Spike leaned against a tree, arms folded across his chest, playful smirk gracing his hardened continence.

Ah, but it was a glorious sight to behold. 

Honestly, he could care less about the First and Its ‘Grand Plan to Take over the World.’ Whatever, Spike said to that; every other demon, and half the humans on this planet wanted that. No, it was the beautiful scene before him. 

Buffy and Angelus – Angelus! – fighting unspeakable odds, the so called forces of light diminished to a trickle of nothingness, the witch and the annoying nobody boy were dead, their souled vampire soulless, ah it was wonderful. Beautiful. The irony was delicious. 

Dawn was something else; he’d always had a soft spot for the youngest Summers, but she seemed to be holding her own. Spike wasn’t sure what he would do if the niblet wasn’t but so long as she was, he didn’t have to decide. And if history was likely to repeat itself, and the vampire didn’t see what it wouldn’t, Buffy would give her life for her sister. 

Hmm, Angelus probably wouldn’t let her, and Spike so wanted to see that couple at odds. It was more fun that way. 

That bitch couldn’t even be bothered to take the time to find him when the First had him in Its clutches, too busy playing whore to his sire if Drusilla and the First were to be believed, but Spike was positive Buffy’d save her sister with her last breath. 

The big poof, though, he had changed. But then sans soul, Angelus was a mean son of a bitch. Spike laughed; he was the souled vampire now, and he wasn’t helping them with this little Harvest problem. 

Drusilla floated around both him and the tree, dancing to a tune only she could hear. There was a beatific smile on her face, and Spike couldn’t help but smile back. This was as it should be; this was exactly as it should be. He and Dru, no one else, no annoying grandsires, no whore of a great-grandsire, no souls, nothing to worry about but what city to visit next. 

Just he and his dark princess. 

At the thought of ‘souls,’ his own gave a meager peep that only served to remind the now scowling vampire of the stupidity he had gone through, of the idiocy being a neutered dog on the slayer’s leash, had driven him to. He had actually volunteered to have his soul returned. Yeah, he was a loser; no wonder Dru had left him. He was pathetic. 

But all that changed. He had his soul, so what, who cared? It wasn’t the big deal Angel made it out to be, wasn’t the brooding-quality lament that his grandsire took it as. The best part about this whole soul-having thing…was that it could be ignored. 

“Ooh, that had to hurt,” Spike commented from his vantage point as Corrine was knocked into the wall. “No getting up from that. Too bad, too, I bet potential blood has that same kick as the real thing.” 

Dru laughed, and stopped her mad dance in front of him, draping her arms about his neck and snapping her jaws near his throat. “Soon, my pet,” she whispered, “Soon the Queen of Hearts will see the board clear, and her King will be there with her. They are one and two, two in one, many to each other and only each other.” 

Spike nodded, his attention divided between Dru’s confusing ramblings, and the continuing fight before him. “So it’s almost over then, ducks? This fight, I mean. The First’s little party is all set to start,” Christ, he sounded like Drusilla and her ramblings now. “Will the slayer and peaches know this?” 

That had been the debate for several long hours, should he and Dru tell Angelus and Buffy of the First’s big plan? Or should they continue to ally themselves with the Evil? 

“They know, my Spike, The Queen and her King know, but only half the board has been revealed. It is up to us to take the cover off, and show them the rest. If we don’t, daddy loses,” she whimpered here, telling Spike that the vampire before him truly was Angelus. She never got that way with Angel. “And mummy doesn’t like it when that happens.” 

Yesterday she had begun to refer to Buffy as ‘mummy,’ and frankly it still freaked Spike out. Why Dru did that was anyone’s guess, but he accepted it only because he hadn’t another choice. 

“So we tell them, then, princess?” He looked back to the battling couple, noting how well they moved together, and how easily they dispatched their enemies. Graceful and deadly, rage pouring off the pair of them in blatant waves that attested to their closeness. 

Despite the fact that Angelus was soulless now, they still acted as if it had been hours rather than years since they last fought together against the demons trying to take over the Hellmouth. More than anything else, that unnerved Spike; if it were possible for the two of them to know each other’s moves so intimately even now, what chance had he ever had? 

None. He had never had a chance with Buffy, and he knew that, always had. Too bad he hadn’t acknowledged it before the damn soul. Could have saved everyone a lot of trouble. 

There was more that he was missing, Spike was sure of that. Dru knew, but she wasn’t telling. But it couldn’t be helped now; Drusilla insisted that telling Angelus and Buffy was for the best, so that was what they were going to do. 

