “Oh, and you should see how furious the big guy was when Buffy gave Spike one of her chocolate chip cookies.”




The End