He's Back - Chapters Seventeen to finish by Lisa

HE'S BACK
Chapters Seventeen to Finish
by Lisa

http://www.crosswinds.net/~lisay/buffy.htm

Chapter Seventeen

The first thing he did was rape her.

There was no fake seduction or feeble attempts to force her to enjoy it. No, it was definitely of the wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am category—minus her readiness.

Buffy silently wondered if she would ever be able to enjoy sex again.

God, if she hadn't talked to Xander and Spike or had those dreams, that act alone might've broken something inside of her.

Luckily for her, it didn't.

But when she saw those cold, demon eyes of his—piercing hers—filled with lust, hatred, anger and a desperate need to control and dominate—Buffy finally 'got it.' She now knew why Xander hated Angel so much after last spring.

Before, when she saw Angel, she saw goodness, love, safety, security—and when she saw Angelus, it was his cruelty—sheer evil-ness that haunted her.

But she could always separate them. Unfortunately, she wouldn't ever be able to say that again.

And how could she?

The same cock that had broken through her hymen with infinite tenderness and love was the same one that was driving her so hard into the concrete floor, it was a wonder her bones hadn't broken under his abuse.

Those same lips that had kissed away her tears and her fears for over two years were the same ones that bit, sucked and nibbled her entire body until she was covered with bruises and bite marks.

The same voice that had whispered loving tidbits in her ear was the same one that continually berated her and cut into her soul with his words.

God damnit, she hated him.

She hated him with every fiber of her being and just kept praying that he would slip up and kill her accidentally—forgetting about his promises to hand her over to Dru once he was finished.

Unfortunately, God wasn't listening.

He let her live.

And then the fun really began.

Angelus had just lifted himself off her when Dru danced across the room and stood above Buffy, giggling softly.

"My Angel gave the naughty slayer lots of pretty colors, didn't he Faith?"

Buffy's eyes shut as she heard the other slayer snort deprecatively. "Yeah, Dru, he sure did."

Then Dru flittered across the room and Buffy heard the sound of chains rattling and falling. Here it comes, she thought to herself, remembering her dream of being chained and whipped. At least this means the end is near.

"Faith, bring her over here," Dru commanded.

Buffy opened her eyes to see Druscilla, the once-consort of Spike—Buffy's Spike—standing there, waiting impatiently by a handful of chains that were dangling from the ceiling.

That is where I'm going to die, Buffy thought to herself as she felt a warm pair of hands grab her arms and lift her easily off the ground. She looked up at Faith and frowned, suddenly unsure of her earlier hatred for the other slayer. It wasn't anything Faith had said or done—it was more like a feeling that Buffy was getting from her and had gotten from her since she had walked over to the slayer's car earlier that day; Faith did not want to be there anymore than Buffy did. And if Buffy could believe what Faith had said earlier—her sister-in-arms had also been experiencing the wonders of slayer's dreams as well.

Maybe, for what it was worth, those damn Powers That Be, set all this up in motion for something greater to happen. Something more important than Buffy or Faith's lives. More important than Xander's mortal life or Angel's existence. More important than Hank Summers' life...

God, wouldn't that be nice, she thought to herself as Faith began snapping the shackles around her wrists and ankles. As Buffy heard each latch click, she imagined hearing the sound of a gun cocking and shuddered, unable to ignore the similarities.

Because, in a lot of ways, that's what these chains were to her—a loaded pistol fated to go off...

It wasn't until she felt the first slash of agonizing pain crash across her body, centering on her back, that she realized Faith had stepped back and Druscilla was starting the second part of the plan to destroy Buffy Summers: her torture.

As the pain washed through her body, Buffy swore to herself she would not succumb to its helplessness.

She would not allow him to beat her in that way.

She couldn't, because if she did, than he won so much more than just her hope—he won it all.

~~~

Willow sighed softly as she once again ran the cold cloth over Spike's fevered skin.

For nearly two hours, she and Joyce had continually stood watch over the vampire—hoping beyond hope that he would awake in time to save Buffy from Angelus.

But as the minutes wore on, Willow's faith began to falter, knowing that the longer Buffy remained in Angelus' hands, the less chance she had of surviving.

If the vampire was pissed off at Buffy a year ago for having Angel's memories of their love, Willow could imagine the rage he felt against the slayer for sending him to hell under the soul's tutelage.

It would be endless.

Which meant, in turn, that Buffy's death would be as painful as her dreams showed it would be.

It just wasn't right, Willow thought. Wasn't it written somewhere that the good guys always prevail and evil always gets put in its place? Although the last three years hadn't always proven that theory true to the letter, it did seem to be the overall theme of their lives. Buffy always seemed to win—when push came to shove. She succeeded against this same vampire that Willow was tending to now numerous times in the past—pushing him far enough back that the good would equal out the bad.

And with Angelus? In the end, Buffy came up on top against him as well—sending him and his soul straight to Hell when the demon tried opening the portal through Acathla.

Biting her bottom lip, Willow closed her eyes against her tears.

"Why?" she whispered. "Why did she do it?"

"She loves us, that's why Willow," Mrs. Summers whispered as she caressed the vampire's blond locks. "And my baby has always followed her heart."

Willow dropped the rag into the water bowl and reached over Spike to squeeze the woman's arm. "She must've had a good teacher."

The older woman's eyes—clouded with tears—met Willow's as a small smile curled her lips. "Thank you, Willow. I just hope I have more time to teach her other things as well."

Withdrawing her hand, Willow nodded and stood up—suddenly feeling the need to move. She looked out over the empty library and felt something inside her crack.

It wasn't until much later did Willow realize that it had been her heart that had been broken that night.

The young hacker-witch grew up.

~~~

"So, did my Spike make you come, Slayer?" Dru asked, whispering in her ear.

Buffy bit her bottom lip and forced herself not to respond.

"I see his mark on you—right above my Angel's," the vampire paused for a moment and Buffy felt her cool tongue lap at both pairs of holes. Buffy shuddered, feeling her stomach turn in response. "I like my Daddy's better. It's brighter and has much more color. Would you like another set? Then you'll be marked by all three of us. Um?"

Fuck you, Buffy silently chanted at Dru. Angelus and you may 'mark' my skin, but Spike's got my heart...

"Slayer blood—so potent and full of life—isn't it, my Angel?"

A soft chuckle echoed through the room. "Aye, it sure is, Dru. Especially Buff's. It's so noble and heart wrenching, don't you think?" Buffy lifted her head to see him growl playfully in Faith's ear.

The other slayer was sitting in his lap while Angelus had his hand up her shirt, tweaking her nipples.

Buffy watched as Faith whimpered lustily, pushing her breast into his hand while leaning her head down on his shoulder, crooked over to the side to give the vampire easy access to her neck.

Buffy wasn't the only slayer who was marked—as if the collar wasn't enough to show the world who actually owned Faith—the bite marks were.

Angelus' cold eyes met hers as his hand slid down Faith's stomach to the vee in between her legs. Buffy heard the rustling of clothes falling to the floor behind her and mentally prepared herself for the second leg of Dru's torture. Not even a minute later, a pale, feminine hand slipped around Buffy's body and cupped her breast, cool fingers pinching her nipple in time with Angelus' hand.

Faith moaned loudly as she watched Dru's hand, pressing herself into Angelus' hand while the vampire began nibbling on the dark-haired slayer's neck—careful not to draw blood.

"Naughty slayer has pretty breasts," Dru whispered right before sucking on her earlobe.

Buffy bit her bottom lip as she concentrated on the painful throbbing of the wounds on her back—desperate not to respond to Dru's ministrations.

The blond slayer's number one erogenous zone was her ears and Buffy just knew that Angelus had imparted that little bit of knowledge to the vampiress.

Tears ran freely down her face as she began shaking her head in denial. Of all the things to happen to her now, this had to be the worst. Not only was she being beaten, but treated as a sexual toy by a female vampire...

Buffy had never been with a female before.

"If I make you come, pet, will you cry all those pretty tears for me?" Dru asked in between sucking her neck. Buffy felt her nipples harden as a rush of heat flooded her system. "Will that break you, um? It did me—when Daddy made me come at the convent...all those nice nuns in pretty little pieces and beautiful bright colors all around us as he hurt me and pleasured me..." Growling softly, Buffy heard the vampiress face change and wasn't surprised to feel the prick of a fang as she scratched her shoulder. "All that pain—in my heart and my body and all that pleasure..." Dru's free hand slipped down Buffy's stomach, gently caressing her as her chilled tongue lapped at the small wounds on the slayer's shoulders. "Daddy taught me well, didn't he?" she asked as her fingers slipped down to Buffy's sex and teased her outer lips.

Moaning, Buffy shook her head in denial as she felt herself getting wet. None of her dreams ever warned her of this. She was prepared to die, even painfully so, but this? Never.

Opening her eyes, she looked across the room and met Faith's lust-filled gaze. In the short amount of time that Buffy had closed her eyes, Angelus had stripped the other slayer of her leather pants and now had Faith sitting on his lap with his prick buried deep inside of her. As the vampire lifted the slayer up and down on him, Faith played with her clit, moaning loudly as her body became flushed signaling that she was close to coming.

"Oh God—just kill me all ready," Buffy whispered as she tried wiggling out of the vampiress' grasp.

A loud growl filled Buffy's hearing as Dru pinched her clit, causing Buffy to cry out in pain. "Death is too easy for you, nasty slayer," Dru said softly as her tongue teased her neck. "I want you to suffer like I did when you took my daddy and my Spike away." The vampiress fangs pressed against Buffy's throat, teasing her as her tormentor began to softly tug on the slayer's nipple. Minutes passed as Dru lazily tickled Buffy's sore and throbbing sex—causing the slayer to whimper as her arousal grew.

Buffy knew the moment she had lost the battle that Dru had been waging, when she found herself pressing her neck into Dru's waiting mouth. She wanted the vampiress to drink from her, despite the danger to herself, to her soul and to everything that Buffy had ever stood for.

