Hi... I'm so sorry that this took so long, there are a tone of excuses but mostly, it's just I had a hard time slow aftermath pieces when I just want to write Spuffy smut and explosions, But this chapter needed to happen. The next one will be up soon I promise. Whew! Writing downtime is so much harder than crazy action scenes! Enjoy!
Also none of my notes are showing, but I appreciate all of your reviews! and I look forward to hearing more!!!
Thanks all,
Petra
Chapter Nineteen – Those Left Behind
There was rubbish piling up on the counter.
Rupert studiously avoided looking at it as he came downstairs. The afternoon sunshine came in slanted highlighting the clutter in his once pristine flat. It had been building for months, but he couldn’t make himself clear it away. He couldn’t make himself sort through it, he was probably behind on important correspondence, but that seemed immaterial. Every morning he just dropped the post on the counter and avoided it for the rest of the day, that whole bit of the flat, which made getting into his kitchen difficult.
He was spending a fortune on take-away.
Most days he was able to function properly. He was actually quite proud of how he was handling it, it would be worse if he had just allowed himself to sink into the fact that he was a watcher without a slayer, but he had stopped being a watcher years ago. Now he had the shop, and the extraordinary band of people who were determined to keep on fighting the good fight. It was a little like he was their watcher now. Except that he had to stop thinking of himself that way.
He managed to get up, get dressed and make it into the Magic Box. If it was a good day he would leave the place in the able hands of Anya and go home, maybe read a book. If it was a very good day he would make tea and force himself to sort the post, bills were a part of the real world, but it meant seeing the letter, the letter that the Council sent him as a courtesy because he already knew what it said.
She was gone. The oracles had confirmed it.
He couldn’t make himself throw it away. So the logistics of his life waited for his good days.
Today was one of those. He had not even required the distraction that was his shop, he just sat at home and read, able to quiet the feelings that he had failed her for a little longer than usual. It was uncharacteristically drippy out in Sunnydale, it felt properly mournful.
He was in the kitchen, making a cuppa. He had seen to his bills and even found a letter from Olivia.
There had been a lot of good days recently.
He had taken to visiting with Joyce on bad days. At first he had harkened back to the days after Buffy’s first disappearance, but it was different this time. She understood Buffy’s calling a little bit better and had come to accept the complications that came with along with it. She had become a bit of a self- help nut, but Giles did his best to keep her grounded, coming to her house for wine and conversation. He had initially gone over to help out the woman who had become a friend, but the visits had also become immensely beneficial to him. Having things to do, somewhere to be in the evening helped a good deal. He had to be presentable, keep going, and every time he had to go be with the Scoobies and be their watcher it got a little bit easier to be that, it became a bit less pointless to shave, a bit more comfortable to be among the others.
He put the kettle on, but was careful to avoid the counter, he had milk in the fridge. He had had it just a little longer than he was normally comfortable with, but it would do.
He wondered how the shop was doing. Anya had turned out to be an able business woman which was surprising since, as he understood it, she had been failing math back at Sunnydale high. Dawn had also turned out to be quite the revelation. Joyce had been grateful for Dawn to feel a measure of inclusion in the Scoobies as well as independence from her mother. Dawn, it seems, had been starting to suspect something when Joyce had whisked her away to Chicago so soon after finding out that her sister had died. They had both decided that the news of her own true nature would not be well received. She worked at the Magic Box three afternoons a week, although Rupert was always careful to let her leave with ample time before sunset to walk home.
Rupert sighed, fixing the tea and heading out into the living room to drink it.
Surprisingly, the Summers’s removal from Sunnydale and Buffy’s disappearance had been enough to throw Glory off their tail. It had been so easy the Scoobies were waiting for the other shoe to drop. At first only Glory and her Minions had realized the slayer’s disappearance, but word had started to spread and there was a marked uptick in the demon population so perhaps it had already.
