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The mystery might have continued if an eagle-eyed Willow had never looked up at the love of her friend’s life. Guilt had never been such a pure shade until Anya wore it on her face.

“She knows something.”

Willow didn’t often interject when Giles was on a spiel about research and hypotheses, but she’d been long on the look-out for Anya’s perks and quirks and this looked like quite a substantial one. She’d known all along—one day the ex-demon would betray how truly twisted she was; right now her patience was finally being rewarded. And really, now that she knew—now that Anya looked guilty as hell—it was more than obvious.

The room stopped to look at Willow in surprise, waiting expectantly for an explanation of her outburst, as almost all her observations were worthwhile in the information sense.

“Anya. She’s got ‘uh-oh’ face.” She grinned in complete confidence. This moment was hers and she was going to expose Anya for the unstable, psychotic and incompatible-for-Xander girl she truly was.

It took slow seconds for the Scoobies to process her claim and attempt a connection to the problem at hand, then laugh and reject it. They turned away, interested again in Giles’s theories that were so not even close to the real answers to this whacked out mystery, and Willow’s satisfied grin faded.

Did she have to have all the brains around here?

Having Spike as an ally had never entered the redhead’s mind as a possibility, but she smiled triumphantly anyway.

“Oi. I’ve said from the start that the demongirl must know something. You remember, Harris. When we saw the first carrot.”

Xander didn’t jump straight away to reject Spike’s claim, instead screwing up his face as if trying to remember something that had happened two days after his birth.

“Hmmm, I’m thinking no. Definitely not coming to me. I remember you wailing about the carrot and how Buffy should be told—” Xander stopped suddenly, a wayward deer caught in too many incredulous gazes to escape collision safely. “Did I say that Spike said we should let Buffy know? I meant I said we should let Buffy know.”

“So how come the Slayer didn’t know then, Whelp? And you’re bypassing the point, as usual. Your brain too puffy to stay focused? Your bird’s escaping out the back, by the way.” Spike smirked, linked his hands behind his head and rocked back on his chair as Willow, Buffy, Giles and Xander darted surprised glances to the back of the Magic Box just in time to catch Anya as disappeared into the training room. He looked up and saw Tara smiling at him shyly. Wasn’t it nice to see he had support in some quarters of this group?

“Ahn!” Xander yelped, finding it difficult to think of an excuse for his girlfriend over their current bunny crisis when she was skipping out the back door.

Buffy caught her before the door could shut. And with a firm yet guided arm across the other girl’s shoulders, she led her back into the main research part of the shop.

With too many expectant gazes searching for some reason for her sudden defection, Anya seemed to inwardly collapse, resignation making her eyes dark and watery.

“You know, the fact that Buffy has been dreaming about killer bunnies—and that Anya’s most feared creature is the rabbit—and the fact that she’s not wigged out even once, despite the alarming evidence to support the existence of giant bunnies on the Hellmouth…I’m thinking the ex-vengeance demon might have the skinny on our friendly not-so-neighbourly giant carrot grower.” Willow stared the girl down with her patented trying-to-be-tough glare and waited for the girl to crack.

“All right!” Anya shouted, her hands doing an abrupt wave in the air before banging down on the table as she slumped dramatically into a seat. “The little man is here for me. I cursed him to be the caretaker of the giant werebunnies for eternity. But I swear, there were only two of them then,” the blonde appealed pathetically.

“Oh my Lord, but these are rabbits. How many are there now?” Giles balked at the numbers flitting through his head. The savagery visited on a dimension once a month…why, it bordered on catastrophic.

Anya wept. She blew her nose and cried out a number that made Giles’s jaw drop. “But that was over two hundred years ago. It could have dropped by now.”

“Good God woman!” Everyone jumped at the violence of the Watcher’s uncharacteristic explosion. “Dropped? Unless your caretaker was lacing those bloody carrots with mixamotosis, there is every chance the dimension has been over-run by giant murderous rabbits. How could you have been so careless?”

“Hey, and don’t forget cruel!” exclaimed Willow, liking the colour that leached from the ex-demon girl’s cheeks. “That poor old man must be terrified out of his mind.”

“But it’s his fault!” Anya exploded from her chair, the legs scraping like chalk on a blackboard.