But then Buffy had walked into the battle already on the losing side; she knew how pleasurable a vampire bite could be having been the recipient of one from both Angel and Spike. Unfortunately, that's what Dru had been counting on.

"Not yet, my sweets. My Angel wants to taste you first."

Seconds from causing Buffy to climax, Dru stepped back from the slayer, leaving her wanting. Needing that little death and all those little and big deaths that came with it.

A loud groan quickly followed by Faith's scream as the other slayer reached her fufillment echoed damningly throughout the room. Buffy's eyes shot open, suddenly knowing deep inside of her that she was already damned when Dru stepped into her line of sight propping the whip on her shoulder, with her other hand behind her back.

Breathing heavily, Buffy lifted her head and met the vampiress' cold demon eyes—forcing herself not to flinch at the hate she saw there. Growling, the vampire lifted her arm holding the whip back and grinned as she brought the thin, leather material down with supernatural strength—slicing the same breast that the vampire had teased only minutes before.

Buffy didn't even notice that she had bitten through her lip as she forced herself not to scream.

As Buffy hung in chains, Dru grabbed her hair and lifted her head. "Now, now, now—no hiding, nasty slayer—at least not until I show you my surprise," she said, giggling. "Do you want to see it now?"

Buffy said nothing; knowing that any answer she gave Druscilla would be wrong.

Dru grinned as she brought her hand out from her back and held it out in front of Buffy—waving the achingly familiar weapon in front of her face.

The blond slayer felt something die inside.

Of all the things for the vampire to choose to bring on Buffy's death—why did it have to be this one? As her eyes studied the rustic, black metal stained with dry, flaky old blood—tears ran down her cheeks. The bitch—how dare she bring him in here in this room with them. He had made his choice—left his toys of torture and pain home and joined Buffy...

How dare she bring Spike into this.

"You bitch," Buffy whispered as her eyes blinked the tears away. "Is that for me? Or are you trying to give him some sort of message when he finds my dead body?"

Dru just smiled coyly as she ran the metal across Buffy's stomach, marking her with the rust and other sediments that flaked off the spike. "I remember when my Spike first used this—so much rage—his demon loved to scare all those poor, weak humans—he was so beautiful...covered in all that blood...causing all that pain."

Buffy felt her chest constrict as she sobbed—unable to stop herself from crying out loud as Dru's intent became clear. How many nights did Buffy lay awake after hearing about Spike's love of this weapon, did she wonder if this was how she would die? Something so instinctual—that seemed to permeate everything that Buffy was—recoiled at the thought. It was one thing to die in battle—or by a set of fangs or broken neck, but another thing to be used as a pin cushion for a railroad spike.

And now that she let that same vampire into her heart—the idea that his former consort would use his favorite weapon on Buffy—darkened everything Buffy and Spike had shared.

Buffy didn't even realize she was screaming his name as Dru impaled her foot with it.

But then, by that time, Buffy wasn't too aware of anything—except the pain.

The pain in her heart and in her body was always there.

~~~

As soon as Spike felt the world darken around him, he intuitively knew what was happening to him. He was 'evolving' as Whistler put it.

Although the short demon hadn't elaborated on the specific powers that went with Spike's spoken allegiance with the Gray Council, he had heard things—seen things in his 200 years that gave him some inkling as to what was going to happen.

He just didn't think it was going to happen so soon and right in the middle of a crisis. Every fiber in his being screamed that he had to wake up and find Buffy—to stop her from turning herself over to Angelus—no matter what prophecy or the Council or anyone said. Wasn't it his feelings—his ability to love that made him so desirable to the Gray Council in the first place? If that were true, why would they risk Spike's loyalty by taking away the one person that guaranteed his allegence?

< But is that so? > a strange, melodic voice whispered in his mind. < Even if you lose her or even your existence now—you'd still be here—in front of us—eventually. >

< It is written. So shall it be, > another voice boomed. This being had a definite male quality to it.

< She must do this, my child, > yet another voice whispered in his mind. < Balance demands it. >

< Demands what? That she die? > Spike yelled, spinning crazily around in the mists of his mind. < Bloody hell, people—she's seventeen fucking years old— >

< She's the slayer. > The booming voice stated.

< Well, fuck me, do fucking tell! >

< He's angry, > the first voice sang—her voice so sad, it nearly hurt Spike to hear it.

< He's a demon. >

The booming voice again.

The bloody prick's getting on me last nerve, Spike thought to himself as he glared through the mist. < Yeah, I'm angry—you would be too if your unlife had been turned upside down like mine has in the last few— >

< William, these things are not always in our hands...just like you, we have to wait and hope. The Slayers know what they must do. We must trust them...you must trust her... > the third voice said quietly and calmly.

Growling, Spike clenched his jaw as his eyes shut in frustration. Always talking in riddles and never giving a bloke a straight answer—is this where Peaches' got his cryptic act from?

< Just ask, William and we will tell you. >

Reading my mind now—fucking wankers, he thought to himself as a dozen questions flooded his mind. Like what exactly was the slayer's plan? What were they supposed to do? Why did Buffy have to depend on the other slayer—when she was the one that had brought this all on herself? Everything seemed so turned around as if he was a player in a hastily written play—almost as if no one knew how the events led them to where they were now. Like him leaving Druscilla. Only one thing in the world would pull him away from his Dark Princess—and that was Angelus. And by him leaving Dru, a whole other world of possibilities all beginning and ending with Buffy had opened. Spike would've never pursued the slayer in any other circumstances except those that had happened.

Groaning, Spike mentally took a deep breath and asked his questions—fearing the answers almost as much as the unknown. But he had to know—and this was his chance.

And as the entities answered each one—a hot, searing pain sliced into his whole body—branding him—

It wasn't until he awoke, that he realized how high the price had been for those answers, as his body sang in pain.

Spike hadn't felt this bad since the organ had fallen on top of him.

"Bloody pricks," he whispered, his eyes meeting Joyce's frantic ones. He forced his hand up—reaching for hers. Grasping her hot and sweaty palm in his, Spike gave it a small squeeze. "We have to trust them, Joyce," he managed to whisper before passing out again.

~~~

As Buffy hung in her chains—her body long ago surrending to the pain—she wondered how much longer Angelus would let Dru play before they both finally gave in to their demons and drained her.

She was actually looking forward to it.

Inwardly chuckling, she allowed herself to float away—and idly wondered when she'd learned the art of astral projection. Maybe it was a slayer thing, she thought to herself as she looked down at her battered, broken and bloodied body. Or maybe it was just her imagination—taking her some place where Dru wasn't standing in front of her—licking Buffy's body as if it were an ice cream cone—cleaning the blood off of Buffy with a type of glee that only a vampire would possess. Angelus had come and gone periodically—tweaking a nipple here—bringing Buffy to the verge of an orgasm there—but he always returned to Faith—almost as if he feared she would run away.

Buffy looked across the room at Faith and suddenly found herself flying across the room and hovering beside the napping slayer. Even as she reached out her hand—not nearly as surprised at its ghostly appearance as she should be—Buffy wondered why she kept finding herself drawn to the other slayer.

All night—even while Faith was screaming in pleasure—there had been something in the dark-haired slayer's eyes that called to Buffy—begging her to trust Faith. It was almost as if they were saying, 'I have a plan, B—it might not be much—and neither of us may make it out alive—but they will die.'

Buffy took more comfort in that look than she had ever thought possible—considering how horrid the last couple of months had been with the other slayer.

A plan, she thought to herself as her hand squeezed the other slayer's arm. Come on, Faith. If I can astral project—you can wake up, she silently chanted as her hand slipped through the slayer's body.

Faith shuddered, her eyes flickering as Buffy heard her whisper, "B."

< Yep, its me, > Buffy thought to herself as she looked around—suddenly realizing she wasn't in the main room but somewhere else—somewhere familiar.

Buffy found herself chuckling when she recognized the setting. She was standing in Renfield cemetery. < Faith? >

< Right behind you, girlfriend. >

Buffy turned around and met the other girl's sad eyes. < We're in your dream, aren't we? >

Faith nodded as she grinned. < I've always liked this place...quiet and peaceful. I used to come here after patrolling and just sit. >

< So did I, > Buffy said, leaning against a headstone as she studied the other slayer. The clothes were the same, but here, in Faith's mind, she seemed much more relaxed and less angry. This was the Faith that Buffy had come to love. The girl that Faith hid underneath all the pain and distrust. Buffy instantly felt herself relax, intuitively trusting this girl—knowing on an instinctual level that here—in Faith's mind and heart, they were on the same side. Sighing softly, Buffy gave the other slayer a small smile. < So, Faith—what's the plan? >

Faith's face darkened as she turned and looked away. < They're going to drain you—and probably soon. You may not remember—but I had to step out earlier. The Mayor called, > Faith paused, shrugging, as she pursed her lips.

< What are you talking about? >

< Didn't your dreams tell you? >

Buffy frowned, shaking her head. < No, they didn't tell me how—just what needed to happen. That if I turned myself over to Angelus, that my soul as well as everyone else's would be safe. At least for now. >

Faith nodded as she took in everything that Buffy had said. She began to pace in front of Buffy—almost as if she was reluctant to tell her the rest of the plan. She stopped and took a deep breath and faced Buffy. < They probably didn't tell you the how because they knew you wouldn't follow through with the plan if you knew it, > Faith admitted as she nibbled on her bottom lip. < While Angelus and Dru are busy with you—I'll shoot them with the gun—slice one of them open and force you to drink from them— >

< Faith! I don't want to be a vampire! >

she whispered. Suddenly Faith walked up to her and clasped Buffy's shoulder's, forcing her to look Faith in the eyes. < And I don't want to die, B—but that's what's going to happen, > she said as she shrugged. < It's what was destined to happen the moment the Mayor and I stole Angel's soul from him. I realize that now. All week I've been trying to figure out how to get out of this—but it's impossible—because there's no other way. Hell in Sunnydale is one thing—Hell on Earth is a whole different story and that's what's going to happen if we don't do this exactly the way I say— >

Buffy opened her mouth to protest when she felt a cool metal slice into her leg. Gasping, she fell over and saw the ethereal red liquid slip out of her leg.