Rupert was suddenly distracted by the time. He was expected in the Summer’s house in half an hour and he still needed to pick up a bottle of wine. Hurriedly, he gulped down his tea and dashed upstairs to be sure he had everything that he needed. There was a time when he would never have left dishes in the sink but now they just got left at the top of the pile while Rupert did his best to avoid the clutter of the post. He could put a brave face on it most days, but one look into his apartment burst the façade.
*****
Tara loved misty rainy weather. It was something that she missed living in Southern California. So it was a rare treat for her for there to be a day like this. How strange for the weather to be perfect all the time even in the winter. Not today, it was misty today, almost foggy. So she sat enjoying the pretty grounds of UC Sunnydale just feeling at peace and doing her best to project good vibes to her girlfriend who was feeling everything but.
Mrs. Summers was having a dinner party today. Party was the wrong word, party meant happy things and there were no happy things, really. Today was supposed to be Buffy’s birthday. So it was more of a gathering. Willow had made a joke Tara didn’t get about Brie.
Tara wasn’t sure that she should be there, the joke notwithstanding, she and Willow had been going strong but she had barely known Buffy. She was going to feel super-weird while everyone talked about the good old days. Tara sighed to herself, not going was not going to be an option though. She studied Willow through the curtain of her blonde hair. Her girlfriend was not doing well.
It had started a week ago when Willow had broken down over a top that didn’t look like something the red head would usually wear. It had apparently been a gift she had purchased for Buffy ages ago, she had been saving it for her birthday. She had worn that earlier, but she had since changed her clothes a few times, six to be exact.
Her personal misgivings about being around the crew were going to have to take a back seat. Willow needed her. She was just going to have to muscle through it.
Maybe she could just get other people to tell stories, then she could just listen. She had really liked Buffy, she knew there would be some good ones. And they would want to tell them.
Willow caught her attention again, she was babbling about fuzziness being inappropriate.
“But Buffy really liked this sweater, she even borrowed it once—sure it was in a purely temperature related instance but she’s worn it… but by that logic I should really wear that top that I got for her but it’s a little shiny and—” she stopped abruptly. “I could actually wear something black, black is traditional! And also choice patrol wear which could be like an homage! Right?”
She launched into a rehash of an old adventure when she had to wear some sort of black corset and be what she called a “doppelvamper” and much as Tara loved the image of Willow in a black leather corset, she knew that Wills was exactly 6 seconds from a meltdown. Desperate to distract her girlfriend, Tara blurted the first thing that came to mind.
“You know this was the first time since its inception that Sunnydale’s population grew,” even as she said it she knew it was a stupid thing to say, but it seemed to pique Willow’s interest. She wrinkled her brow, panic abated for a moment.
“I wonder if that could be the mayor’s whammy that was keeping things standardized,” she said uncertainly. “Like some sort of mystical stopping point?”
Tara arched her eyebrows and waited for Willow to continue.
“Our mayor was a diabolical wannabe hell snake. Or he became one at graduation.”
“Do you have even one high school memory of fluffy kitties and rainbows?”
Will smirked, the first time Tara had seen her be properly playful in weeks. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Tara smiled at her mischievously and pushed a piece of hair behind her girlfriend’s ear. “Wear the sweater. it’s cold out. Warm is good.”
*****
Joyce checked on the chicken for the fourth time. People were due in about a half hour and Dawn had just called to let her know she was riding with Xander and Anya from the shop. She could practically hear the eye roll in the teenager’s voice when Joyce had told her that it would be no trouble to go and collect her.
She knew she was being a little bit over protective and all the books warned her against being a helicopter mom, but she couldn’t really help it.
Still, today was Buffy’s birthday so she was going to do something. The logistics of the dinner party had helped her get through the week and maybe tonight she would be exhausted enough to sleep.
She wondered belatedly if it would be a bad idea to have the whole gang together without the pivotal member, but she dismissed that out of hand. These kids—and they were still little more than kids—were finding ways to cope and maintain the fight against evil that her daughter had championed. The least she could do was cook them a meal.