Buffy raised a brow. It figured. Here they had a sitch where there was a guy, and Anya did something not only vengeful but morally wrong, and she was still blaming it on the poor fool that was probably totally traumatised. And let’s not overlook the sympathetic hug that Xander was giving her, his big chunky hands rubbing loving circles on her back while she shuddered melodramatically. If she even tried to offer the same comfort to Spike about some family he’d slaughtered when he was first vamped but had found a way to come back and haunt him, Xander would be the first to jump on her back with the murderous, evil vampire rhetoric. She needed to contact someone about fixing the dictionary. Hypocrisy obviously started with an X.

Carefully turning away from the show, Buffy had to reiterate the real worry. “No matter whose fault it is, these things seem to be here and the scared, weird little guy seems to be making this his home. Unless we do something, those things are probably going to dust Spike.”

Xander interrupted Buffy with a smug, “So Ahn did a good thing, then?”

Buffy glared, but then a glint of wicked glee lit up her eyes. “I think we can safely assume the guy brought the bad bunnies here to deal with the demon that ruined his life in the first place. What do you say I drop by the crypt tonight and give him directions to your place, Xan? I know I’m not known as Artistic Buffy, but I bet I could draw a map.” Her eyes glittered with fun as she turned to her redheaded friend. “How’s that full moon looking for tonight, Will?” she asked, still staring at her male-shaped friend as he hugged Anya even tighter.

“We’ll be good,” Anya squeaked, shocking everyone in the room with her almost flawless cooperation. It didn’t take much for them to see the little shop-keeper was shaking so hard that she was teetering on her practical work heels. “Won’t we, Xander? No more Spike jokes.” She laughed nervously, a tinge of hysteria bubbling up before she turned and tugged urgently on his arm. “It wouldn’t do to make the Slayer angry.”

The return of her title made Buffy raise a brow and she turned toward Spike, who merely shrugged his confusion. Whatever this was, Anya believed she needed Slayer protection.

“It’s okay,” Buffy snickered. “I’m not really going to give your home address to some guy who’s feeding the homicidal rabbits to their giant, feral best.”

“Oh, thank God.” Anya shuddered, and sounded another nervous giggle before she slumped, emotionally exhausted, into a chair.

“So, what is your plan then, Buffy? Poison them? Attack with blades? Blow up the crypt that has their food supply? Perhaps the rabbits themselves are beneath it?” Giles’s enthusiasm for the solution had him grinning madly and eyeing a new sword that he’d been busily polishing.

“Actually,” Buffy started slowly, surprised at this suddenly blood-thirsty side of Giles. “I was thinking I could go talk to this farmer guy. See if I can talk to him about the Anya sitch. And then if he’s unreasonable, cut his head off.”

The room came to an ear-shattering silence. It was so quiet that even the almost imperceptible hum of the light fixtures seemed like they were irritatingly loud. Minutes ticked by while everyone stared at Buffy, expressions varying only by the choice of mouth hanging open or eyes as wide as pizza dishes.

“So, you want the broadsword or the axe, luv?” Spike smirked as he got to his feet and strutted his way to Buffy’s side.

“I was kind of eyeing Giles’s new toy. It’s shiny. I like shiny things.” Buffy leaned over and snatched the handle out of Giles’s loose grip and gave it an experimental twirl, barely missing a tuft of Spike’s bleached hair as the blade whizzed past his ear.

“Much more of that and you’ll be left admiring my shiny pile of dust.” Spike looked indignant, but the look of horror on Buffy’s face and the shimmer of tears in her eyes undid him. He gave her a hug, loving the way the weight of her body against his made his coat creak in all the good ways and doing his best to ignore the faux-wretch that was Harris doing his usual immature tricks.

“I don’t think you should go to this man alone, Buffy.” Giles ignored Spike’s offended frown and growl, ploughing on regardless of the vampire’s hurt feelings. “I think it might be best if you have the strength of numbers on your side.”

Buffy looked thoughtful, then nodded. “Sounds good. Let’s arm up and head out.” Like a girl, the Slayer seized her boyfriend’s hand and tugged him toward the door. Willow, Tara and Giles grabbed what they could, preceding Xander and a struggling, less-than-eager Anya to the door. The group halted just long enough to lock the shop up behind them and then they were off, a strange collection of people heading straight to Spike’s cemetery and crypt.