Faith kneeled down beside her, her hand caressing Buffy's hair. < Looks like you need to go back, B. Your soul needs to be in your body for this thing to work. >

Groaning, Buffy nodded as her other leg jerked in pain. Gritting her teeth, she straightened it and saw a long, deep knife wound on her thigh. She looked up at Faith and gave her a small smile. < See ya in the afterlife, Faith. >

Faith cupped Buffy's face with both of her hands. < You won't be there if I have any say about it, > she said as Buffy felt her mind being tugged back to her body.

Not even a minute later, Buffy was back in her body as the two vampires began their last round in playing with 'the naughty slayer.'

This time, there would be no reprieves. Buffy could feel her death in her soul.

Chapter Eighteen

They didn't even hear her leave.

Faith ignored the stab of jealously that snuck its way into her heart as she quietly stepped outside and ran to her car. It was like a little chant in her head, reminding herself that was how she got everyone in this position in the first place—allowing her envy of the other slayer to darken everything else—and she opened the car door. Reaching over the front side seat, she tugged on the blanket that covered the gun. Tossing it over to the side, she grabbed the gun, slid open the dart chamber and popped open the glove department. A minute later the gun was loaded, cocked and she had a handful of darts in her coat pocket.

Turning off the overhead light, she left the car door open and ran back into the house, slipping through the still-open front door. Quietly placing the gun behind the door, she shrugged off her coat and dropped it on top of the weapon then peeked inside the room.

The two vampires were still raping the other slayer; Buffy's whimpers of pain-induced pleasure sent chills down Faith's spine. Tugging on her leather collar, Faith promised herself she would get the key to unlock the damn thing before she dusted Angelus.

She would not die with a slave collar on her neck.

A loud growl broke her thoughts as Faith heard Angelus sink his fangs into Buffy's neck. Dru's own purr of satisfaction soon followed. Stepping back, Faith reached behind her and grabbed her coat and the gun.

Picking the weapon up, she aimed for Angelus'—knowing that if she didn't take him out first, she would never have the courage to follow through with the plan. The vampire's hold on Faith was nearly unbreakable; only Faith's desire to see the world continue gave her strength to fight against him.

That, and knowing that she too would die soon.

Buffy's eyes fluttered open, meeting Faith's from between the two dark-haired creatures that were feeding from her, and blinked her hazel eyes once at the slayer. Faith nodded, aimed once again and fired three shots at Angelus. Before he even fell, Faith took out Dru as well.

Now comes the fun part, she thought to herself as she reloaded the gun and pulled out two stakes, sticking them in the back of her pants. She went over to the table where Dru and Angelus had laid out all their 'toys' and grabbed two more sets of chains and slung them over her shoulder.

"How you doing, B?" she asked as she walked over to the other slayer.

"Peachy," Buffy whispered, her voice so soft that Faith knew if she hadn't been the slayer, she wouldn't have heard her. "Hurry Faith—th—they took—so—so much."

Seeing the blonde's near-death like complexion, Faith couldn't help but agree. "Watch Dru, will you? Tell me if she even blinks. I need to chain them up before we do this."

"'Kay."

Still keeping the gun pointed at the vampire, she knelt down beside him and turned him over onto his back. After nudging a few times, Faith took a deep breath and placed the gun behind her. Inwardly praying he wasn't playing possum, she tugged on one chain set and pulled it off her shoulder, letting it drop to the floor. With each snap of the shackles, Faith felt a bit of her self-respect return. By the time he was somewhat immobilized, Faith felt a wave of relief sweep through her body.

Free, she thought to herself. At least, I'll die free.

Grabbing the gun, she scooted over to Druscilla and repeated the same action with her as she did with Angelus. She knew she should just stake the vampiress, but as she stared at the beautiful, but deranged vampiress, Faith couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her and found that she didn't have it in her to kill Dru. Nearly a hundred and forty years before, this young woman had found herself the object of Angelus' affections. Her innocence and gentle nature had been snatched away and replaced with a darkness that Faith had only tasted.

But Faith could've been Dru.

Never again would she judge those who fell under someone else's control.

Hopefully, Buffy would do what Faith found that she couldn't and kill the mad vampiress.

Shaking her head, she looked up at Buffy and sighed softly. Although not dead, the other slayer was approaching her end much more quickly than Faith would have liked. Standing up, she undid the shackles that held the slayer and gently laid her down beside Angelus.

Reaching into her boot, she pulled out her dagger—taken from a demon nearly a year before—and before she could even begin to doubt her sanity, sliced Angelus' neck open.

"Come on, B," Faith whispered as she lifted the other slayer and positioned her mouth over the vampire's wound. "Suck B—you gotta do it!"

Nothing.

Groaning, Faith picked up Buffy and laid her head down on Faith's lap, noting the other slayer's red-stained lips. Once again, Faith took her dagger and this time sliced Angelus' arm and lifted it over Buffy's mouth—making sure the wound was covering her mouth.

"B—Buffy, you have to do this. Remember—this is what needs to be done. Drink, damnit! Drink!" She yelled at the other slayer, massaging her throat and pressing her lips around the wound.

Faith's eyes filled with tears as the hopelessness of the situation filled her. Buffy was minutes away from dying and if she didn't drink from Angelus, everything that Faith and B had suffered through was for naught.

"Drink," she whispered, bringing her lips down to Buffy's ear. "Girlfriend, listen to me—you have to do this. This is no time for one of your rebellions—just drink, please..."

Faith nearly jumped when she felt the other slayer's throat move.

"Thank you!"

Another swallow nearly thirty seconds later.

And another—maybe twenty seconds later.

Within a minute, Buffy was drinking on her own.

Groaning, Faith moved out from under Buffy and squatted down in front of the pair. Taking a deep breath, preparing herself for a battle, she clasped Angelus' arm and pulled it away from the slayer's mouth.

Buffy's head fell as her eyes opened, focusing on Faith.

Faith's breath stopped as she watched the only person she could truly call a friend die.

~~~

"How is he?" Giles called out the moment he stepped into the library.

Willow ran out of the office and met the watcher, hope apparent in her eyes as she stared at the double doors waiting for everyone to enter.

Giles reached over and squeezed the young woman's shoulder and shook his head. "No, Willow, we didn't find them."

Shutting her eyes against her tears, she nodded and took a deep breath. Once she appeared calm, she looked up and met his questioning glance.

"He's better. He's still hot, but not as hot as he was. I need Xander to make a guestimate as to what a vampire's normal temperature is. He did wake up once for a couple of minutes, and mumbled something about trusting her. We think he was talking about Buffy, and he passed out again."

Giles nodded as he stepped into the office and knelt down beside Joyce and ran his hand over the vampire's forehead. "Xander, could you come here please?"

Xander appeared in the doorway, his eyes falling on Spike's prone body. "I'm here. What do you need, G-Man?"

Giles watched as Willow opened the file cabinet and pulled out the first aid kit. She took out the thermometer and shook it. "Willow's going to take your temperature. It appears that Spike's fever went down, but we aren't actually sure what's normal for a vampire."

Sighing, Xander fell back onto the couch and opened his mouth. Willow slipped the thermometer into his mouth and stepped back.

"I'm going to talk to Oz," she said softly, and disappeared into the other room.

Giles looked over at Joyce and suddenly felt a whole new wave of guilt fill him. "I'm sorry, Joyce. We think Druscilla did a spell to mask their presence. Neither Xander nor Oz could detect their presence anywhere in Sunnydale and yet, we all know they're here—somewhere."

"What about that mansion?"

"It was cleared out. Not even a vampire in sight," said the Watcher.

She caressed Spike's face, ignoring her tears as a small sigh escaped her lips. "Did you know that he and I kept in touch since his last visit?"

Giles shook his head, grateful once again for his 'English' reserve or he might have been sitting there with his mouth gaping open like Xander was.

"Xander—you need to keep your mouth closed for the proper temperature reading," he told the young vampire before he turned his attention back to Joyce. "No, Buffy never said anything."

Joyce chuckled softly. "Buffy didn't know. I kept his phone number at work. I would leave messages on his voicemail and he would call back. We usually talked once a week. I knew that things weren't going very well with him and Druscilla. He tried—the demon way—as he put it—but I knew back then, his heart wasn't it," she said, smiling. "I could tell by the way he reacted everytime Buffy's name would come up—that he was already in love with her. He just didn't know it."

Giles shook his head. "In all my years of studying and researching demons and vampires, no one ever told me that they could go against their very nature. I believed it was impossible. Sure, I knew there were exceptions, but I thought that those exceptions had more to do with the type of demon than their own hearts. When I met Angel two years ago, I didn't even think it was possible for a demon to have a soul. And now I find that not only is it possible, but that a demon's very nature can change with time—just as a human's soul can."

Willow slipped into the office and took the thermometer out of Xander's mouth. After holding it up to the light and squinting, she sighed softly. "It's too low to read on this." She shook her head. "I guess what we can do is take Spike's temperature, and if he gets a reading, we'll know he has a fever."

Giles nodded. "It's the best we can do, Willow."

She handed it to Giles and turned to walk out the door. Suddenly, she stopped. "You know, what he said earlier—about Angelus from before—he loved the old Angelus. The one before he got cursed."

Giles sighed, nodding slowly. "Yes, he did. And why not, he's a demon. Whatever happens tonight, I'm sure that Spike's future is not going to be an easy road. Without a soul, all he's going to have is himself to keep himself in check."

"And me," Xander whispered and suddenly laughed outloud. "Like I could do much, right? But, he's all I've got since the one person that could help me with this is gone forever."

Feeling his knees scream in protest, Giles finally sat back and leaned against the wall. "You'll do fine, Xander. I just hope the same can be said for everyone else."