It was odd, she was actually rather looking forward to hearing their stories of the part of Buffy’s life that Joyce had been hesitant to really understand before. She had stupidly been too scared to hear all the details but oddly now that the worst had happened she wanted to know how her little girl had saved the world a lot.
Buffy Anne Summers, She saved the world a lot. That’s what it read on her grave stone which they had put up in Restfield even without a body to bury.
The chicken was perfect, the mashed potatoes were made, she had salad and an egg plant dish just in case any of them had become vegetarians. She had never met Tara but the girl had a vegetarian-y vibe to her from the stories Dawn told.
Dawnie was her conduit to Buffy's friend now. They still congregated at Rupert's shop and he had given her a job. The Job had really been a god send, it was a good way for the teenager to gain measure of separation form her without any compromise of her safety. The Scobby gang knew better than anyone else what Sunnydale was really like. And while they may not know everything about Dawn, they would protect her no matter what.
Dawn was the key. Key to what, Joyce was still not completely sure, but she remembered that fatefull day Rupert had told her that Dawn was not the daughter she remembered. She had just been notified of Buffy’s passing so her response was not the most graceful moment of her life.
He had told her this incredibly difficult truth and she had slapped him right across his face and yelled: I pushed for 19 hours you don’t tell me that my daughter is not real!
That had quickly devolved into a shouting match.
She had known that Rupert had a backbone, he had to; having worked with Buffy for so long, but she had thought him incapable of such a screaming row and after several “now see here!”'s, he had convinced her to see reason. She could be as angry as she wanted that the mystical forces seemed single out her family more than most, but that didn’t change the fact that Dawn was the Key. And someone from a hell dimension was coming after her so she could live in denial or she could save the world. He had ended the conversation with a terse “I know what Buffy would have done.”
She and Dawn left for Chicago the next day.
There were days when she had wished that she could have just stayed in Chicago, beautiful sunny SoCal days when she constantly had to remind herself that Buffy wasn’t just down at the beach with Riley and her friends. She had thought that maybe being away from the hellmouth would be good for Dawn. But Rupert had convinced her that that was not wise. Dawn needed to be near people who could protect her.
At least it was raining, today.
Joyce checked her watch again and then looked down road willing for Xander’s car to show up, she didn’t care if she wasn’t supposed to hover, What did the books know anyway? She had one daughter who was the chosen one and another who apparently was the Key. She should write her own book.
Joyce smiled ruefully. “Mystical Forces and How they mess with you for dummies” she shook her head, it was a niche market. Maybe she could write it and then give it to the watcher’s council and they could provide it for the next family to have a slayer called.
As if on cue, she saw Rupert’s car come down the road and pull into her driveway. The watcher emerged with a bottle of wine.
She opened the door and invited him in. Wordlessly, of course, the implied welcome had become a standard.
“You’re the first.” She said.
Rupert smiled ruefully as he handed her the bottle of wine. “I’ve no wish to speak ill of youth. But they are almost always late.”
Joyce nodded.
“May I take your coat?”
“Er, yes.” Giles said shrugging out of his jacket and handing it to her. “Odd that this is the weather that we get. Must be some sort of record for Sunnydale.”
“I think it might be.” Joyce said with a smile. she put away the jacket and gestured to the bottle of wine. “Shall I get this started?”
“Please.”
She headed towards the kitchen motioning for him to go into the living room.
“Please let me know if I can help with anything.” Giles called.
“You can help me set the table.” Joyce called back.
They busied themselves with readying the house for the guests. Neither of them felt much like talking and the tasks felt comforting.
Ten minutes later, the door opened and a damp Willow and Tara appeared.
“I can’t think I can remember the last time it was rainy!” Willow exclaimed pulling off her jacket. “Even after everything I've seen I think this is the most unbelievable.”
“Hi, Mrs. Summers,” the taller blonde woman said shyly. “I’m Tara, Thank you for having me.”
