She’d woken up before Spike and Drusilla that evening. Not surprising, really. Drusilla was getting the first good, healthy night’s sleep she’d gotten in months. And Spike… Well, give Spike’s herculean performance last night, Buffy wondered if he’d wake up again this century.

And the thought of last night couldn’t help but bring a little smile to her face. Her inner thighs were pleasantly sore this evening, and her walking was a bit stilted. She hadn’t been this well and thoroughly screwed since he’d first turned her. Every so often her demon was still breaking into a satisfied purr at how good she’d gotten it.

However, while the demon side of her was fully satisfied, the human part was more conflicted. She loved Spike. It was hard for her now to remember a time when she hadn’t. But Spike and Dru? Angel’s final words to her flitted through the back of her mind, and she had to admit that she’d gotten more than she bargained for.

Not that she had anything particularly against Dru. If her elder had been just another member of the Willow-orgy group, Buffy might even have liked her. But Buffy loved Spike, and she wanted him all to herself, and she certainly didn’t want to share him with a vampiress who took precedence over her.

And, really, if Dru loved Spike they way she said she did, why would she want to share him with Buffy? Buffy knew that if she’d had the good fortune to sire a vampire as beautiful as Spike, she’d keep him all to herself, satisfy his every need and want so that he never even had to consider looking at another woman.

And her demon agreed with her on this part. Take him all for yourself. The pleasure you got last night was only with half his attention. Just imagine if all of that was entirely for you…

The very thought sent shivers down Buffy’s spine.

But, while one part of her human psyche dwelled on pleasure, the other was feeling very real pain. “Love you both.” Now, what the fuck did that mean? He’d told her he loved her, but then he turned around and told Dru the same thing?

And she’d seen the way Spike and Drusilla had made love, like two mates perfectly suited to each other. As much as she wanted to, she didn’t really think it had ever been that way between the two of them. And then there were the little jokes, the subtle references, the looks that conveyed more than Buffy’d ever communicated with Spike. There was an intimate knowledge there that made her feel very much like a third wheel. After all, Dru had a century-plus head start with Spike. Why would he ever want to bother look back at Buffy?

If he loves me, then that should mean that he loves me and only me. Not Dru or anyone else. That was what her human half was insisting.

Only a fool would question a sire’s love when freely given, barked back the demon.

It was an internal battle that wasn’t getting any easier.

But Buffy’s attention was thankfully diverted when the upstairs lights flicked off, bringing her mind back to the matter at hand.

Willow, Cordelia, and Xander had been up when she’d left that evening. Apparently last night’s parent-revenge plan had been postponed by hours of raucous sex. But the trio was ready for their daily dose of violence tonight. Tentative plans had even been made to drop by Willow and Cordelia’s houses. Make it a grand night of parenticide.

Willow had nagged and taunted Buffy, trying to get her to go with them. Pouty lips offering to let her go after her own mother and surrogate father, little sniffles when Willow bemoaned the fact that Dru had decreed that no one could kill Giles without Buffy’s permission.

Buffy had picked up that her former watcher and the new slayer had crashed the ritual last night, heard the pride in Spike’s voice that Dru had bagged her first slayer and the devotion in Dru’s voice when she told him it had all been for him. But Buffy really hadn’t had time to think about what had happened to Giles before then.

And she was very surprised to find herself glad that he was still alive. So she’d somehow managed to worm her way out of Willow’s hunt, but had naturally been drawn back here nonetheless.

Home.

Or was it?

She saw shadows move behind the drawn shades on the first floor. Two, at least. She guessed her mom and Giles were in the living room. And she did feel a little pang inside that she couldn’t even enter her own house to join them.

It seemed, perhaps, that they were moving out. Buffy watched, safely concealed in the shadows, as the door opened and her mother emerged with two boxes.

Buffy had noticed the van in front before now, of course, but she hadn’t made any connection to her house. Now, however… “Mommy?” She’d stepped forward and spoken before she even had time to think that she was deep in enemy territory.

“Buffy?” Joyce’s voice sounded hollow, frayed, but surprisingly not frightened. She squinted out into the darkness, trying to spot the night predator.

