“Hey, Buffy,” Xander’s voice was inappropriately cheerful as he walked into the living room, followed closely by Willow and Anya – but the boy’s smile quickly faded when he saw her sitting on the sofa, Spike’s arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders as she glared angrily up at her Watcher.
“Okay – isn’t there *anything* we can do about that?” he turned plaintively to Giles, his voice becoming a whine. “ ‘Cause if I have to look at that for one more second…”
“You could always leave,” Spike suggested with a smirk from his seat beside Buffy, encouraged by the anger he felt from her at Xander’s rather rude remarks. “Keep us both from getting ill.”
Xander turned a surprisingly intense look of hatred on the blonde vampire, as he snarled, “Careful, Bloodbreath! As far as I’m concerned, *Fangless*, you’re nothing but a tragic Dust Buster incident waiting to happen! So until you can actually bite back, you might wanna keep your mouth shut before I shut it for you!”
Spike scoffed quietly at his threat, a look of challenge in his icy blue eyes, momentarily flecked with gold, as he retorted in a chillingly calm voice, “I’d love to see you try it, Whelp.”
Xander’s eyes narrowed in anger and he moved toward the vampire without hesitation, despite the anxious protests from both Anya and Willow – who had already noticed the look of fury on Buffy’s face that he had missed. The boy drew back his fist to strike the seated blonde – but his fist was stopped before it could land – before Spike could even begin to move to defend himself – by the Slayer’s powerful grip on his wrist.
“Did you forget what happened the last time you tried to hurt my mate, Xander?” Buffy asked him coldly – and the deadly anger in her voice sent a shudder down Spike’s spine as well as Xander’s, despite the fact that he knew she was truly herself again – the Slayer demon was under control.
No – this particular brand of protective rage was pure Buffy Summers.
Xander stared at his best friend in disbelief, stunned into silence by her unexpected reaction. He had – incorrectly – assumed that once the Slayer demon was no longer controlling her, Buffy’s urge to defend her vampire mate would vanish as well.
But apparently – that was not the case.
Xander tried to pull his hand away, and found to his alarm that Buffy would not release her hold on his wrist. She was not hurting him at all – yet – but there was no way in the world that he was going to be able to break her grip, no matter how hard he tried.
Her blazing emerald gaze bored into his with unyielding intensity – and Xander realized suddenly that she was still waiting for a response to her question. All he could manage was a weak shake of his head.
No – Xander had not forgotten.
“Then maybe you’d better think about *not* raising your hand to him again – okay?” The slayer spoke the words slowly in a voice of calm, cool steel.
Xander shook his head again to indicate that he would not – and Buffy finally released him. He immediately backpedaled away from her as quickly as he could, back to where Anya and Willow stood watching the scene.
“I thought they got rid of the psycho Slayer thing!” Xander’s tone was almost accusing as he looked at the Watcher, and Willow’s tearful, questioning gaze turned to Giles as well, the same thought obviously in her mind as well.
But Anya knew better.
Her eyes focused intently on Buffy, she answered softly before Giles could, “They did.”
“Yeah, right!” Xander scoffed, giving his girlfriend a disgusted, dismissive look. “Did you completely miss the part where she just *threatened* me over the evil undead thing? *Buffy* wouldn’t ever have done that – the *Slayer* on the other hand…”
“Would have torn your arm clean off and beaten you to death with it,” Anya broke in matter-of-factly, her voice soft and even, her eyes never leaving those of the Slayer. “She wouldn’t have cared one bit whether or not she hurt you – and she *would* have. Badly.”
Xander was stunned to silence by those unexpected words, though he could not deny the truth of them. In fact – Anya’s observation was sobering to them all. They had seen how truly dangerous the Slayer could be – and knew very well that what Buffy had just said and done was really next to nothing on the psycho-Slayer Richter scale.
Which left them with the question – what *was* behind Buffy’s behavior?
“Then – it’s the claim! She’s really our Buffy, but she’s under Spike’s evil influence!” Xander guessed, pointing an accusing finger at the vampire, though he did not dare to actually move any closer to him again.