“Assuming they survive this little distraction.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“There’s something wrong,” Buffy said as she beheaded another Turok. It was almost as if they were coming in just enough of a trickle to distract her and Angelus; keep them busy, but not overwhelm them. 

She was cut in several places but the blood had dried already, her cuts healing almost instantaneously with her supernatural healing. She wasn’t tired, not even winded; there was too much pent up energy flowing through her for that. But she was starting to tremble, just lightly, but it was enough to piss her off even if at the same time she desperately wanted to attack Angelus’ jugular, and taste him once more. 

Almost as if her body knew that soon she would need her mate’s blood, and couldn’t wait. And that pissed her off even more. 

Angelus was not helping the situation; he’d send her covert looks he probably thought she couldn’t see, sexy grins when she’d turn her head just enough to catch his look. Even in the midst of this fight, he managed to set her blood to heating for him. 

“I know,” Angelus replied with a hiss as he swung his sword through another Turok. He hoped they realized that he was a friend, not an enemy – for now at least. He knew he could take them, but that wasn’t the point; they needed all the fighters they had. Injuring any on their team wasn’t in the cards no matter how temporary the injury was. Not if it endangered Buffy’s life. 

“But I’m not entirely sure what.” He finished as he returned to Buffy’s side once more. Distance, physical distance was something he never again wanted between them. 

“You mean other then the fact that, as of now, we aren’t overrun with the forces of hell?” 

Angelus grinned at that, the light of battle still in his eyes. “Yeah, exactly. Either we’re missing something huge, or the First is toying with us.” 

“Or both.” 

“I vote for both,” Angelus said, again turning his attention to the side, seeking out the faint humming. There was a small lull in the proceedings, and he recognized that feeling now. “Family,” he snarled.

“What?” Buffy asked as she, too, looked in the direction Angelus was now heading. 

Angelus stalked off to the side, homing in on the feelings running through his blood. How could he have missed this before? Familial ties were strongest, second only to mated bonds; he should have picked up on the presence of two of his childer immediately. He couldn’t say why he hadn’t, and that infuriated him; he knew Spike and Drusilla were working with the First, he should have been more on alert to their presence. 

A low constant growl emanated from him, but Angelus didn’t notice, too intent on getting to his grandchile, and rending him limb from limb. Twice. Before the real fun began. He felt Buffy next to him, felt her anxiety and concern, her mistrust and suspicion, and her hatred and loathing. Which emotion was directed at which vampire was anyone’s guess. 

Placing a hand on her shoulder, Angelus felt the tension within her, and stopped his stalking. She was what mattered, not the two before him, only Buffy. She relaxed slightly under his hand, turning to look at him for a moment. With a nod, they moved forward again, knowing they wouldn’t sneak up on the vampire couple but not caring. 

This wasn’t about a sneak attack, but about confrontation. 

Unfortunately, Spike didn’t see it that way. 

The youngest vampire pushed away from the tree and, allowing that motion to carry him forward, attacked Buffy. Rage and betrayal were pumping through him, making him careless and aggressive in the face of the odds, which were decidedly against him. 

Buffy easily held him off; she had done it before being changed, now it was as easy as swatting a mosquito. Easier, actually, as Spike’s assault was emotion-based – he never was one to play it cool. Throwing the blonde against the tree on handed, Buffy snarled at him.

It was Angelus who told the blonde, “Stay there, boy, or I’ll forget that you once helped her.” 

Angelus’ rage washed over Buffy, and again she was forced to wonder why he had never displayed these possessive, almost caring, feelings for her when they had first met. What changed between then and now? Not that it mattered, Buffy supposed. 

Shaking her head, regaining her bearings, Buffy turned to Angelus, watched the play of anger and jealously deep in his red eyes, his face impassive. He was always the first she looked to, always the one – Angel, Angelus – from whom she sought help. He stood there, a snarl directed at Spike, as Dru floated around him. That display wasn’t helping her roller coaster emotions in the least. 

“I thought I told you next time I saw you, Dru,” Angelus growled, fangs gleaming in the moonlight as his eyes quickly flashed blood red before reverting to their normal brown. “I’d kill you.” 

Dru whimpered, “Daddy’s mad…I’m so sorry, daddy. We didn’t mean it.” 

Angelus looked unconvinced, but Buffy interrupted whatever he was going to say to his once favorite childe. Dru still whimpered, but remained silent. 