~~~

Faith didn't even see him coming. She should've known that he wouldn't stay put. One moment she was watching Buffy take her last breath and the next, she was down on the floor, the back of her head bleeding as Angelus draped himself over her—pulling the chain holding his wrists together taut against her throat.

"So Faith, talk to Daddy. Tell him why you betrayed him—"

Faith swallowed hard, despite the chains as her mind began to spin. Shit, shit, shit...what in the hell were you thinking girl, not chaining him up to the wall, girl? God damnit it to hell—a little laziness and cockiness and look what happens. Shit...what to tell him...what to tell him...think quick, girl...or B's gonna be fucked...he'll either stake her or leave her like she is...or...

She blinked her eyes, praying that she still had enough moxy in her to even attempt to manipulate the bastard, and prepared to speak.

"Angelus—let me explain!"

He tightened the chain. "Don't fuck with me, slay-girl. I can easily get another pet," he said, as his fangs nicked her lip.

Her heart scampered out of control as she felt the hot dribble of her blood trickle down her face until he leaned over and licked it slowly. "Faaith," he said in a sing-song voice.

"I—I didn't want it to be—be just me," she whispered, praying that her lie showed, but not the depth of the lie...

What a dangerous game, your playing, Faith, her little voice taunted her.

Angelus tipped his head as he stared at her. "You have a thing for Buffy?" he asked, chuckling softly. "I always had a feeling you went both ways, but Faith! Buffy?" He laughed, his deep voice full of mirth and sarcasm. Shaking his head, his fingers caressed her face until they reached her chin. Suddenly they tightened, causing her to cry out. "Won't work, Faith. The truth."

Tears flooded her eyes as she glanced over at the dead body of her friend. She had to do this—she had to. Her death was imminent—it was the moment they stole Angel's soul away from him...

She shook her head and met his yellow, angry eyes. "You wouldn't believe me."

"Try me. Not that I won't kill you for such a betrayal anyway, but if I like your answer, you may get it easier than her."

Nodding, she forced herself not to flinch as his fingers dug into her skin and continued to stare at his eyes. "I wanted to see what would happen if a slayer was turned. If it worked with her, I thought maybe..." she drifted off, leaving the rest unsaid.

Angelus smiled as his grip on her chin lessened. "Now, that makes sense. Too bad, little girl, you won't get your wish. Slayer's don't turn very well. It's that awful soul of yours. It's very strong and no matter how strong the demon is, they constantly battle one another, leaving the host crazier than a mad-hatter. Makes Dru look like a poster-child for the Level Head Society." He shook his head, dipping it down to her neck and nuzzling her bite marks.

She forced herself not to flinch when his teeth sunk into her neck. All she could do is pray to those fucking Powers that something stopped him before he took too much. She inwardly sighed when he withdrew after only a couple of mouthfuls. Good, she thought to herself, ignoring the fact that she was actually happy that he planned to torture her for a bit longer. Just keep me alive long enough until she rises...

Her eyes shut as exhaustion hit her. She didn't even bother fighting him when he stood up. Instead, she just waited for whatever was going to happen next.

It wasn't until she felt his hand grab her hair and pull her to her feet that she realized she had finally surrendered to her fate—much like Buffy had earlier that day.

