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Invitation

Tara and Willow walked into the Summers home hand in hand. "Buffy? Dawn?" They had news, and their house mates were the first they wanted to tell.

Dawn came skipping down the steps. Today had been the last day of school, and she had done well during the last semester. Well enough, in fact, that her grade point average had only fallen slightly over all, even with her having blown off most of the previous semester.

"What's up, guys?"

"Hey, Dawnie. Where's Buffy?" Willow greeted the teen.

"Oh, she's at Spike's. She should be here after sundown."

Willow nodded as the three noted the sun's slow decent. Tara sat next to her love on the couch, and Dawn took the chair across from them. Tara looked out the window wishing the sun would set. News like this was meant to be shared, and it had been so hard to keep the two lovers' secret. It was comparable to the one kept more than four months ago.

They rarely even talked about that anymore. Spike was such a normal part of the group now.

They had all been surprised by Xander's slow acceptance of the Vampire, but Anya constantly reminded him that he himself had married a former demon.

With the reality that Spike was the only other male in the group, bonding took place. The guys' night out every Wednesday tradition was in its second month. Generally, it consisted of little more than going to Willy's or The Bronze and getting mildly schnookered.

A few minutes after sundown, Spike's Desoto pulled up to the house. "He really needs a new muffler," Willow stated.

Buffy entered first. "Hey, guys."

Spike quickly bound through the door after her. "Hey, Nibblet. How's the last day of school?"

"Oh, it was so funny," she started giggling. "Steve, you know, the guy I told you said he was gonna dye his hair orange the last day of school?" Spike nodded and sat on the chair next to her. "He tried to do it by mixing the yellow dye with the red dye he bought, cuz they were outta orange, and his hair was totally fried. So he shaved it off, right?"

Spike nodded again as Buffy came over to him and sat on his lap. "Well, he found out he has a birthmark in the shape of a heart on the top of his head. So, like, all day, everyone called him 'heart head'." She was in hysterics, as the group just looked at her.

"I don't think it was that funny," Willow whispered to Tara.

The blonde shook her head. "Me, either. Guess you had to be there."

Dawn got hold of herself and saw no one else was laughing. "Oh, c'mon. That was so funny." She watched their heads nod in agreement, although no one was laughing. She shrugged. "You need new senses of humor."

Buffy shifted on Spike's lap and looked over at her friends. "So why are we all gathered in here? News?"

Tara and Willow glanced at each other, then to the group. "We found an apartment," Willow answered.

Dawn's happy mood was shattered. "You're leaving?" She directed the question to Willow.

"No, Dawnie, it's only five minutes from here. You can come over whenever you want, and it's not like we won't be over all the time anyway," Willow assured Dawn.

Tara continued her lover's explanation, "And it's got a second bedroom. We can fix it all up for you so you can spend the night and not have to sleep on the floor."

The frown faded as Dawn listened. "Really?" She watched as the redhead nodded with a smile.

~~`~~

The next few days went by quickly as plans were made for moving the two women into their very spacious new home. After work, Xander came over and took whatever the girls had packed that day over to their apartment. Spike came after sundown and did the same.

Within a week, the girls officially had moved in together.

Buffy and Dawn did a little room switching. Buffy was now in her mother's old room, Dawn in her older sister's. The now-empty third bedroom was converted into a study, using Joyce's desk from downstairs. Xander built a few bookcases, while Spike was put to work moving things from one room to the other.

By the end of the second week of summer break, the moving and arranging was finished.

The routine that came with summer was easy to fall into. Dawn worked at The Magic Box a few hours everyday. Buffy switched to the day shift at The Doublemeat. Spike worked on his next book, deciding to write about when he was turned. The Magic Box kept Anya busy, and Mrs. Harris was fond of married life. Xander enjoyed his work as foreman and was already up for another raise in salary.

Buffy Summers sat at the table writing checks for the monthly bills. With some budget help from Spike, she had managed to keep the house payment up and had over 1500 dollars in her savings account. Dawn even contributed after she finished paying Anya back and was earning her own money.

"And 55 for the electric company." She wrote the check and slipped the paper into the envelope. After balancing the check book, she found that she now had 1756 dollars and 27 cents. With pride she cleared the table and began setting it for dinner. The gang in whole was coming over tonight, and the lasagna was almost done cooking. The smell of Italian food filled the house.

~~`~~

London, England

A young man entered the office of Quentin Travers. He was tall and lanky. The brown hair on his head was neatly trimmed and his spectacles sat firmly in place on his nose. "Mr. Travers." He shook the older man's hand as he took the seat in front of the large desk. "You wished to see me?"

The older man sat straight. "Yes, Randall. We may have a problem with the Slayer."
Quentin opened the top drawer to his right and brought out a manila folder and a book.

"Diary of Buffy the Vampire Slayer" was printed on both items.

"She will soon be entering her seventh year as an active Slayer," he continued as he handed the folder to Randall's outstretched hand. "Do you know how many Slayers have lived through their seventh year?" He watched as the young man shook his head. "None. Most do not make it through their third year. Her strength has grown, and she no longer has a Watcher. This creates a problem. Without proper documentation, we cannot gauge her growth, or her... well, we need to see her."

Quentin handed Randall a picture of Buffy. "Some months ago she requested a large number of texts." Randal nodded in agreement, remembering the frenzied people gathering books, him included. "We believe she may have discovered, or come close to discovering, a few things that we in no way intend her to find out."

"What would that be, sir?"