“Spike,” Buffy said in a low voice that held no emotion whatsoever, sparing a brief glance at Drusilla who had moved away from Angelus with a fearful glance. The vampiress looked between the slayer and the vampire with a small smile that spoke of secrets only she knew. “And Drusilla; and here I thought, Spike, that you were in trouble.” 

Drusilla said nothing, but began to hum to herself as she floated around Angelus and Buffy in a weird figure eight. The slayer did nothing, but it was obvious she was uncomfortable: crazy vampiress who hated her more than almost anything in this world dancing around her like a Tchaikovsky ballet? Only discomfort to be found there. 

Angelus was torn between laughing at the situation – it wasn’t every day his beautiful but crazed childe danced around his even more beautiful mate – and growling at Drusilla. He loved only Buffy, but Drusilla was his finest creation. Everything he’d ever imagined in a childe, she was. 

Still, Dru spinning around Buffy was indeed a sight to behold. 

Buffy scowled at Angelus; her demon had a small adoring smile on his face. Catching her eye, Angelus’ smile changed. It became sinful, seductive. Loving. The glint in his eye conveyed that, conveyed everything he’d never be able to voice to her, everything he felt and would always feel.  

Closing the short distance between them, Angelus raised her hand, kissing the palm. “You, my beautiful love,” he whispered so that even Spike and Drusilla couldn’t hear, “Are truly the only one for me. I worship you, and you know that; Drusilla is a pale comparison to you, a simplistic watercolor to your vibrant life. You are beyond a doubt my everything, and I’m not in a position to prove that – over and over throughout several long days and nights – just how true that is.”  

Buffy felt a soft blush color her cheeks at his words. How did he know what she was thinking? Damn it, how could he read her mind? She grumbled at him, but couldn’t help the smile. 

“Mummy’s angry, she’s all confused, but she’s so strong now. A thousand and one, a thousand and one, all for her, all for eternity. The Queen of Hearts knows what and who but does she know where?” 

Angelus had no idea what his childe was crooning about but he didn’t like it “Dru, what do you know?” He asked in his best Sire Voice. Buffy’s life was in danger, and if his childe knew something to help them, he’d do everything to get it out of her. 

“Daddy doesn’t like his Dru anymore,” she sighed and floated over to Angelus, hands waving an inch from actually touching his face. “Two in one, two in one, happy and whole, but he doesn’t like that. Wants it gone, but can’t, can’t do it. Can’t do it, no, no, it won’t work.” 

Angelus growled at Dru, certain that she was speaking of his vague plan to rid himself of the damnable soul. “Why not,” he demanded. 

“Can’t get rid of him,” she confided, “Because if you do, then you’ll die. He’s a part of you, a part. But the Queen of Hearts, she still loves. Always will. You’re her King.”

She was looking at Buffy when she said that, but looked to Angelus now, still too close to him for either Buffy’s or Spike’s liking. “Daddy?” She asked again, then, “So different, but still in the same square as the Queen of Hearts.” 

Buffy resisted asking, ‘Huh?’ and decided to remain silent. She had enough confusion without adding Drusilla’s. Glancing at Angelus, she noted his smug look. Buffy wanted to hit him. She settled for ignoring him. He didn’t like that, squeezed her hand tightly, but said nothing. They’d have plenty of time to speak later; now was for the First. 

Straightening from against the tree, where he had watched the entire scene play out, the Spike snorted in derision as he warily eyed the slayer, his consort and his grandsire. What the fuck had just happened? And what the fuck did Dru mean? 

“Drusilla, pet?” He asked, pulling her attention away from the couple who were inching closer to each other, seemingly unknowingly. Some things never change. “What was that all about?” 