Buffy walked beside Spike in the cool night, her hand feeling the warmth of his touch and her body tingling from his closeness. It was strange how their togetherness had just happened and that she felt less guilt at sharing her relationship with Spike in front of her friends. It was almost as if the enforced joining of their bodies had cleansed her mind of all her mortal hang ups. Suddenly it didn’t matter if Xander was jealous or if Giles was disappointed in her. It didn’t matter if they thought she was risking their lives by choosing to be with another vampire, because she knew she wasn’t. In the matter of days and over the course of several nights of erotic yet terrifying dreams, Buffy had changed. She’d grown and accepted what her future looked like, and she couldn’t see herself at thirty with friends married with kids, or stretching out under the umbrella of careers while she remained lonely with only the monsters of the night to keep her company. They may have wanted love and happiness for her, but when it came down to it, they only wanted it so long as they could pick and choose who she was happy with.

I should be grateful the first slayer had tried to kill me, Buffy thought with a sudden smile. How else would she have ever let go of the prejudices that she held regarding Spike? She might never have seen him as anything but an irritating pest that just might kill her if he ever worked out how to get rid of the chip. She may have ridiculed him every chance she or Xander got, but Buffy never forgot the potential simmering under his patient forbearance. Never allowed the threat of him to diminish in her heart. Somehow, whenever she thought of him loose and free, killing again as he made up for lost time and attempted to prove he was still the evil Big Bad his family thought he was, she was filled with sadness. It hurt to consider Spike leaving Sunnydale now. Leaving her. One vengeance bound slayer later and Buffy was reconciled to living the rest of her life at the side of Spike and being protected by his care rather than destroyed by it. There was nothing to hate about that, and yet everything to love.

Love.

That was a word that filled her with awe. It was a word that she felt Spike could re-define. She had a feeling it had nothing to do with pedestals in Spike’s mind. Had nothing to do with how often and how successfully she could save the world. She was positive he wasn’t thinking about how perfect it was to have sex with her, and she had no illusions that a creature needed a soul to love. Not anymore.

Buffy could smell things on the night that was probably non-existent to her friends and watcher behind her. She could smell death as it crawled out of the ground. She could smell the frenzy of the newly birthed being as it hunted down its prey, and she could scent the fear of the ripe flesh that it was her job to protect. She didn’t kid herself. Buffy knew that she was largely successful in her town, but that there was more out there than just one slayer could deal with. She felt things, too. She could feel the apprehension of those following her as they geared up for a possible furry fight to the death. She could feel the excitement that buzzed through Spike as he held himself to the walking pace she’d set. His body was always in a hurry, but if things were going to be bad, Buffy wasn’t in any rush to meet their target.

But most of all, she could feel the concern that radiated from each and every one of those she called friend as they bore holes in her back and wished they could set Spike alight. It was wrong, but she understood it. Unfortunately for them, Spike’s continuance on the outer edge of the gang was at a very definite end.

“Spike?”

“Yeah, luv.”

“I love you.” Buffy grinned as he lost step and almost tripped over a clump of grass.

“Oh. Righteo then.” A gentle squeeze of her hand and they continued walking, only stopping a minute later to wonder at the loss of their back-up.

“You guys planning on being there when I confront the carrot guy or not?” Buffy watched as the stunned Scoobies gathered their wits and jogged to catch up, staring at Buffy in such a way she wondered briefly if she might be orange again. Not that it mattered—not when she was royalty on Spike’s arm.

“We’re right behind you, Buff. Good thing too. Wouldn’t want your honey to slip on our collective disgust.” Xander shook his head, but Buffy shrugged and his face twisted up in surprise. Heh, it wasn’t her fault if he couldn’t intimidate her into the Spike-hate anymore.

They continued on in silence, Buffy’s and Spike’s companionable, the others in shock. Despite heading into a potentially dangerous situation, Buffy felt relaxed and happy. She let go of Spike’s hand and moved closer, feeling all gooey with the girlish crush as she slipped under Spike’s arm and was cradled against his body. It felt so carefree, and yet burned her with excitement. She never could have expected to feel like this with Spike at her side. It just made the surprise so much sweeter.

The moment couldn’t last, however. Not when there was danger to curtail, and badness to eradicate before vampires were turned to not so pretty dust particles. Spike’s crypt loomed ahead, and it seemed far more sinister and scary this night in the dark than it had on any other. It glowed with a moon looking very close to full, making Buffy shiver with what she hoped wasn’t foreboding.

And then Carrot Man stepped out, his eyes darting around and back again. Amidst the bodies he focused on one, his face turning purple as he held in rage and then exploded in a gush of hatred that must have been stored for centuries.

“Anyanka!!”





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