“Spike’s *not* an evil influence!” Dawn interrupted in angry defense of her friend.
“Hey!” Spike objected. “I am so!”
*Not…helping…Sweetheart…*
*Well, I am!*
“Is there any way to *break* the claim? Now that the spell’s been broken?” Willow asked hopefully, looking to Giles with the expectancy of a trusting child – and it was impossible to miss the relief in her voice at the knowledge that the spell she had cast was no longer in effect over her friend.
Buffy’s eyes narrowed slowly in a mixture of anger at the suggestion of breaking the claim – and the reawakening of suspicions she had felt before, but had not had time to think about – until now.
“I’m looking into that,” Giles replied, apparently oblivious to Buffy’s reaction, and to her increased scrutiny of her friend. “But it does not appear that breaking the claim is going to be an option. It seems to me that our only option is to – well, to…”
“Break the *vamp*,” Xander muttered, casting a dark look of triumph in Spike’s direction, a mean smile coming across his face. “Wow, what a tough break. I’m really torn here. Wish we didn’t have to…” His overly sincere tone broke off suddenly, and he shook his head, admitting flippantly, “Nope – sorry. Can’t even *begin* to pull that off. What’s the big deal, then? We dust the blonde menace, and all’s well in Buffy-ville again. Right?”
“Um – Xander…” Willow interrupted him in a voice of quiet trepidation. “Maybe you shouldn’t…”
“What?” the oblivious boy asked, glancing between the troubled faces of his best friend as his girlfriend. “Why shouldn’t I say what we’re all thinking?”
“Isn’t that what you’re always telling me *not* to do?” Anya muttered with exasperation, and no small resentment, in her voice.
“Because Buffy’s obviously not very happy with your idea,” Willow replied to his question, her eyes focused on the furious face of the Slayer, as she shook off Spike’s arm – with surprising gentleness, considering her mood – and rose to her feet with an almost regal grace.
“That’s the only reason you can think of why it *might* not be okay to dust my mate?” Buffy incredulous, quietly outraged words were directed at the redhead, as she shook her head in disbelief, taking in the expressions on the faces of her friends.
Only Anya – who had been Spike’s ally since the beginning of this whole mess – had said nothing to indicate that she agreed with the idea of dusting Spike. All of the others seemed to be of the opinion that it was at the worst an unfortunate, but not particularly troubling, turn of events, and one that had to be carried out.
They all seemed intent, more than anything, on convincing Buffy of that fact.
And that was *so* not going to happen!
“Excuse me? Guys, he is sitting right here! How can you think for one second that it’s *okay* to just…” Buffy’s voice trailed off, and she shook her head again, utterly speechless with disgust at the incredible insensitivity of her friends. “How dare you even suggest it at all?” she went on finally. “He is my *mate*! That’s eternal, guys! You are not going to *touch* him – and that’s it. Final. No argument. That’s. It.”
“Buffy,” Willow began hesitantly, her voice soft, patient and placating. “Maybe you should just – just listen to what Giles was trying to say. I know you don’t want…”
“No,” Buffy cut her off firmly, her piercing gaze holding the other girl’s eyes firmly, until Willow found herself forced to look away. “No, *you* all need to listen. None of you have any *idea* what these last few days have been like – all the things that have happened…”
“Buffy,” Giles interrupted gently, “claim or no claim, it’s only natural that you would have developed a sort of -- *affection*, for Spike, after going through…”
“What part of ‘you need to listen’ is difficult for you, Giles?” Buffy snapped, glaring at him – and the sheer ferocity in her eyes was enough to silence the older man.
In fact – it pretty much silenced everyone.
“You all seem to think you’ve got it all figured out – that you know exactly what is best for me in this situation…” There was an accusing note to Buffy’s voice as she made that statement, that didn’t leave her voice, even when it softened to add with a sad little laugh, “You always have.”