Before Dru could answer, though Buffy wasn’t entirely sure that answer was going to make sense, the slayer said, “Spike, what happened to you?”
~~~~~~~~~~
“The First had me,” Spike said, eyes on Buffy. “But I think you know that by now. Wanted to turn me into one of Its minions, an ally to use against you and your little friends. And you did ever so much to help me didn’t you slayer?” He taunted her, rubbing her nose in the fact that she had promised to do just that. “I’m just fine, as you can see,” he added with a flicker of his cigarette. 

“Things spiraled out of control a little too quickly, Spike.” Buffy said, defending herself all the while wondering why she was bothering. What did she care? Guilt was the only thing she felt towards the second ensouled vampire; guilt for not being able to help Angel when he first received his soul, guilt for being too scared of her own feelings to help him thoroughly the second time. “But it doesn’t matter, does it?” 

“No,” Angelus snapped, barely resisting the urge to rip the younger vampire in two. He had rage issues but who cared? “It doesn’t. What does matter is where you’ve been, and why you’re still alive.” 

Spike laughed again, and it was that sound, more than anything, that confirmed Angelus’ suspicions. His grandchilde might have had a soul, but it wasn’t the dominant factor in the being. The demon was. Briefly, Angelus wondered if the U.S. government approved chip still functioned. 

He was betting no. 

Just then, Drusilla cooed at Buffy, “Daddy’s here and the Queen of Hearts has him. She has daddy, she’s mummy.” Dru smiled, caressing Buffy’s cheek with a pale, cool hand.

Laughing, Dru nuzzled Buffy’s cheek, and just as quickly, before the slayer could respond by moving away or perhaps staking Drusilla, the vampiress jumped back, crying as if burned. 

“A hundred thousand and more, they’re all in there, too many, so much, she has it all, she is all. The Queen is all powerful and daddy’s not getting out.” She shifted her eyes to Angelus, and continued in her sing-song voice. “Daddy’s hers, he always was, and he always will be. Always, always, always.” 

Angelus couldn’t dispute that, and that was just fine with him. But why had Dru acted as if touching Buffy burnt her?

Spike looked from Dru to Buffy. “What? Dru, luv, what are you talking about?” 

“The slayers, my Spike. She’s the slayers.” 

At first Spike didn’t hear the plural part of the word ‘slayer.’ All he heard was ‘She’s the slayer’ and was about to comment that of course she was; where had Dru been for the last several years? But he didn’t, pausing just before the words could leave his mouth. 

Suddenly everything made sense. Or, well, started to at least. 

Turning to Angelus, he squinted at his grandsire once more; no, he was the same, the same annoying bastard as always, souled or no. Souled…damn, the poof was still souled! 

“Bloody hell!” Spike laughed, “What happened? Ha!” He laughed again, ignoring his own soul situation with the argument that that stupid jaunt to Africa was some kind of mental breakdown brought on by the deteriorating government approved chip in his brain. “All that moaning and bitching, and-”

Angelus’ hand shot out, grabbing Spike’s throat in a grip that was just this side of too rough. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, boy,” he hissed. “And if you want to live beyond the next moment, you’ll keep your mouth closed.” 

Buffy watched impassively as Spike alternated his glare between her and Angelus. “You have one chance,” Angelus said, already planning to kill his remaining family. He couldn’t risk Buffy’s life with them still around. “One. And it ends in three seconds.” 

“I gotcha,” Spike grumbled around his crushing windpipe. 

Angelus squeezed a moment longer, obviously contemplating Spike’s immediate demise, even with his agreement. He felt Buffy’s hand on his arm. and turned his head sharply to look at her. She sensed the anger that threatened to boil over, confirming her suspicion that he was not a changed vampire even if he treated her differently. He slowly released Spike, unwrapping his fingers from the other’s throat. 

Caressing her cheek with his free hand, Angelus tilted Buffy’s head so their eyes locked. Leaning down until their foreheads touched, Angelus murmured nonsensical words in Gaelic, and continued to stroke her cheek. His lips touched hers briefly, cool and easy. Reassuring her that he was perfectly in control, and that he wouldn’t do anything to endanger their only means to information. 

Buffy looked into his eyes, brown with faint hints of gold. Not vampiric gold, soul gold. Was Angel in perfect agreement with Angelus? Finally, were soul and demon in agreement over something? 

Nodding once, to let him know she understood what he was trying to do, Buffy took a deep breath and turned back to the couple. Spike looked like he was about to die from apoplexy – was it possible for vampires to die from strokes? – and Dru still cradled her hand, wide eyes on Buffy and Angelus. 

“You broke Vampire Law, Spike,” Angelus said. His voice carried a hint of menace, more compelling for that soft lilt, his eyes flashed red, but he stood perfectly still. “You touched my mate, you, who are my Childe’s Childe not only touched her in one of the most intimate of ways, but professed feelings towards her.” 

Spike shifted against the tree, suddenly wondering about the rest of his unlife. Angelus’ voice echoed around him as if in a cave, but the younger vampire knew it was only an effect. It happened to be a damned good one. 