“Tara! Of course,” she said accepting the dish the blonde was holding out, homemade brownies. She shared an impressed look with Willow who beamed.
“She made them last night.” Willow said.
“Well, it's very sweet of you." The older woman said beaming at Tara. "I'll put this in the kitchen. Why don’t you girls come inside and have some tea. dinner should be ready any minute.” she said ushering them into the living room and then heading off to the kitchen to check on the food and pour tea.
She could hear Rupert ask them about patrol. She unwrapped the brownies and put them on a plate. Talking about patrol was familliar ground, Giles in the other room talking about the forces of darkness and--she was expecting to round the corner with the plateful of brownies and see Buffy sitting on the couch looking serious and annoyed at the same time. The realization made her stop in her tracks. Maybe having everyone over was not the best idea.
“--cently, I mean, do you think we should be talking to Faith?” Willow’s voice sounded worried.
She had to pull it together.
“Hey! What’s with the long faces! I know we’re late but that’s to be expected right?”
Xander. That was Xander’s voice. Joyce had not even heard the door open. Trying to look causal, she hurried into the living room needing to see Dawn. Who was of course no where to be found.
“ Hey Mrs. S, I wasn’t sure if this was a BYO kind of shindig but-wha?” It took Xander a few second to see the stricken look on her face. He glanced from Willow to Giles and looked confused. "Am I missing something?"
“Dawn?” she managed to say.
“Is she not upstairs?” Rupert asked her. From the look on his face he knew that she was not upstairs.
“She said… Xander…” Joyce could feel herself start to hyperventilate. This was so stupid, she was better than this, there were only a few places that Dawn could be and it was still light out, she just had to pull herself together and tell them. “She said she was coming with Xander.”
Rupert helped her into a chair, Tara handed her a glass of water. She didn’t even remember the girl leaving to get it.
“Dawn left the shop early.” Anya said. “just a little early, I reminded her that she doesn’t get paid for hours she doesn’t work even if her shift says so and that according to rules--”
“Right. Thank you, Anya.”
It barely registered to Joyce that Anya looked relieved to have helped. Rupert was, thankfully, taking over the search.
“I’m calling her cellphone.” Willow informed him.
“Perhaps Xander you can try going to the various places she would be? The mall perhaps? or the Bronze?”
“You got it.”
“She’s not answering should I do a locator spell?”
“I doubt it will come to that, Willow, but ready the ingredients in case?”
“She could also be in one of the many restaurants in town, I have heard her speak to her friend Janice on occasion, they seem to be very close because she comes to visit Dawn all the time at the shop and she doesn’t ever buy anything…”
Joyce sat there trying to articulate what was going on, but her heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to jump out of her chest. her throat was dry and she tried to make herself take a sip of water but she couldn’t make her hand move, it was tingling so much. When she did manage it, it was shaking so hard that the water sloshed out of the glass.
“Joyce, are you alright?”
She could hear Giles but it felt like he was happening a long way away, she couldn’t make herself think of the things Dawn might be doing, she wanted to help. She wanted it so badly, but she couldn’t shake her thoughts away from all the terrible things that could be happening to her.
“That is a stupid question, Giles, clearly she is having an attack of some sort.” Anya’s matter of fact voice cut through the din. The blonde former demon was surprisingly calm in the midst of crisis. “I have some news that might be able to take your mind of of this. Xander and I--”
“Not now, Ahn!”
“I’m trying to help.”
“Joyce, can you hear me?”
Her ears weren’t ringing or anything but she couldn’t make herself answer.
“Uhm, Will?”
“Mrs. Summers?” It was Willow’s voice now. “Mrs. Summers! Joyce!”
She turned and she knew that Willow and Tara were standing there, but she only registered Dawn who was standing there looking petulant.
“What? What is the big? Why is everyone freaking out?”