See B? We aren't too much different after all? she thought to herself seconds before his fist slammed into her face, knocking her out cold.

~~~

It was her soft sobs that drew him. So many times in the last few days, Spike had heard them and had felt drawn to their source. After two hundred years of walking the earth, causing pain, destruction and death in his wake, it was ironic that one young woman's pain would call to him—touch a part of himself that he had sworn died long before his mortal life had ended.

And even though there had been times in her life, that he had been the cause of that pain, somehow, something had changed. Whether it was her or him, he didn't know.

All he knew was that he needed to be there for her.

Walking through the darkness, allowing his instinct to draw him to her, he suddenly found her—her essence—curled up around itself as deep shudders of pain racked her body. He needed to hold her—tell her all was okay—just to hang on there for a little bit longer and that the darkness would go away.

That it would never be this dark while he was by her side.

Dropping to his knees, he wrapped his ethereal arms around her and drew her to him, whispering soft words into her ear. Almost immediately, he felt her uncurl her body and fling herself towards him—seeking his comfort and love—needing it beyond anything else.

< Baby, talk to me—tell me what's wrong? >

< Sp—Spike? >

< I'm scared and it hurts and it's dif-differnt! >

Kissing her temple, he rocked her shaking body as his hold tightened. < Different? What do you mean? >

She sniffled, pulling back away from his chest. < It's not like the last time. Where's the light? The tunnel? My grandma? I was all alone this time. >

< The last time? > he asked, suddenly confused. And then he remembered. Two slayers. Two slayers meant that Buffy had already died once, but was brought back. < You mean the last time you died? >

She nodded as she snuggled closer to him.

< It's different this time, because your soul's in limbo, waiting to see if the prophecy will be fulfilled. >

< Prophecy? >

< Remember, pet? 'What was once of light is now of dark. That of the dark, has been lightened. The prisoner shall finally be free,' > he paused, pulling back to look into her eyes. < And here's your part—the part that no one understood until now—'What was, will no longer be. What will be, has never been.' Remember it? >

She wiped her face, sniffling as she nodded.

He smiled down at her, caressing her face. < You know what it means, pet. Quit being so bloody obtuse. Why did you leave the library? >

She stilled as her eyes took on a distant feel. < Because of the dream. The dream showed me what would happen if I didn't let him and Dru hurt me and kill me. Everything would be gone—the Balance would be forever changed. >

Spike snorted in disgust. < But they didn't tell you how the Balance was going to be maintained? >

She shook her head.

< Bloody fucking pricks! > he muttered to himself. < Figures that they would leave out the most important parts. > He took a deep breath and faced her—holding her tightly by her arms. < So, what happened—right before you died? >

Spike watched as once again her eyes closed in thought. Her features suddenly twisted as new tears slipped through her eyes. She opened them, biting her bottom lip as looked up at Spike. < Faith. She knocked out Dru and Angelus while they were draining me. She tied them up and undid my chains. And then...and then she got her knife out and—and she cut Angelus' neck and tried making me drink. >

< Did you? >

She shook her head again. < No, even though I knew I should or at least knew that Faith thought I should. But I couldn't—I don't—didn't want to be—a—a vampire. It was my worst fear for so long—until Angelus came. I used to lay in bed at night and see myself become a shell of what I was and kill all the people I loved and I can't do that, Spike. I can't. I don't want it! >

He pulled her into his arms and rocked her back and forth as the tears once again fell freely as he waited for her to make the needed connections.

< But it doesn't matter what I want, does it? > she asked softly as she looked up at him. < Because Faith begged me to drink and she—she cut Angelus' arm and pushed the cut to my mouth and begged me. She said that her death—her death had to mean something. But what the hell is she talking about? She didn't die! I died. I was turned! I was the one that drank his blood. I was the one that died. >

< Listen to me, Buffy. You know why we don't turn slayers? I mean, ideally, a slayer vampire would be so powerful and so strong that you would be a fool just to waste all that potential. But the problem is, slayer's souls are stronger than a normal human's soul. They don't relinquish control very easily and the demon becomes enraged. >

< So what you're saying is that somehow the Balance is going to maintained by a crazy slayer vampire—>

Spike chuckled to himself as he shook his head. < I won't let that happen, love. I promise you that. Just let me finish. But you are right—without intervention—a slayer-vampire does become insane. But now, with two slayers, the impossible has happened. A slayer's blood has mystical properties that when consumed by a vampire, gives them even more strength and power. That's why the Master's childer are so strong and powerful. The Master killed more than two dozen slayers in his reign. He passed that strength to his childer and those childer passed it on their own childer. Angelus managed to bag at least three slayers in his 150 years plus reign of terror. So, now you know why we all have been so hard to kill. >

< So, what's this have to do with me? >

Spike took a deep breath and looked down at her liquid eyes. < The only way your soul can be anchored and remain anchored is if your first meal is a slayer. >

He felt Buffy's whole body stiffen as his words sunk in.

She began shaking her head as she pulled out of his embrace. < No way! That's wrong! It's wrong on so many levels that I can't even begin to tell you. That's cannibalism—how do you guys do this? How did Angel survive? How's Xander doing this—I can't—I can't— >

Buffy stood and began pacing as she waved her hands in the air. < How can you expect me to do this? It's bad enough that—that I drank from him—God, I hate him. Have I told you how much I hate him? He hurt me. He laughed at me as he raped me. He knew exactly how to hurt me. It's funny—I don't hate Dru. She's just being Dru and a demon. But him—that's Angel in there—and Faith, she just watched! >

< Because she knew, baby. She knew what had to be done. >

Buffy stopped. < She accepts this? >

Spike nodded, ignoring the sick turning of his stomach as his mind imagined all the horrible things that Angelus and Dru had done to her...his Buffy. < Love, if she's following through with it, then she accepts it. What did she say to you? >

Pursing her lips, Buffy stared down at her feet, shuffling one of them back and forth. < She said that it had been her fate the moment she and the Mayor took Angel's soul away. She also said that she'd been trying to find alternative solutions—but there were none. This was our fate—hers and mine, > she looked up at Spike. < So, what is—is the two slayers? >

Frowning in confusion, his mind scrambled to figure out where she was at as he mentally repeated her words to himself until it finally sunk in. < Oh, you mean the prophecy? >

She nodded. < Yeah, the prophecy. >

< Yeah—what is, is the two slayers. What will be—is a sane, souled, slayer-vampire. >

Nibbling on her bottom lip, she nodded as she processed the last of her duties as a mortal slayer and sighed. She snorted as she shook her head at the thought. Her legs folded and she gracefully sat back down and wrapped her arms around her legs. < The good thing about it, is that I won't be alone. I'll have you and Xan. >

He sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. < I'll be there, baby. Right by your side. We can discover all our new powers together while Harris sits on the sidelines and grumbles about being just a normal, average vampire... >

Buffy giggled. < As if being a descendant from the Master is anything but normal, right? > She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed softly. < How many more of us are out there? >

He shrugged and kissed her temple. < I don't know. Darla was pretty picky. I heard rumblings a while back about her turning someone after Angelus was cursed. Never met him—because she went over here, while Dru and I stayed over in Europe. Dru's childer never made it. Somehow her insanity was passed on—it corrupted the demon as well as the base personality. And me? I've got a couple running around. Last I heard Nathan—who I turned in the middle of the 19th century—was in Australia stirring up trouble. And Jonathan's in Russia somewhere. I turned him right after Angelus was cursed—to help me out with Dru. He was with us in Prague. We split up right after that. >

< What about Angel? >

Spike snorted. < He's got a few more out there, love. He was always turning someone. Delusions of grandeur, you know. A real family man. Always wanted a huge coven filled with his childer and fledglings. I know he's got one bloke out there that's older than me—name's Penn—or something. He's like a serial killer with fangs. Last I heard, he was in LA in the thirties. I'm sure we'll be bumping into them in the future—all of them. Especially if we manage to kill Peaches. They'll be coming out of the woodwork to stake our asses. >

< Nice to know that I have— > She gasped, bending at the waist. < Spike, what's happening? >

< You're being called back, love. Remember first meal has to be Faith! >

< And if she's not available? >

< Wait and we'll do the soul restoration spell. >

< Spike, can you find us? >

He grasped her hands and tugged her to him. < Love, I know where you are. I'll be there as soon as possible with Harris, deal? > She nodded, tears filling her eyes. Giving her a small smile, he bent and kissed her softly on the lips.

< And I love you too, Spike >

Spike held on to her until she disappeared, leaving him alone in the darkness. Sighing to himself, he knew it was time to wake up and find Buffy.

Everything was in its place.

Chapter Nineteen

The first thing Spike noticed when he came to consciousness was the comforting feel of warm fingers sliding through his hair—calming him. For a moment he remained still as he extended his senses in hopes of identifying the person caressing him.

He instantly recognized her scent: Joyce Summers.

Blinking his eyes, he looked up to see the slayer's mother; her face drawn and weary—her fear and pain nearly palpable as she desperately tried to deal with the day's events. First she loses her ex-husband, then her daughter... Spike thought to himself as he reached up and grasped her wrist, stilling her.

"Joyce, I'm okay," he whispered, his throat dry.

"Spike—you're awake!" She leaned down and gave him a huge hug. "I was so worried. I don't think Buffy could handle losing you too," she whispered, her eyes losing focus as her thoughts turned inwards. Suddenly, they cleared and looked him in the eye. "Are you all right? How do you feel?"

He shrugged, trying not to wince when he moved his body. Bloody hell, I'm going to have to feed, he thought to himself. "Yeah ducks, I'm all right. Feel like I've been a few rounds with your daughter, but other than that, nothing that a few pints of O negative couldn't cure." He released her hand and sat up, closing his eyes against the dizziness. "Is there any blood here?"

Joyce nodded as she stood up and walked over to the small refrigerator that Giles kept in his office. "Xander ran over to that bar—Willie's?" she asked pausing until he nodded his head. "And grabbed some for you—knowing that you would probably be a bit hungry." She pulled out a bag and stuck it in the microwave. "How long?"

Spike blinked his eyes and shook his head when he realized what she was asking him. "A minute, Joyce." Spike sighed as he stretched his legs, trying to work out the kinks before he attempted to stand. "Can you go get Xander, Giles and Willow for me? We need to get Buffy back."

"You know she's gone? How?"

He sighed, nodding slowly. "Right before I passed out, I figured it out. The bloody Powers—mucked everything up," he said quietly.

Frowning in confusion, Joyce nodded and stepped around him to the door. After opening it, she called out for the three, telling them to come into the office.

By the time the microwave beeped, Spike had four sets of anxious eyes on him, waiting for an explanation. After Joyce handed him the blood bag, he bit into it, ignoring the humans and drained it quickly. Already feeling better, he managed to stand up and walk over to the trashcan to throw the empty plastic bag away before another wave of dizziness hit him. "Bloody hell," he muttered as he stumbled over to the refrigerator and pulled out another bag. This time, he bypassed the niceties of heated blood, and drank the crap cold. He shook his head and finally felt himself relax in relief. No more dizziness. "Thank Satan," he mumbled to himself as he leaned against the wall and pulled out a cigarette to light it.

He sighed as his eyes studied the four other occupants in the room. He knew this wasn't going to be easy. One thing he had learned in the last few days he'd spent with this group was that everything had to be talked over, rehashed and analyzed to death. It was a wonder anything ever got done. Taking another drag, his eyes stopped at the whelp. "How long to sunrise?"

"It's only 10pm, Spike."

Spike nodded, wondering how his night sense could get so messed up. "Good—that'll work. Harris, I need you to gather as many weapons that us two can carry and load the DeSoto. Can you do that, mate?"

Xander nodded, shooting up from the couch. "Are we going to get Buffy?" he asked quietly as his hand grasped the doorknob.

"Yeah Harris, that's what we're doing."

The young vampire closed his eyes in relief and hurriedly left the office.

Spike turned his attention on Willow. "Pet, can you get all the ingredients for a soul-restoration spell and be ready to do it tonight, if necessary?"

Willow's face paled as her eyes shut, but not before a few tears leaked out. After taking a couple of deep breaths, she indicated she could. "All the stuff's at home—but I don't need anything else."

Feeling a bit better, Spike pushed himself off the wall and began to pace with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. "Good. Get the wolf to take you home, pick-up the supplies and then come back here."

Willow glanced over at Giles and Spike noted that despite the Watcher's obvious distress, he still managed to squeeze the young witch's arm and give her a small smile. "Go ahead, Willow," he said softly, closing his eyes.

The redheaded witch pushed herself off the couch and was heading for the door, when she suddenly stopped and turned back to the vampire. Spike stood there in amazement as she ran over to him and wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him gently around the waist. "I'm glad you're okay, Spike," she whispered and turned around and left before he could managed to find his voice.

He shook his head, grinning at the sheer craziness of his unlife and dropped his cigarette, stomping it out. He looked up at Giles and Joyce and felt his stomach clench. Now comes the hard part, he thought to himself.

"Close the door, Giles," Spike said softly.

The watcher leaned over the end of the couch and pushed the office door shut. Once done, the older man leaned back against the back of the couch and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"No mate, I don't suppose you will."

"Buffy—you think that Buffy's a vampire, don't you?" Joyce asked, her voice shaky and barely restrained.

"They buggered me real good, they did. The Powers or the Council—whatever the hell they call themselves—decided to start my 'conversion' the moment I realized Buffy had left us, so I wouldn't try to stop her..."

"Bloody hell," Giles whispered.

Spike nodded in agreement. "Fucking pricks. You see, it was the prophecy. It needed to be fulfilled," Spike added, snorting in disgust. "Everything in the first two parts of the prophecy except that little bit about the prisoner being set free has already happened. And the 'prisoner' couldn't be taken care of until that last little bit—that stanza that the slayer was bitching about the other night—was fulfilled. Remember it? The nebulous one?"

Giles nodded as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "What was, will no longer be—"

"What will be, has never been," Joyce finished.

Lighting another cigarette, Spike chuckled. "Yep, that's it. The 'what was' bit—is the two-slayer situation. After Buffy and Faith die—there'll only be one called," Spike said feeling that manic laughter that he'd been fighting since he woke up, bubbling up. "Because—now, here's the good part—one of the two slayers now—won't actually be totally dead. She'll be turned. You see, they had it all worked out, even though I was told that this was not the way things were supposed to be. I guess it was a good back-up plan." Spike shook his head in disgust as his pacing took on frantic qualities. "If everything goes as planned, once this night is finished, the Powers will have one immortal, sane and souled, slayer vampire—"

"That's impossible!" Giles exclaimed, shooting up from the couch. "Slayers can't be turned! They go mad!"

Joyce whimpered softly, her head falling into her hands.

Spike grimaced as he watched Joyce and sighed softly. "Normally, I would agree with you, mate. But that's where Faith comes in."

Joyce's tear-stained face lifted up as her eyes widened. "You said both of them were going to die. Oh dear God—"

Spike nodded. "Yeah, that's the plan. A slayer's blood is ambrosia to vampires. Powerful—gives vampires added strength their entire existence and can be passed down to their childer. That explains why our bloodline is so strong. The Master drained nearly two dozen slayers during his reign. The blood has mystical properties as well. The downside of it all, is that it takes a really strong demon to resist the 'human' aspects of slayer's blood. This is why Dru's insanity remained with her once she was turned; the blood enhanced that part of her humanity—forcing it to remain. It's also why Angelus' obsessive nature was amplified when his demon was in control and why my demon—already possessing 'human-like' traits—just flourished. We'll have to see how this affects Xander. With Angel—when he was ensouled—it amplified his humanity. Made his conscience and guilt stronger than it would've been if he had been turned by someone not of the Master's bloodline. That's why there was such a difference between the human Angelus and the ensouled Angel.

"Amazing," Giles whispered as he rose up from the couch and began pacing. "So, what you're saying is that if a vampire drained enough slayers, he would have the equivalent of a soul?"

Spike nodded as he looked out the office door and watched Cordelia as she was unloading various weapons from the cage. "Maybe a bit twisted, but like a soul nonetheless."

"And this has to do with my daughter how?"

Spike shook his head and turned back to the couple on the couch. "First of all, remember that the soul doesn't leave when a person is turned. It's just overpowered and subdued," Spike said as his eyes met the watcher's.

Giles nodded, sighing.

"And like Giles said, slayers aren't turned successfully. The 'slayer' aspect is too strong to be dominated by the demon. And the demon seems to react instinctively against that 'goodness' that won't leave and wages a war inside the person. It's close to what happened to Angelus—but even worse—because an ordinary human soul in itself isn't divine. A slayer's soul is. It's the closest thing to divine that humanity has." Spike paused and lit a cigarette. "The one thing that can settle the battle between the slayer's soul and the demon is the blood of a slayer. And because there's only one slayer at a time—"

"What about potential slayers?" Giles asked interrupting him.

Spike shook his head. "It has to be a slayer at her peak. In my experience, having drained both a newly called slayer and one that's been fighting for a while—there's a difference. The blood is strengthened by time. Faith has been a slayer for nine months. Granted, her blood isn't as strong as Buffy's, but it's strong enough."

Giles collapsed back down on the couch. "Fuck."

"You mean, Buffy—my beautiful daughter—is going to have to drain Faith in order to remain sane?"

Spike nodded as he spotted Xander standing outside the office door. Waving him in, he told him to shut the door behind him.

"Car's loaded. Oz and Willow have left."

Spike reached into his duster pocket and pulled out his cell phone.

"Then why the soul restoration?" Giles asked, apparently finding his voice.

Spike looked up and met the watcher's eyes. "It's the Hellmouth, Watcher. Nothing ever goes according to plan here in this bloody place," he said as he handed the phone to Xander. "You keep this—since you know the number. We may need them." He reached for the doorknob and turned back to Giles. "Tell them whatever you want, but keep them out of the way for a while. It's not going to be pretty."

"Spike!" Giles called out.

Spike stopped. "Yeah?"

"Where is she?"

Spike chuckled softly as he shook his head. "Angelus managed to move into a nice, beautiful home just three doors down from where the cheerleader lives. I think the address is 243. We'll call. Come on, Harris. Let's get the slayer and kill the prick."

Together, Spike and Xander left the office and headed out into the night.