“By law you should be staked to the ground to await the first kiss of the rising sun as word of your disloyalty, your betrayal, spread among the underworld. Personally,” Angelus continued with an unnerving smile, “I’d rather rip you limb from limb, and use every single method of torture ever invented.”

Dru whimpered, Spike wanted to bluster at Angelus’ words, but the best he came up with was, “Fuck off.” 

A growl escaped Angelus, and the elder stepped forward. Buffy stepped next to him, his emotions washing over her, and she wondered how that was possible. How Angelus’ feelings seeped into her, melded with hers. 

“You can leave, now. The both of you.” Buffy squeezed Angelus’ hand, grateful for his support even if he was glowering, and ready to strike out any second. Why she was giving the couple this chance, she didn’t know, but she felt she had to. 

When no one moved for long minutes, Angelus looked at his childe, and asked the question that was on everyone’s minds. “What’s the First’s plan?” 

“Its Blood Harvest is nearing,” Dru said in a surprisingly sane voice, dark and accepting knowledge in her eyes. “It begins at dawn. It has Its innocents, and only needs the final ingredient.” 

“Do you know what that is?” Buffy asked. 

Shaking her head, the vampiress added, “No, but Its close. The pawns are in position, and the Queen and her Kings are ready. The board is yours, mummy, it’s clear for you and your King. But,” she leaned closer to her, and said in a staged whisper, “There’s another player who wants to join the game. Who wants to play, who knows the rules…and doesn’t care. Who knows the way to win, and will do so because it’s always been in the stars.” 

She took a step back. “The new player is old, knows all, sees all, is all. More powerful than the First, more ancient than the stars. Wants to balance, but can’t. not yet, not now, not until.” 

“Until what?” Buffy demanded. 

“Until the end game,” Drusilla told her. 

Buffy nodded. “Thank you,” she said in a soft voice that weaved its way around the couple before her. Drusilla nodded, tears in her eyes, a single one tracking down her face. Spike just stood there, not quite comprehending what was going on. 

Angelus suddenly grabbed Buffy again, single-minded in his goal of keeping her from harm. He leaned close, wondering why he was bothering to ask when he’d usually act, and then explain. Maybe explain…maybe. “Kill her, lover,” he whispered in that voice that flowed over her, sex and love. The whisper that only she could hear, and Buffy wondered if he actually spoke, or somehow told her telepathically what he wanted her to know. 

“Kill the both of them. Can you really guarantee that they won’t come stumbling back? Spike did, despite the deal you made, and tortured the soulful one to within an inch of his life. If we let him live, you know he won’t be able to stay away. It’s only a matter of time.” 

Buffy didn’t say anything, but knew his words were right. Knew that with them still on the loose, more would die, more that she couldn’t save. More that she knowingly killed. She stepped back, out of his embrace, eyes locked on his gold-flecked brown ones, but said nothing. She didn’t nod, didn’t speak, but her eyes gave her away. Large and full of emotion, they told Angelus – and Angel within him – all they needed to know. 

“Daddy’s angry,” she looked to Angelus. “Daddy wants to see her safe from everything, even us. I understand, mummy.” Dru said, and blew a kiss to Buffy. 

Without another word – lest Buffy change her mind – Angelus struck. He twisted Spike’s neck with one smooth move, snapping his head off with a satisfied roar. Dust fell to the ground in an undignified heap. Angelus wasn’t going to mourn his grandchilde. Drusilla on the other hand, he was. For maybe a minute. No, that wasn’t true, he’d truly mourn his beautiful creation. The first person to truly love him. Buffy’s affection he returned tenfold, but Drusilla’s…Drusilla’s love and devotion Angelus hadn’t known how to handle. 

But it didn’t matter. He’d kill her even though some part of pre-gypsies Angelus had needed that affection. He’d kill her because now he truly understood what it was to feel love and tenderness, to worship a being, to hold her tight and never, never let her go. 

Buffy waited for him to say goodbye to Drusilla, who was openly crying now. She knew her fate, but wasn’t going to stop her Sire from meting out punishment. 

“I’m sorry, Drusilla,” Angelus whispered, stroking her cheek with light fingers. 

“I know, daddy,” she nodded, eyes locked with his. 

Angelus kissed her mouth, once in goodbye, and slipped a stake from the back of his pants. He didn’t think it’d come in handy, but Buffy had insisted. Apparently, it was her weapon of choice. Still looking into his childe’s eyes, still caressing her cheek, Angelus plunged the stake into her heart, closing his eyes as she exploded into dust. 

Buffy stood there for a moment, giving Angelus a chance. Rousing herself when she heard a shout from behind her, and the still going on fight, she moved to her lover. Moving around to face him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, resisting her head on his chest. Somehow, Buffy knew that both Angel and Angelus mourned Drusilla’s death. But that wasn’t for now. 

Unfortunately, grief had no place tonight. But afterwards… 

“I’m sorry, baby,” Buffy whispered. “I’m sorry you had to do that.” 

“It was necessary,” Angelus’ hands convulsed on her back, his cheek resting on her hair and Buffy swore she felt a tear fall against her. 

“Ready to stop this thing, love?” Buffy asked, knowing their time was running out. It was only a few hours till dawn. 

“Let’s go kick some First ass,” Angelus growled. There was one more threat to his mate’s life. And he needed to destroy it.
~~~~~~~~~~
It was so happy It felt like skipping. 