There was no one else in the room but Dawn in that moment and Joyce wasn’t sure if she wanted to strangle her hug her or throw her in her room and bolt the window closed. She might do all three. And Dawn was looking at her like she was the one who was crazy.
“Dawn Summers, you never do that again!” she said trying to catch her breath. “do you understand me? You know you are supposed to tell me where you are! or answer your phone!”
“It was in my bag! God, what’s your damage?”
“Dawn,”
“Maybe we should let you guys talk by yourselves for a while?” Willow’s voice was small.
“No” Joyce said firmly, a few good breaths made her feel much better. Dawn was acting out. The books told her very clearly what she should do about that. She was not going to let her make a big stink. That’s would only encourage her. She gave Dawn a glare that said very clearly that she was not off the hook and they would be having words later. “I’m sure dinner is ready now so Let’s just eat.”
There rest of the dinner went without a hitch. Oddly enough, it was Tara who managed to break through the huge tension luge that was going twisty turny through the dining room.
They were all sitting quietly starting on the buttered peas, when suddenly Tara burst out.
“Soisittruethatyourmayorturnedintoagiantsnake?”
More silence.
“What was that?”
“I j-just, I read this thing about the uh, Sunnydale Population growing and W-w-willow told me that your Mayor was a snake?”
They stared for a few seconds and then Willow spoke up looking grateful.
"Yeah, I was just telling her about when he became a snake, you remember?" she said. “We blew up the school.”
“Really?” Tara asked.
“The Mayor was going to turn into a pure demon. Actually, he did and he ate the principal. Which was all with the badness--actually the eating of the principal was maybe not the worst thing ever. OW!” Xander said after flinching, from where Willow had kicked him under the table. There was another short lull and then Xander spoke again. “but if you want a good story, you know once we used a rocket launcher to kill a demon.”
“Get out!” Dawn exclaimed. “no one every tells me anything cool! When was that?”
“That was the er, the Judge.” Giles said with a faint smile. “That was quite the accomplishment.”
“That was Buffy’s 16th birthday.”Joyce said slowly. Everyone paused and looked tense again everyeone worried about the silence that felt like a stifling blanket. “Who’s idea was that?”
They all visibly relaxed.
“That would be me.” Xander said. “but you know, it was them who figured out the “no weapon forged thing." apparently the Judge couldn't be killed by a forged weapon. So we had to not forge one.”
“It was a good plan.” Anya said proudly. “I wasn’t there, though, that was before me. I was still a demon then. I think I was at--”
“Maybe we don’t talk about your demon past, Ahn?”
“This is so lame. I never get to know anything.” Dawn grumbled.
“You didn’t want to know about that one, Dawnie, it was actually kind boring once we set it in motion. and it was ooky. So many guts. There were definitely better demons.”
“Better demons?”
“Once we had to fight this demon and Giles mis-translated something and it turned out to be really weenie. That was funny.”
“The spiders and stuff before that, though were not.” Xander spoke up.
“All that world ending and you’re afraid of spiders?” Dawn said starting to giggle. Next to her, Willow started to giggle and then Tara and then Anya. Soon they were all laughing.
“Spiders have too many legs!” Xander said trying to be heard over all the mirth. “And most of them are poisonous! Not everything is mystical you know! Anya is afraid of Bunnies!!”
That just made them all laugh harder. That started a few rounds of stories and the chicken slowly disappeared and after a few more anecdotes that Joyce was only half listening to she caught Rupert’s eye and gestured towards the kitchen.
“I need to tell her.” She said once they were safely out of ear short of the Scoobies.
Giles looked stricken.
“Joyce, You musn’t act rashly, I understand that this is a difficult situation--"
“She has no idea and I need her to know so she won’t do things like this!”
“She’s a teenager and if you try and hover--”
“Don’t you dare, Rupert. If I tell her she would understand why we are so worried about her.”
“If you tell her she’ll do all the things that a regular teenager does and she will have to deal with her origins story which is not something a grieving girl needs to handle.” Rupert said reasonable.