She paused, looking at each of them in turn, meeting their eyes as she declared, “But you don’t. This is *my* life – my future – we’re talking about here. *I’m* the Slayer – not any of you. And none of you have the first clue what that’s like. So for once – I’m going to tell *you* what I need to do.”
If it wouldn’t have spoiled the intense drama of the moment – Spike would have stood up and cheered, he was so very proud of his girl. As it was, he just sat there quietly on the edge of the couch, the smirk on his face having become a wide, gleeful smile of triumph. His heart was filled with a sense of elation and triumph – and utter relief.
The Slayer had made her choice – and it was him.
“This whole stupid ritual – which was completely unnecessary from the start – was your idea, Giles,” Buffy pointed out, her voice hard and unyielding, yet still calm and certain. “You were the one who was so sure we had to do something about Spike – even though it was pretty obvious that somebody had already done ‘something’ that made him pretty effectively harmless.”
“That could change at any time…” Giles argued quietly, shaking his head and opening his mouth to say more.
“I’m still talking,” Buffy cut him off, not pausing to allow him the chance to go on, before she continued, “So, without researching the ritual properly, without really knowing what I was getting into – I initiated the dominance claim. *I* did that. That was my first big mistake.”
“But,” she went on, her eyes narrowing slightly as they fell on her closest female friend, who suddenly found the Summers’ living room carpet utterly fascinating, “I think the whole thing was doomed before I ever started the ritual. I think – I think that the whole set up was something entirely different than what I thought I was going into – wasn’t it, Willow?”
The little redhead’s wide, panicked green eyes shot up to Buffy’s in alarm, and she shook her head emphatically. “What are you talking about, Buffy?” she asked in a timid, shaking voice. “How would I know…?”
“What did you do to the spell, Will?” Buffy asked simply, her voice quiet and matter-of-fact, but without anger or accusation. She had known the girl for a long time, and knew very well that there was something Willow was keeping from her – and it could only be about the spell.
In hindsight – her friend’s guilty reactions throughout the whole sequence of events were now painfully obvious.
“What makes you think I did – I mean – just because the spell went wrong doesn’t mean I did something to *make* it go wrong…spells go wrong all the time, and especially mine, so why would you think that I would…”
“The truth, Willow,” Buffy pressed her firmly, stepping toward her and seeking her evasive gaze. Her voice softened as she added, “Please. I know you did *something* -- something that altered the dynamic of the whole ritual. I just want to know what – so we can know if there’s anything else that could still go wrong, and come back to haunt us later.”
Buffy’s suggestion that there might still be negative consequences for her secret was the final push it took to get Willow to cave. For all her misguided confidence in her own ability to do magic and judgment as to what was best for those she loved – Willow *did* love her friends, and hated to think that any more harm might come to them because of her “tweaking” of the spell.
“I – I was only trying to help,” she whispered, her voice trembling and tearful. “I just – wanted to be sure that you would win the fight, Buffy…”
“So you *did* alter the spell?” Giles’ voice was aghast, his eyes wide and stunned in an expression of betrayal as he stared at the girl. “Willow – how could you take such a risk? And then not to tell us…why, there’s no end to the terrible things that could have…”
“She’s telling us *now*, Giles,” Buffy cut him off with a pointed look, before returning her attention to her friend. “Please, Will – once we know just exactly what you changed, then Giles can look into it and be sure that there’s nothing else that could still go wrong.”
“It – it shouldn’t have caused any trouble,” Willow began to explain in a halting, hesitant voice, her eyes still downcast, her expression miserable. “The original spell said that the source of the warriors’ power would be unleashed – it was meant for Spike…to turn off his chip…I had no idea that it was going to read ‘warrior’ to include you, too, Buffy, or I never would have…”
“*Will*.”
The redhead cut off her instinctive ramble, taking a deep breath before she answered in a hurried release of words, “It was supposed to change things, so that Spike would be free to fight, but the spell would somehow turn his own power against him, and he would have to lose. I added a clause to the spell so that it said, ‘let the source of the warriors’ power be unleashed -- but let that power turn on the warrior -- and be his ultimate destruction’.”
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