But It, in the guise of the dead witch Tara, didn’t. That would just ruin the image It had worked so long and hard to project. Still, the unfettered glee It felt was simply unmatched, and a slightly deranged smiled lighted Its (Tara’s) face. In Its opinion, the dead witch never looked so good as she did when maniacal. 

Its minions, hardened demons devoted to It and Its cause, quaked in fear. 

The Blood Harvest was about to be completed, the annoying band of Warriors was diminishing in numbers, and preoccupied with the meager forces It had sent out. Hours only remained, and while It was almost impatient with the remaining wait, It took this time to reflect. 

Drusilla and Spike were, even now, observing any and all weaknesses the Warriors had, assessing them in Its final step to obliterate them. Dru was truly a fine addition, It thought, she was cruel and determined, and wanted ‘her Spike’ back. That, and when It told her of Angelus’ return, she went into peals of laughter sighing about daddy being back. 

Wasn’t family life wonderful? 

Sighing in happiness, It lounged on the stone chair set in the middle of the cavernous room. The chair was the only adornment to this planetary home, for It felt no need for the trappings of life. This close to Its Harvest, It was gaining corporality, something that It was sure the slayer and her pathetic – and diminishing friends – didn’t realize. Perfect. 

Once true corporality hit, once It was strong enough to exist in this world all the time, the planet, and all its inhabitants, would tremble in fear and awe. Wasn’t eternal existence wonderful? 

Looking out at the beautiful creatures that followed It, ‘Tara’ again smiled. It missed Its most cherished minion, the one they called the Beast, but in the grand scheme of what was to come, that was overlooked. Just enough, however, to plan out carefully the revenge It sought on that slayer for destroying Its servant. 

They were massive, the Turok-Han’s, a surging mass of death and destruction. Oh, the first Turok, the one Buffy had killed, was indeed The First Vampire, hence the reason Angelus’ remaking had forged him into a vicious creature even more perfect than before. These were that Turok’s children, created and born in its image.

Restless with energy, and energized with semi-corporality, It stood once more, crossing the room to a smaller chamber. Here Its innocents had sacrificed their lives for Its greater good, er evil. The strength of their souls had shouted in confusion, in denial, in fight. Innocent they may be, but that didn’t mean that the fight, the sheer will to live wasn’t as deeply engrained in them, as it was in every other being ever to walk the earth. 

In a river of blood that washed the gray rock walls red, the thousand had died, their blood flowing from their worthless human bodies as understanding finally dawned in their pathetic human minds. Not the ‘they were going to die’ bit, no that was obvious from the start. 

It was the WHY they were going to die. From the beginning of time, they were the Innocents, the ones destined to alter the balance between good and evil. They were the ones who, no matter what life threw at them, continued to see things – most especially people – as good and pure. People who were merely misunderstood, or required help, not necessarily evil. 

These Innocents were reborn every generation, always the same, until now. The ritual used to kill the thousand ensured that they’d never be reborn again, thus closing one circle forever. No other circle could possibly open. 

As Its bringers carved the ritualistic symbols into every one of the thousand, they understood their purpose. And that purpose was to die at Its hand, for Its cause, for Its ultimate goal. 

It so loved it when a plan came together.
~~~~~~~~~~
THEY looked down at the world below. 

The First Evil, pretentious in its name and exaggerated in Its deeds cowed in the bloody room It had used to kill the Innocents. The Powers That Be tried in vain to understand where they had gone wrong, what they had allowed to happen that altered the balance so drastically that the world was reduced to this. 

THEY could have told everyone what went wrong, but that wasn’t what THEY were about. No, it wasn’t up to THEM to correct the mistakes The so-called Powers allowed to happen with both interference and nonintervention. It really was all about making a difference; more specifically how one or two people can make that difference.

SHE smiled at her life-long mate, a being SHE’d spent eons with, as THEY watched and waited, groomed and tutored beings to fight on both sides. HE smiled back; a tendril of energy caressing HER cheek in a loving gesture time had not diminished. 

“He is ready,” SHE said in a whisper that echoed throughout everything. And if anyone cared to listen, they’d be in awe. Dumbstruck that such beauty, such power, such balance, existed. 

“It is time,” HE agreed, and merged their energies in a flash of light that no one could see for it was private and intimate and only for THEM.
~~~~~~~~~~
Turning back to their group, Buffy and Angelus ran the short distance to the others, suddenly knowing what they had to do. 