"It's not your concern. Yours will be her. I am going to invite her to come here. We need to find out what a Slayer can do after so much time. Never on record have we had this happen, and it should be documented." Quentin handed the folder to the young man. "You will study this. Be prepared for quite a few surprises."

"Yes, sir. Is there anything else?"

"Not at this time. Now go on and get some rest. I need to make a call."

The young man exited the office and the older checked his watch. It was nearly two in the morning. He picked up the phone and dialed the number written in his personal phone book.

~~`~~

Anya and Xander arrived first, carrying a bottle of wine. "Mmmm. I smell lasagna."
Xander sat the bottle on the kitchen counter before taking his wife's coat.

Anya started helping with the salad. "It does smell very well prepared, Buffy."

"Thanks." Buffy carried the lasagna from the oven to the countertop. "It did come out alright, didn't it?" she asked, pleased with herself.

The back door opened, and Spike came in from outside. Some old habits were just hard to break. "Hi, luv." He walked over to Buffy, still wearing her oven mitts, pulled her close and kissed her deeply. The smell of vanilla permeated his senses. "I'm thinkin' vanilla for dessert."

"Ohhh, ice cream." Xander interrupted their moment. "With whipped cream."

Spike's eyebrow shot up as he eyed his friend. Then he looked back at his love. "What do ya say, Buffy... whipped cream?"

Buffy reddened, and Anya whispered to Xander, "They're talking about sex again," a bit annoyed since she always seemed to get funny looks for being so open about the latest bedroom adventures of Mr. and Mrs. Harris.

"Oh." Xander took the salad to the set table. "Well, they aren't married." He called back to his sour faced wife.

Buffy followed with the lasagna just as Willow and Tara arrived with Dawn. "How was the movie, Bit?" Spike asked while carrying out four glasses of milk and set them on the table.

Dawn shed her jacket and followed him back into the kitchen to lend a hand. "I just can't seem to get into Vampire movies anymore. They never get anything right. I mean, c'mon. Vampire Queen?"

Buffy came back into the kitchen as the Vampire and her sister carried out a plate of breadsticks and three more drinks. "Don't know, Bit. I think I remember something about a very old Vampiress, and she was to have been one of the few to survive after humans started takin' over the planet."

Tara and Willow were seated along with Anya and Xander as Buffy brought out Spike's warmed blood. Dawn sat on Buffy's left, Spike on her right. Buffy took her seat at the head of the table. "Well, dig in."

"Vampires were first?" Dawn asked the table as she filled her plate.

"Oh, yeah." Willow looked down the table, holding a breadstick. "Giles told us that in high school. Demons were living the high life before us pesky people came along."

"Well, what did they eat?" the teenager asked.

Spike raised his now-empty mug with "Kiss the Vampire" carefully painted on the side, courtesy of Dawn. "Whatever they could."

The phone rang from the kitchen. "Telemarketers," Buffy grumbled as she stood and walked into the kitchen.

She picked up the phone and held it to her ear. "Summers residence."

"Miss Summers. This is Quentin Travers."

Buffy backed out of the kitchen enough so that everyone in the dining room could hear her side of the conversation . "Oh, hello, Mr. Travers," she said a bit loudly and looked at the now-quiet group gathered at her table. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, Miss Summers, I am not sure if you're aware of this, but you are soon to begin your seventh year as Slayer."

"Yes. I am aware of that." It was a ridiculous question. How could she not know?

Quentin cleared his throat. "Well, are you aware that you are the longest lived Slayer on record?"

"I was fairly sure I was. Why?"

"We would like you to come to London, so that we can document your progress. You are likely to be the only Slayer we will be able to do this with."

Buffy stared at her friends with confusion when she spoke. "You want me to come to
London... and leave Sunnydale to the Vampires?"

"There are Vampires in London, Miss Summers. You will not be without duties here."

"Why can't you just come here? I really don't want to leave my sister here alone."

"We have specific tests we need you to perform. The Council has equipment that I could not bring and would be very difficult to obtain in the U.S. As far as your sister, she may come along. We will cover the expenses and could have you on a plane by morning."

"Just a second, Mr. Travers." Buffy pressed her hand over the phone. "He wants me to go to England, and I'm pretty sure it's an 'as soon as possible deal'. Something about wanting to document me cuz I'm so old."

"They want you jumping through their hoops again," Spike spat. "How long?"

Buffy spoke into the phone. "How long will I be gone if I do come?"

"Possibly as long as a month. It will all depend on how you have progressed."

Buffy frowned. "A month?" Spike along with the rest of the table began shaking their heads. Xander also was mouthing 'don't do it'.

"Very possibly." Quentin affirmed.

She watched as the entire group gave their opinion, then an idea hit her. "Well, Mr. Travers, I'm afraid that you could not properly measure how much I've progressed without the people who help me. I think that you will have to come here. That is, if you want an accurate picture of how it is I am still alive... again."

She could hear Quentin sigh over the line. "Very well, we will fly over you, your sister, and whomever you consider relevant, but I am afraid we can afford no more than six passengers."

A quick head count, including herself, put them one over the mark. "One second." She held her hand to the mouthpiece again. "Who wants to go to London?" All hands shot up.

"I think you can afford seven," Buffy said into the phone.

With a resigned sigh he answered, "Very well."

"Oh, and I won't be working. I have a mortgage, bills in general..."

Another sigh. "We will cover all expenses, Miss Summers. Do you agree?"


Chapter End Notes:
Well there's the settup folks. Deep hatred or great love??



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