~~~

She still hadn't screamed; Faith was so proud of herself.

She would've laughed at her own foolishness if she had the energy to do so. But unfortunately, she couldn't risk wasting her energy on such superfluous emotions. No, all her reserves were being kept on hold for the other slayer. It was almost like a silent mantra that she had begun chanting in her mind once Angelus began having his fun with her.

I will not die...I will not die.

So far, Faith had been lucky.

But then, she'd only been under his control for maybe half an hour. And he hadn't been idle. She'd already been raped in all three holes. Bastard, she thought to herself as she watched him roll off the bed and saunter over to his toy-box. She had taken a peek in the thing earlier in the week and was surprised to find that her stomach could still clench in fear. All sorts of painful gadgets resided in there—things that even Faith, with her worldly experience, couldn't name.

She felt herself shudder as she watched him pick up the nipple clamps, silently wondering if her promise not to scream would soon be broken. If they had been normal clamps, she would've been fine for the most part. But no, never would she be that lucky; these were made especially for those who loved blood. Instead of just pinching the nipple, the clamps sported two sharp points that actually impaled the breast—meeting underneath the nipple in the flesh.

God, she hoped he wasn't planning on using that pussy clamp she saw in there—or she just might end up going mad just like Dru.

Just let her survive until Buffy revived—that's all she asked.

~~~

Spike turned off the ignition and pulled out the keys. "So, any more questions?" he asked the young vampire as he opened the car door.

Xander opened his mouth to say something and suddenly shook his head, closing it again. "Nope," he muttered quietly. "I just hope we can pull this off."

"Harris, if we're lucky—Angelus and Dru are still out of it and Faith's just sitting next to the slayer waiting for her to revive."

The dark-haired young man looked at Spike pointedly. "And when have any of us been that lucky?"

Spike chuckled softly as he nodded in agreement. "Around here, never."

"Let's go," Xander whispered as he opened his door and slid out of the car.

Spike met him at the trunk and opened it. Within minutes, both of them had not only enough stakes to dust a good two dozen vampires, but Spike was wielding a staff, Xander had swung the tranq gun around his arm and was carrying a crossbow in his hand.

"Ready?" Spike asked Xander as he watched him slip the last stake in the back of his pants.

Xander nodded once. "Ready."

~~~

Faith managed to keep silent until he began flicking the clamps with his fingers.

That's what did her in.

Pain seared through her body, causing her adrenaline to soar as her nerves became sensitized to his ministrations. Then his cold tongue lapped at the blood, cooling her flesh and she began to whimper in response.

Laughing, he leaned back and stared at her. "Tighter Faith? Or looser?"

Closing her eyes, she turned her head away from him.

His slap across her face nearly broke her nose. "Don't you ever look away from me, my dear bitch."

She faced him—her eyes blazing.

"There's that fire," he said softly as his head dipped down and nipped at her neck. "So," he whispered in her ear. "You wanted to be a vampire. Why would I ever turn you, Faith? You're trash—white trailer trash. You're nothing special," he said and ran his tongue down the edge of her ear. "Not even as a slayer."

She felt herself flinch at his words as tears flooded her eyes. Bastard, she thought to herself.

"See—you know it yourself." His mouth moved up her neck to her chin, nibbling and biting her skin. She could feel nearly a dozen or so small cuts ooze blood as he made his way to her mouth. "Poor, insignificant little Faith who had to be bad in order to be noticed," he whispered against her lips, smearing her blood across them and then flickering his tongue out to capture it.

He sat up and straddled her, his erect cock lying on her stomach. His hand clasped her throat, tightly enough to make her uncomfortable, but not tight enough to choke her. "Now, if I was going to turn either of you—it would be Buff. She's unique. She's always surprising me." He snorted, shaking his head. "The bitch even managed to send Soul-Boy to Hell. Gotta give her points for that. It's just a shame she'll be mad when she wakes up," he said as he shook his head in mock dismay. Suddenly, his face lit up—his brown eyes lighting up with a devilish glint.

Faith managed to stop her shudder.

"So Faith, want to stick around and see what a crazy slayer-vampire does when she's in the throes of her first hunger?" He smirked as he jiggled one of the clamps—his eyes closing in pleasure when he heard her screams. "Maybe that's how you should die—it would be pretty appropriate, wouldn't it? Then I'll stake her—after she's served her purpose."

~~~

Spike pushed open the door—surprised to find that it wasn't even closed properly and slowly slid inside as his eyes scanned his surroundings.

Three things he noticed right off the bat: one, Dru was still chained and out cold. Two, Angelus and Faith were missing and three, although Buffy was dead, blood lined her lips and Spike knew that she had been turned.

Cocking his head to the side, he sensed an erratic heartbeat and the fear-filled aroma of a slayer and surmised that Angelus had managed to get free.

Turning to Xander, he nodded towards the door and quickly slipped outside.

Xander followed the vampire.

"Mate, I can't do it. I can't stake Dru. I wish we could just let her go," Spike whispered as he began pacing in front of the car. "I don't want her dead. I just want her gone—as far away from me as possible. A hundred and forty years—"

"Spike—"

"—I can't just stake her and say, 'easy come, easy go.' I've been in love with her more than half of my life—"

"Spike—stop it! Listen, how 'bout we just shoot her up with tranqs...dump the whole gun in her and take her somewhere. You know anyone that may want to take care of her after all this is done?"

Spike's eyes widened in disbelief. "You'd do that?" He asked the younger vampire, leaving off the 'for me', but knowing Xander understood what he was saying.

Xander shrugged as he rolled his eyes. "You say that's she's my sire as well as Deadboy. Well, Dru's evil—but it's not personal. Not like Angel. I have to trust you with this—and if we stake her, your judgement may get skewed. So..."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Spike nodded. "Thanks," he whispered as his mind was already working out a plan. "Okay, here's what we'll do. You go in there and secure Dru and Buffy. And I'll go and get Faith and kill the prick. Sound good?"

Pursing his lips, Xander nodded once. "One condition."

"What?" Spike asked scowling.

"If you can, stake him with me in the room. I want to see it."

Spike chuckled as he shook his head. "Deal."

He then turned around and headed back to the house all the while wondering if Harris wasn't his childe after all.

He sure as hell acted like it.

~~~

Knowing that he wasn't quite ready to real with Buffy's presence, he ignored her pale, dead body. Instead, Xander picked up Dru's unconscious body and quickly left the mansion.

It wasn't until he had her in the trunk did he unload the tranquilizer gun into her already dead-like body.

As each dart hit her, he silently questioned his actions. Not because he was having second thoughts, but because he wasn't having any.

He didn't want her dead either.

And what unnerved him the most about that was it wasn't because Xander had any personal feelings about Dru; on the contrary, he could care less if she lived or died. It was that he didn't want Spike to hurt.

He saw the vampire's love for the insane childe of Angelus' and Xander couldn't help but want to ease the other vampire's burden. If that meant that Dru should live, than so be it. Xander had a feeling that without Spike or Angelus, Dru's impact on the balance of things was going to be minimal, if not undetectable. Her deadliness always seemed to be in consort with her love of the two male vampires. Without them in her life, Xander doubted that Dru had the emotional or mental strength to stir up any trouble.