A blue-skinned demon jumped out of the bushes, and Buffy, fueled by the Slayers within and her own power, knocked him (her? It?) backwards with a flick of her wrist, from a good five paces. Smiling in satisfaction and pride at his mate, Angelus couldn’t help but wonder what Buffy’d be like when she learned the full use of her powers. He grew hard at the thought. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured, and earned a smile from Buffy as they skidded to a halt before everyone. 

“Decide to take a little jaunt into the woods children?” Faith asked torn between annoyance that they would, and jealously that they did, as the couple came to a stop in front of her. 

“What?” Buffy asked, already focused on what they had to do, and not on what already happened. 

Angelus shook his head, a smile still playing around the corners of his mouth. “Faith, really, would we do something like that? When you’re fighting the pathetic forces of hell here?” When the second slayer thought about that, wondered how angrey Buffy would be if she slipped and staked the blonde’s lover, Faith scowled. 

“If you wanted a quickie, Angelus,” she snarled, “Couldn’t you have waited until we’d won?” 

“If I wanted a quickie,” he purred, hands slipping around Buffy’s middle, “You would have heard my love shouting in ecstasy halfway around the world.” He laughed, both at Buffy’s elbow to his ribs, and Faith’s look. For so promiscuous a woman, she sure blushed prettily. “Jealous, Faithy?” 

She scowled at him, and was about to retort, when Buffy cut in. “We know where the First is, but we need to move quickly.” 

Shrugging at the end to his and Buffy’s foreplay – ah, his and Faith’s bantering – Angelus called to his son, “Connor!” When the boy jogged up to them, Angelus asked, “You mentioned something about knowing the Blood Harvest was soon, do you know how you knew that?” 

“No, I just do. I know that you and Buffy need to stop it but that’s all.” The boy looked frustrated at his limited knowledge. 

Growling, Angelus allowed, “It’s okay,” and squeezed Buffy’s waist, hard, when she giggled at his reaction. “Doyle,” Angelus shouted, switching tactics. “Is there anything the Powers, in their infinite fuck-ups, can do to help?” 

Shaking his head, and ignoring Angelus’ words, Doyle looked to his two companions who also shook their heads no as well. “We can protect the potentials, that’s it. The First was never meant to gain this much power, not for centuries at least. And by then, everything was supposed to be in balance and the potential’s lives no longer in danger.” 

“Okay,” Buffy said, looking to Angelus who nodded, reluctantly, in return. “Then you three stay with them. Do not let anything happen to them, if they really are the last, then should something happen to Faith; they’re going to need protection.” 

“Agreed, lass,” the former – now dead seer – nodded, “But we can’t stay after this battle. We’re here only because the balance is thrown out of whack, and the First has gained power it shouldn’t have.”

“Then guard Giles, Anya, Wesley, and Dawn, too.” Buffy looked over at the group and added, “Wes and Giles can train the next slayer, no matter what she says, Anya is the best source of a magickally inclined being you have,” Buffy looked at her dead friends, and wondered how she didn’t find this whole thing beyond bizarre. 

Giles was right, she’d spent too much time on the Hellmouth. 

“Alive, at least,” she amended. “And I want Dawn no where near this.” 

“Is the bitch dead yet?” Angelus asked indifferently. He truly didn’t care, but wanted to know for gloating purposes. 

“Ah, you mean Cordelia?” Willow ventured. At Angelus’ nod, she shook her head. “No, not yet.” 

“Damn. I really wanted to see her dead, maybe kick her a little bit. Give me a minute, lover; it won't take that long.” 

Buffy grabbed his arm and refused to let him leave. “We don’t have time for that,” she said in exasperation, no matter how much she wanted to let him do just that. “Cordelia isn’t important.” 

“Spoil all my fun,” he grumbled. 

Turning back to his son, Angelus asked, “Connor, what did you mean before, when you said we had to wait for the others? Did you mean these three?” He jerked his thumb towards the three ghost-like creatures. 

Again, the boy shrugged. “I don’t know; all I know is that you need to wait.” He frowned. “But not here. Wait there, wherever the First is.” 