Joyce narrowed her eyes at him.
“I know this is difficult Joyce, But imagine being told that you aren’t who you thought you were, moreover, you are a creation of monks. Do you really think this is what she needs right now?”
Joyce exhaled slowly and looked miserable.
“I can’t just keep lying to her.” She said.
“And I wouldn’t advocate that.” he said. he peeked through the swinging door. “But this is a special circumstance.We'll tell her soon.”
Joyce sighed. “Fine. Protecting her right? There should be a damn book for this.”
“If you find one, get me a copy.”
*****
“Well, it’s very sunny and I’m beginning to find that tedious.” There was a pause. It was good to hear from No. 9. From the sounds of it, they were actually taking the idea of laying low to heart. Raj had moved out of his parents home and was using it as some sort of side income while “renting” a mews cottage from a wealthy member of the peerage. He received updates every few days through channels opened and encrypted by Raj. “Right, I should be going. I am working on it.”
Wesley clicked the phone off and smiled faintly, It was odd how easily he had fallen into step with Spike and Buffy, how quickly they had found their stride. He couldn’t help but notice how Angel Investigations was quiet without Angel--which was odd since he was technically the proprietor.
He must have looked very pensive because when he glanced up from his desk he saw his only female employee arching a questioning eyebrow. Although Cordelia always managed to turn it into a demanding eyebrow.
“And who are you talking to? You're accent's gone all BBC and you are distinctly less quivery and self-conscious as you get when you are phoning the homecountry.”
“Contact with the health department.” Wes answered smoothly. "She has a thing for costume dramas."
Cordy nodded, semi-impressed. “Apocalypses aside asbestos is what we’re really worried about?”
“Mock all you like, this hotel is not exactly the paragon of asbestos free virtue, I wouldn’t put it passed Wolfram and Hart to exploit petty technicality.”
“That’s whole new level of evil.” Gunn said as he finished sharpening a new axe. “Any new visions? This baby could use a test drive.”
“You know you would be enjoying the reprieve from the powers too if you had the visions that feel like hot lava was being poured into your head. Anyway we have important things to deal with, like Who’s turn it is to set the traps.”
Wesley and Gunn simultaneously pointed to each other. “His turn!”
Cordy rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You were just asking me to have a vision so you could axe up a hell beast and you were just waxing poetic about the importance of keeping this place free from lease examining lawyers.”
“Man, I hate rats!” Gunn said. “With their beady little eyes and weird little whooshy tails. Gimme a demon any day.”
“Fine! I have to do everything around here, I have to have the visions, I have to set the rat traps, If only my friends back in Sunnydale could see me now.” She got up and headed towards the basement. “Seriously, Cordelia can get a man to do anything for her, sheyah as long as it doesn’t involve any rats because men are such babies ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHH!”
Gunn and Wes were halfway across the foyer before they saw what Cordy was screaming about.
“You’re back! You guys! he’s back!”
They were doing the reunion thing, Wesley held back, watching Angel. A lot of the stories that he had heard from Spike didn’t really reconcile with this Angel that Wesley knew, but he found himself becoming more and more wary of his friend. But then he could never have said no to a Murshan Dynasty dagger.
“How’s Fred?”
“Great!” Cordy said brightly.
“Still hasn’t come out of her room?”
“We send up a lot of Tacos.”
Angel nodded thoughtfully and then swept upstairs to speak to Fred. The three of them watched him go. Cordy looked faintly annoyed.
“God, you’d think he’d wait a second before becoming all dark hero-y maybe we had updates! Maybe I just had a vision and we’re working on case, but no, Dark and Broody has to go be dark and broody at Fred until she comes out. For someone who says he doesn’t like the idea of being her knight in shining armour--”
Wes had stopped listening to her, he had recently felt a little detached from the goings on in LA, but perhaps it was just because they had been on small jobs since he had come back from England. He glanced up after Angel, maybe that twinge of jealousy was the natural deference of every to Angel as the leader or maybe it was because he was up there sweeping Fred off her barely grounded feet.