As he closed and locked the trunk, Xander shook his head and hoped he was right. Because if he wasn't, he knew without a doubt that Dru would be a force to be reckoned with in the future.

~~~

Spike should've known that he wouldn't be able to sneak up on Angelus.

The bloody prick was nothing, if not aware of Spike's presence. As his favorite childe, Spike had had the pleasure of sharing blood with his sire for so long, that before Angelus was cursed, they could sense each other's emotions as well as pinpoint one another's whereabouts.

Dru might have been an obsession for his sire, but Spike knew that he was the closest thing to being a true mate and companion for Angelus.

That's why everything the year before had hurt so much.

For over a hundred years, he was everything to Angelus—a childe, a lover, a friend, a companion, a confidant.

And in five months, Angelus destroyed it all.

Tore Spike's heart out and spit on it with contempt.

All because the demon hated the thought it could have any 'human' feelings at all—whether it be towards a cute but deadly blond slayer or his favorite childe—a crippled and broken vampire.

The reason Dru was now perfect for Angelus was because the demon had no emotional bindings to the vampiress other than maybe wry.

"Spikey...glad to see you could join the party," Angelus said, tossing a wooden stake in his hand.

Spike chuckled sardonically as his hold tightened on the staff, silently thanking the watcher for having access to the slayer's weapons. Only a slayer would have a staff that wielded a point as sharp as any stake.

He quickly glanced over to the body on the bed and quickly took inventory of her injuries. Faith had been beaten and tortured, obviously raped—but she was still alive.

Maybe things weren't as bad as they seemed.

"Angelus, I see that you've been enjoying yourself," he said, leaning against the door frame.

His sire snorted contemptuously. "The bitch tastes nasty for a slayer. Now Buff, on the other hand...delicious," he said, kissing his fingertips.

Spike nearly flinched, but caught himself. Instead, he just nodded, silently acknowledging the point in his sire's favor. "So, now what, mate? Are we going to stand here for an eternity or what?"

Angelus grinned. "You always were the impatient one, my boy. Why are you in such a hurry to die?"

Spike snorted as he pushed himself off the doorframe. "Bloody git, you were always too arrogant for your own good. Where are all the fledglings? Left your perimeter unguarded. Getting sloppy, old man."

Angelus looked up underneath his eyelashes. "Who said I didn't want you here, oh childe of mine? Maybe I did it on purpose."

"Yeah right. Admit it, you just fucked up and lost. You want to know what I think, oh sire of mine?"

"What?" his voice was cold and emotionless.

"I think you want to die. I think somewhere inside of you, you fear that you're turning into another Dru, and your pride being what is, you detest that you're losing it. You see what your future is every time you look at her and you hate it. And what better way to go then at your favorite childe's hand?"

That's all it took for Angelus to lose it.

Stake up, he leaped at Spike.

And just as quickly, Spike lifted the staff and held it out as Angelus' momentum impaled his body upon the wood.

Within seconds, Spike's sire and first love disappeared into a cloud of dust.

Spike's knees buckled as his hold on the staff loosened. Falling down on his knees, he stayed there and stared at the dust...all that was left of his sire.

Angelus, the Scourge of Europe was no more.

Chapter Twenty

"Spike! She's awake!" Xander's panicked voice shook the blond vampire out of his painful stupor.

Wiping his face, Spike stood up and glanced over at the other slayer.

She was a mess.

Thank the gods for slayer's accelerated healing abilities, he thought to himself as he walked over to the bed.

Sitting down next to her, Spike couldn't help but feel his teeth itch in hunger at the smell of her freshly spilt blood. Like heroin slayer's blood was. Growling softly, he reached over her and quickly undid the nipple clamps, ignoring her hiss of pain and the aroma of fresh, slayer's blood.

"Should've chained him to something," Spike said softly as he tossed the clamps over the side of the bed.

"I realize that now," she spat out in between her clenched teeth.

Chuckling, he broke the chains. "What is it they say about hindsight?"

She rolled her eyes as her head fell back onto the bed. "Can you get this collar off? I don't want to die with it on," she added softly, oblivious of the fresh tears staining her cheeks.

Sighing, Spike slipped his fingers underneath it and ran them across the soft worn leather of its underbelly stopping at the lock. He slipped his hand underneath the cloth, posed to pull the sections apart. "Take a deep breath, love and remember that I'm not trying to choke you, okay?"

Nodding, she filled her lungs and then met his eyes.

Spike broke the lock and handed the collar to her.

He stood up and just as he was about to pick her up, she stopped him by squeezing his arm. "Is there anything I can put on around here?"

Biting back the urge to growl, Spike stood up and walked over to the closet and spotted a discarded robe laying on the chair. He picked it up and thought of his Buffy out there, being oogled by a hormonally challenged newly-turned vampire and growled again. Flinging the door open, he instantly spotted one of his sire's shirts and pulled it off the hanger. He then turned back to the slayer and tossed the shirt in her direction.

"Thanks," she whispered before wincing sharply as she sat up. Grinding her teeth, she slipped her arms through the sleeves and closed two of the buttons. "Ready whenever you are."

Tossing the robe across his shoulder, he strode over to the bed and slipped his hands underneath her legs and lifted her into his arms.

Together, they left the bedroom and made their way back to the front of the house.

~~~

Hunger.

Deep, body-wrenching hunger filled her.

Rage.

Fear.

Hatred.

Sorrow.

Buffy's eyes snapped open to stare at Xander who was leaning over her. Growling, she tried grabbing him, not even sure why she needed to, but sure that he would somehow help the conflict inside her. Unfortunately for her demon, he fell backwards and out of her reach.

She tugged on the chains.

"Buffy, hold on. Just a few minutes," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "Spike! She's awake!"

She tipped her head.

Spike...Spike...

Suddenly flashes of her dream came to her. She, lying in the darkness, crying. Spike coming for her and taking her into his arms...calming her fears...whispering his love for her.

The plan...Faith...Angelus...she was a vampire.

Buffy growled and jumped at the sound of her own voice.

A vampire. She was a vampire and she had to drink from Faith. Only Faith. Not Xander. Not pig's blood. Not some poor kid that was walking down the streets of Sunnydale alone. But Faith...because Faith was important...important because Faith was a slayer...like Buffy.

Never before had there been a successful turning of a slayer...'slayer's go mad if they're turned, love,' he'd said. Buffy'd go crazy...but not if she drank from Faith.

"Faith," she whispered through her clenched fangs.

"She's coming, Buff. Spike's bringing her down now. Spike!"

"Geez Xander, are you sure you're a vampire?" Faith's weak voice echoed through the room.

Buffy's head shot up and instantly she felt herself calm down at the sight of her lover.

"Spike..."

"I'm here, baby," he whispered as he walked across the room and stopped in front of Xander. He slowly placed Faith down in front of him.

Every cell in Buffy's body was screaming to break the chains and just drink from Faith. She was human. Buffy could feel Faith's erratic heartbeat and smell the richness of her blood as it seeped into the air.

But she didn't. The slayer part of her stopped the demon cold and she could feel the two parts warring in her body, grappling for control...for domination over the other.

She shut her eyes, whimpering softly.

A hand pressed against her cheek.

Her eyes shot open to see Spike squatting in front of her. Blood tears filled her eyes as she took in his ragged appearance and suddenly she realized she hadn't felt her sire. "Angelus?"

His eyes shut briefly, but not before Buffy saw his pain in them. "Dust, love."

Biting her lip, she nodded once. "I'm sorry, Spike."

~~~

"Xander?"

His eyes dropped down to the scantily covered slayer on the floor and he found himself at a loss. He didn't know what or how he felt about this young woman—the only woman he had slept with as both a human and a vampire—a woman that he had admired at one time and hated other times.

"Yeah Faith?"

She swallowed hard, blinking her eyes. "At my apartment—there's a letter to the Mayor. Can you mail it for me?" She turned her head, ashamed at her tears. "Maybe he'll listen to me and stop the Ascension himself." She looked up at him and tugged on his hand. "Also, I need to tell you something...you guys need to know this..."

"Know what?"

She grimaced and her face paled. "Wesley. Angelus turned him. Mayor arranged a safehouse. I don't know where. Just in LA...Xander, I'm not sure, but he may've been the one that killed Buffy's dad."

"Fuck."

Faith nodded, her jaw clenched. "I—I didn't—I wouldn't—wouldn't have let him go, if I'd known that was his plan...it was wrong."

Xander pursed his lips as he forced himself not to respond. She was right—it was wrong. And he understood her moral code, if he didn't agree with it himself. He lifted a hand and brushed her hair off her face. "I know, Faith."

She met his eyes and gave him a small smile. "I like you better this way, with a soul. Take care of B, will ya? Help her. Make sure Blondie doesn't leave her." She gave him a small smile as she leaned into his hand and closed her eyes.

"I will, Faith," Xander said softly as he watched her chest go up and down with each breath. He looked over at Spike and Buffy to see Spike watching them.

"Is she ready, mate?"

Xander nodded as he slipped his hands under Faith's prone body and picked her up. "Damnit!"

Faith's eyes snapped open as an ironic grin curled her lips. "Such a softy, Xan. It's okay. I'm okay with this—" she stopped, biting her bottom lip as her eyes filled with tears. "My fault, okay? And B knows this—we're five-by-five."

Groaning at her use of her favorite phrase, he nodded and scooted over to sit in front of Buffy. He looked over and met his best friend's now-demon eyes and wasn't surprised to feel an earth-shattering ache quake his undead body. God, he missed Buffy already. The human Buffy. "Buff?"

Her face changed as she gave him a gentle smile and looked down at Faith. Her chained hand reached down and tucked a dark strand of the other slayer's hair behind her ear. "Faith—thank you," she whispered and kissed the slayer's forehead. Suddenly, the blonde's faced morphed into that of a demon's as her hands lifted Faith's unprotesting body onto her lap. She gathered the other slayer's hair in one hand and held it as a sob racked Buffy's body. "I can't—"

"Love, you have to," Spike said, his eyes sad, as he gently caressed her face. "She wants this. You know you have to—"

"It's wrong. God help me, it's wrong!" Buffy's yellow eye's filled with blood tears as she shook her head frantically. Suddenly, she roared as her head shot down and her fangs latched onto Faith's neck.

Xander had to give Faith credit. She didn't even flinch.

~~~

It was almost as if a part of her was standing back watching the whole thing—her, Buffy Anne Summers, slayer extraordinaire drinking the blood of her sister-in-arms. She could feel her demon scream in victory as it savored Faith's rich, magical blood. And even though a part of her felt disgusted and hated herself with every fiber of her being, there was another part of her that understood almost on a molecular level that this was the right thing to do.

With every swallow her body took, she felt stronger, more aware of her body, almost as if she was taking over, instead of the demon.

Ironically, the demon seemed too drugged out to even care. All it wanted was the blood. The sweet, taste of blood made it happy.