“Willow, Tara?’ Buffy asked, again wanting to spend non-crisis time with her friends. No fairness here, that was for sure. 

“I’m sorry, Buffy,” Tara said, “We can’t.” 

Willow nodded in agreement, but then a thought occurred to the dead witch. “Baby?” 

Tara looked at her lover in question, and then nodded. “We can’t help you,” the blonde said, “But we can offer this.” She paused a moment as if to gather her thoughts, then, “Where one goes the other follows, where one lies the other rests, and where one flies the other catches. Eternity is forever and always is there, but the path requires one last payment; be careful what you make of it, life is often unforgiving but your hearts are; they and you need it.” 

Angelus looked at the duo askance. “Prophecies at a time like this?” 

“Couldn’t you just tell us straight out?” Buffy grumbled. 

“No,” Willow said, an apologetic look on her face, though there was laughter in her eyes. “Sorry, this was the only way they’d allow us to tell you; if we did it straight out, then that would be cheating. There’s been enough cheating, if the balance is to be maintained, it had to be this way. Cryptic and all, it’s fair; and not just for the souled vamps among us.” 

Angelus grimaced at that, but Buffy chuckled. “Okay,” Buffy said as she looked over to where the potentials clumped together waiting on their elders. The demons had all but stopped coming, but Buffy didn’t know why. Had the First realized that they knew of Its plans and was gathering all Its troops? Or was it something else, something Doyle, Willow, and Tara had done? 

Buffy didn’t know and didn’t care, this was it, they were out of time. The first rays of dawn were only hours away. 

“Angelus?” 

“I’m on it, love,” the tall vampire said, slipping the endearment in almost unconsciously. “Rupert!” 

As Angelus walked into the house, Buffy said to Connor, “This is it,” she told the group, Robin Wood, Gunn, Wesley, Connor, and Faith. “The only ones leaving that cave alive – in whatever form that may take – are us. Remember that first rule of fighting: Don’t die. Faith, you’re with me, sister. Ready?” 

Something sparked in Faith’s eyes, and the other slayer knew this was it, now was the time. Either step up and take over, or forever remain in the background, second best. So much for choices. “Yeah, B, I’m ready. Just like old times, eh?” 

“Life on the line, world in peril, down to the wire?” Buffy smiled, “Yeah, it really is.” 

“I’m going with Buffy!” They heard Dawn say as the younger Summers’ stormed through the courtyard doors, arms folded, mutinous look on her face. “There is no way in whatever Hell you want, that I’m letting you go face the First without me, Buffy.” 

“Oh, yes there is, Dawn. I need for you to be safe,” Buffy continued ignoring the audience around them. She stole a glance at Angelus, and saw that he was rounding up Giles and Anya, telling them the plan. One thing down. “If you’re safe, then I can fight knowing that I don’t have to worry about you. And if something should happen to me, then I want to know that you’ll be taken care of.” 

Dawn opened her mouth to protest but Buffy cut her off, her own stubbornness coming through. Angelus said nothing as he told Giles their plan – shoddily planned out as it was – but his eyes were locked on Buffy. he wasn’t disagreeing with her, and she got the strange feeling that he wanted Dawn safe, too. Was it because she, Buffy, needed her sister out of danger? Whatever, she was grateful for his silence. 

“I died for you once, Dawn, because I couldn’t let anything happen to you. If you’re there, I’ll worry about you too much and the First will have an edge that I can’t afford it to have.” It was a cheap shot but Buffy needed all the ammunition she could muster. “If you’re safe out of town, with Giles, Wes, and Anya, then I know you’ll be taken care of.” 

Swiftly gathering her sister into her arms, Buffy held on tightly and whispered, “I’ll find you, Dawnie, I swear it. I just need you safe. Please.” 

Dawn thought about protesting, about simply ditching her appointed guards and following Buffy anyway, but the look in her sister’s eyes stopped her. Nothing could happen to Buffy, either. She was all Dawn had left, and if the slayer said worrying about her sister was a distraction when fighting the First, then Dawn wanted to be safe. If only so her sister would be. 

Proud of the maturity she showed, Dawn nodded. “If anything happens to you, I’m going to bring you back again just to yell at you. Angel…Angelus,” she changed with a strange look over her shoulder, “Will be there. And much as I hate to admit it, I know he’ll protect you with his life. But I’m warning you, Buffy, you better come back to me.” 

Angelus steeped up then, eyeing the younger Summers. “I swear, I won’t allow anything to happen to your sister.” 

Part 8        Part 6

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