******
“Why can’t we tell them?” Anya demanded of him as they were driving back to their apartment from 1630 Revello. “It’s happy news!”
Xander sighed exasperatedly. “Ahn, remember when you told me that I should stop making social cues and just tell you stuff? Well, Buffy’s Birthday dinner was not the time to tell anyone that we’re getting married.”
She looked at him skeptically.
“We’ll tell them. Just, not right when everything is so tense. Not when we’re worried about Dawn or when we’re mourning Buffy. All of it points to it just wasn’t a good time.”
“When is a good time?”
“Almost anytime else.”
Anya let out a frustrated breath.
“Xander I never thought I would be looking forward to this human rite of passage.” She said slowly. “but I am. And I want to get started.”
“We’ll tell them soo--What the?”
Xander stopped short, there was a motorcycle gang rolling through the main street of Sunnydale. And not even one of them looked like a regular Hell’s Angel. Even from inside the car he could hear the frenzied shouts of “The Slayer is gone! The Hellmouth is ours!”
“We need to get to Giles’s right now.”
*****
Giles placed his newly polished glasses back on his nose. “At least a dozen of them you say?”
Xander nodded.
“I was worried that talk of Buffy’s-- er--disappearance would provoke something like this.”
“What do we do, Giles?” Willow asked. “We can’t get Faith out of prison. I really thought that the Watcher’s council would be able to expedite that process.”
“This entire situation is unprecedented, Willow, and the Council has never been the most responsive group even in the best of times. We’re going to have to do something to convince the hoard that the slayer is alive and well, perhaps that would dissuade them.”
“We could use a spell!” Willow said perking up instantly. “I saw this interesting on in a book I was reading the other day about a blanket illusion.”
“A blanket illusion is a highly complicated spell, Willow, That would entail channeling a lot of raw power.”
“I don’t see what choice we have, Giles.” She said somberly. “and I’ve done something a little like this before. I've channeled serious magicks.”
There was a pause. They all remembered Angelus’s reign of terror over Sunnydale and Willow was a lot less powerful then.
“Go into battle with no secret weapon but Willow’s whammy.” Xander said. “I’m in.”
“Well, it it doesn’t just have to be me,” Willow said looking nervous. “Do we still have that rocket launcher? We can do the shock and awe thing.”
“I hesitate to resort to aid from the US army.”
“I can still work it.” Xander said. "We just need to hold them off."
“And we can use the blanket illusion to make it look like Buffy is bringing on the damage.”
There was an odd electricity in the room, a purpose that hadn’t been there over the last few months. as the plan came together, The Scooby gang worked like a the unit they had been in the past. Giles studied Willow closely, she had her resolve face on. Xander looked determined, even Anya and Tara seemed ready to help wherever they could.
“Very well,” he said. “Let’s get started then.” He strode over to the kitchen and took an envelope off the counter. “ First things first, I will contact the council. We need a slayer on the hellmouth, we are not letting it fall.”
"Not on our watch!" Willow agreed.
"Or on theirs because this is technically supposed to be their job!" Anya piped in.
"That's the spirit, Ahn."
There was something about coming together to face an impossible enemy that made them all forget the Buffy shaped hole in the universe for just a second and that was why no one seemed to notice that Willow was just a little too excited to attempt a spell that was, for accounts and purposes, far beyond her ability. No one except Tara, but she was so happy to just see her Girlfriend working and functioning again that she was able to ignore the niggling feeling that that was a bad idea.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Hi... I'm so sorry that this took so long, it's just I had a hard time cutting through it and going back to it when I just want to write Spuffy smut, But this chapter needed to happen. The next one will be up soon I promise. Whew! Writing downtime is so much harder than crazy action scenes! Enjoy!
Chapter End Notes:
What do you think? We are going to do another quick CA chapter soon, but more Spuffy before that I promise.