As it faded back, allowing her soul to surface, Buffy found the white noise and confusion she has been feeling earlier had faded. Now, everything seemed just more there...more real, if that were possible. She could hear everything, from Faith's slowing heartbeat to Xander's fingers nervously tapping the floor. She could feel Spike's presence—more so than she ever had as just the slayer.

What was happening to her?

She lifted her head, pulling her fangs out of Faith's neck and sighed as she heard the other slayer's final heartbeat. Not even aware of her face changing back to its human countenance, she looked down at the woman that had given her life in order that Buffy could live and felt her face crunch up in pain. Her eyes filled as her body shook.

Without much thought, Buffy yanked on her arms in order for her to hold Faith's cooling body closer to her, pulling the chains from their holdings in the wall, breaking them. As she held the limp body in her arms, ignoring the stench of death that was already emanating from the body, Buffy mourned.

For her human life. For Faith's life...Angel's...Xander's...and her father's.

Buffy cried as only a slayer-vampire could, red blood tears of a demon's, and the heart and innocence of the Chosen One.

~~~

Spike scooted over and sat next to his lover as his eyes sought out Xander. "Call the Watcher. She needs them," he said softly as he wrapped his arm around her shaking shoulders.

Xander nodded, wiping his face and pulled out the phone from his coat pocket. He stopped before dialing and looked over at Spike. "Is it done? Any more surprises for us?"

Spike felt his body tense at the question. Was it done? He asked himself as he searched his mind for any errant facts that he could've forgotten with all the stress and pain of the past few hours.

He found nothing.

"It's done."

The boy nodded and quickly dialed the number as he scrambled to his feet. Backing away from Spike, Buffy and Faith's body, he turned his back and spoke quietly into the phone.

Even though Spike could hear what the younger vampire was saying, he wasn't very interested in it. He was more concerned with Buffy.

Leaning his head against the wall, his mind went over everything that had happened in the past four days and suddenly he let out a loud, sardonic cackle. All this had happened in four fucking days?

Four days and everyone's life had been irrevocably changed—and not necessarily for the better.

And once he started laughing, he couldn't stop. It was too fucking crazy! What did Council say to him? That this was all big, huge mistake? A mistake—a bloody fucking mistake and he lost his sire, his princess and fell in love with the slayer.

A fucking mistake and now for the first time in history there was a successful turning of a slayer-vampire.

A mistake.

Soft fingers touched his face and he looked over to see Buffy watching him carefully. She had let go of Faith's body and had turned to face him. The wanker's red robe hanging loosely about her—was that a touch of breast Spike saw? Shaking his head, he met her swollen eyes.

"Are you okay?"

He let out a slow, chuckle and shook his head. "Did I tell you this was all a mistake?"

He felt her body tense. "A mistake? What do you mean?"

He snorted as he watched the whelp walk over to the front door. He couldn't even look at her when he told her this or he just might lose it and began crying like the sod he had become. "They told me that the Balance—the bloody, fucking balance got out of whack somewhere else and they had to scramble to right things. My sire was never supposed to lose his soul. Matter-of-fact he was going to be a bloody Batman in LA—fighting the good fight," Spike grinned to himself, picturing his sire with a black cape. "The kid over there wasn't so supposed to live the rest of his life as a souled-vampire. Me, I was supposed to stay in Brazil. At least for awhile. To be honest, I'm the only one that appeared to benefit from the craziness," he added as he thought about his near-miss at the hands of human demon-hunters and a fucking implant. "You," he paused and looked over at her, suddenly compelled to take her out of this house and into his arms and never let her go. "Were supposed to go to college, fall for some human git and be the bloody bane of my existence." He shook his head and pulled her into his arms. Wrapping them around her body, he buried his head in her neck and felt himself shudder. "And we would never know that we loved each other...each too stubborn and angry to admit it. Wasting our time beating the shit out of one another instead of shagging."

"Why? How did things get so messed up?"

He lifted his head and peered over her shoulder to see her face. She looked as confused as he felt. He kissed her cheek. "The Hellmouth, love. The situation was ready and waiting for things to be righted, and it spun out of control. The only way to fix it was for you to become a sane, slayer-vampire, the whelp to be a souled-vampire and me to finally commit to the Council."

"And now look at us."

"Three undead fools tied for the rest of our bleeding unlives to the Gray Council and fighting their fight."

"Any regrets?" She asked softly, leaning her head back so their lips were just millimeters from touching.

"A thousand, love, but they all seem to pale when I feel you in my arms."

She pressed her soft lips on his and sighed. "Me too."

Chapter twenty-one
Epilogue

Buffy stared into the sunlight and for the thousandth time wished that the sun's rays felt natural on her skin like they had when she had been human.

Unfortunately, with her new state of being, they didn't.

The sunlight, an enemy of the undead and most of the demon world, didn't scorch her or burn her into a flame of ashes as it did the rest of the vampire population.

But it didn't like her too much either.

Although her skin didn't blacken like that of normal vampires when exposed, it just made her uneasy, almost like when her spider sense had acted up when she had been human.

"Spider sense and the sun—who'd have thunk it?" She asked herself softly.

She leaned against the brick wall and stared out into the slowly awakening city below her and wondered what those stupid powers had planned for her next.

It had been six months since she had awakened to find Spike pinning her down in her bed, making smart-ass comments about her sex-life and how he wouldn't mind 'a shag or hundred' with her.

Six months since Angel had lost his soul and Angelus had returned with a vengeance.

Six months since Xander had been turned and then re-souled.

Six months since Harmony, her father, Faith and at least a dozen or so humans had died at

the end of her sire's cruel teeth.

Six months since Angelus had been dusted and Angel's soul had been freed.

Six months since she and Spike had fallen in love.

And six months since Buffy had evolved from being a freak among humans to a freak among vampires.

"And what a long, strange trip it's been," Buffy quoted softly as her head fell and her eyes closed in memory.

How they had managed to stop the Mayor from Ascending was still nothing short of a miracle. From Buffy and Spike's planning and the Scooby Gang's recruitment, the graduating class of Sunnydale High had fought back and Giles, Buffy and the new slayer, Stephanie, had blown up the school to stop it.

If Wilkins had ever received Faith's letter, he didn't let it stop him. Instead, it had enraged him. Buffy nearly lost the remainder of her mortal friends to his machinations. Giles was almost killed in, of all things, a drive-by shooting. Only Xander's newly appropriated undead reflexes and quick thinking had saved her watcher from a painful death. Willow was stalked by a magic-stealing demon that wanted to suck the life out of her. Oz had a spell placed on him that forced him to remain in wolf-state for three extra days until Spike found the counter-spell. And Cordelia was nearly drained.

But they made it. And blew the mayor back into Hell itself.

And Buffy even graduated.

Wonders never ceased.

So, here she was in LA, waiting. For what, none of them knew. While Willow and Oz stayed in Sunnydale with Giles, her mother and Stephanie—Xander, Cordelia, Spike and she were in LA, living in an old building that Angel had bought a month before he had died.

Apparently, he had been thinking of leaving Sunnydale.

Buffy blinked the tears away and sighed. She could almost hear him explain to her why he was leaving her—it was too hard—he loved Buffy too much. No one had accepted his return. Giles. Xander. Her mother.

Each excuse felt like a silent betrayal, even though he had never had the chance to say them.

Angel was gone before he had even left.

But then, Buffy thought, hadn't she been as guilty of that as he had been? Scrambling to hold onto something that would lead her down the road to nowhere, desperately in love with a soul that was constantly battling a demon to remain in control?

Hadn't that fight at the Bronze his last night alive been a bit too real for comfort? Wasn't she the one bemoaning how apart, yet tied to Angel she was? Wishing and wanting for more, but knowing where it would lead?

Isn't that why she had fallen so hopelessly and deeply in love with Spike? Because in reality, Angel was already gone and had been since they had made love in his bed the year before?

A million regrets...

...and yet, things weren't that bad. Yes, she missed Angel but somehow the pain wasn't nearly as bad now that she knew his soul was finally free from the pain of unliving. His fate would've been far worse if Angelus had remained among the undead. She could stand outside in the sunlight—thank God for her slayerness—and her need for blood was minimal. And yet her strength as a vampire was double the norm.

It could've been a lot worse—a lot worse.

And she wasn't alone. She had Spike, Xander and Cordelia were there—ready to jump into the fray when things got out of hand.

She had their friendship and love. She had a soul.

There were still some unfinished matters that came from the great debacle of last spring. There were rumblings in the undead community of a new master who was smart as a whip and as cruel as Angelus. Buffy knew it had to be Wesley, but she had yet to find him.

He would die...for her father and the countless others that suffered his abuse and cruelty.

And of course, there was Dru. Still alive and talking to the stars according to Spike. He had found someone to care for her—one of his childer's, Jonathan, who lived in Russia. Neither Buffy nor Spike knew how long that arrangement would last, but everyone hoped that it would be for as long as possible.

Spike. Buffy smiled to herself as she thought of her lover, his taut body wrapped around her, introducing Buffy to the joys of vampiric sex as well as teaching her what he had learned in his 200 years of unliving. God, did she love him. So thoroughly and completely that sometimes she wondered how she could've managed to survive without him. He brought life and laughter into every facet of their lives. He continually kept her on her toes and at the same time treasured her.

She knew, without a doubt, that he was the best person to live her unlife with. Angel, if he had lived, had too much pain and regret clouding his life, to ever give fully of himself. Or accept her as she was now.

She took one last look at the sky and whispered a soft thanks into the air. One thing she knew for sure, none of this would've been possible if it hadn't been for Faith.

God, she missed her. She had been the brave one in the end. Not Buffy or Spike or Xander. But Faith. She had faced her duties and done them without complaint. She had bared her neck for Buffy and given the slayer a chance at a new life. One that Buffy would never have had as just the slayer.

Sometimes, Buffy would swear she felt the other slayer's presence—a sardonic laugh filling the air. A whispered affirmation that everything was all right. 'It's five-by-five, B.'

"Yeah Faith," she said, smiling. "It sure is."

#30.#