Buffy took a few steps forward and, in the nearly full-moon light, it was enough for Joyce to spot the shadowy figure. “What are you doing?” Buffy asked with a frown, eyes never leaving her mother, wanting to move closer even as she feared that Joyce would retaliate with some sort of defensive measure.

Joyce set the boxes in the back of the van. “We’re moving out,” she answered simply and without any pretense.

“Out? Out, where?” Buffy continued to move closer, drawn by her mother’s heartbeat like a moth to a flame.

Joyce sighed. “Rupert and I are leaving town, Buffy,” she answered. “There’s too much pain and loss here.”

“B-But you were just saying you were starting to really like Sunnydale,” Buffy protested, sounding more like a teenage girl who didn’t want to move away from her friends than a vampire.

“I did, but…” Joyce trailed off with a sigh, apparently not surprised by how little daughter seemed to have changed. “It’s not safe here. Not for me and Rupert.”

Yellow anger flashed in Buffy’s eyes at that. “No demon will dare touch you without my permission,” she insisted vehemently.

Joyce managed a tired smile at that. “I’m sure they won’t,” she agreed. “But… Rupert and I have lost all our ties here. It’s not our home anymore.”

“And somewhere else is?” Buffy countered.

“No, but we’d like to try to make a new start somewhere else,” Joyce explained. “Begin again and hope to find happiness once more.”

“Without me?”

A maternal pang ached in Joyce’s chest at the fear and sadness in her daughter’s voice. “I-I thought that was how it worked, with vampires. Don’t you have a new family now?”

Buffy finally emerged into the light from the porch lamp and nodded.

“Then you don’t need me anymore,” Joyce said sadly.

“But I love you,” Buffy insisted, fighting at her own tears. And, god, since when did demons cry, anyway? “A-And I could always make you part of my new family,” she grasped upon the sudden idea. “I could…” She trailed off, knowing even then that she wouldn’t, not unless her mother asked her.

Joyce shook her head in apology. “I know that, despite what Rupert says, you’re still my Buffy deep down,” she informed her daughter. “And if being a demon makes you happy, then I’m happy for you, too. But it’s not for me. I want to live in my world and die in it.” Tears wet her cheeks, and she wiped at them in vain.

“You’re really leaving me, then?” Buffy’s voice sounded uncharacteristically frightened.

“It doesn’t mean that I love you any less.” Joyce held out her arms experimentally and was surprised at how fast her little girl ran into them, clinging to her and sobbing. “Just that our paths have grown apart,” she soothed, stroking Buffy’s hair. Strange to feel her daughter’s body so cool, but she didn’t dwell on it, savoring their good-bye.

Not even recognizing it as a vampiric gesture, Buffy nuzzled her mother’s throat affectionately. “I’ll miss you, mommy.”

“I’ll miss you, too, baby,” Joyce promised. “This…Spike? He’s taking good care of you, right?”

Buffy managed a little blush at that. “He’s wonderful to me.”

Joyce smiled. “I hope you’ll be very happy together,” she announced.

Buffy couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdity of this situation. Girl-talking with her mom about the man who’d made her into a demon. “What about you and Giles? You going to be happy, too?” She left just the right amount of innuendo on the word ‘happy’.

“We’ll see,” Joyce replied with a wistful smile that had Buffy hoping that Giles would see the light soon. She caught her mother in for another fierce hug.

“Joyce, what are you—?” a voice interrupted them, halting in shock mid-syllable at what appeared to be Buffy feeding from her mother’s throat. “No, not again,” Giles’ face turned ashen white, and he fumbled quickly for the cross at his belt.

Buffy and Joyce pulled apart at that moment, however, and he breathed an audible sigh of relief that Joyce was unharmed. “It’s all right, Rupert,” Joyce tried to assure him.

“I highly doubt that,” he countered, gulping at how close the vampiress’ fangs still were to Joyce’s throat. “Make one move to harm her,” he warned Buffy coldly, “and I shall personally send you to hell.” He brandished his cross, causing Buffy to flinch back.

“Rupert, please,” Joyce insisted. “She’s not here to hurt us.”

“Is that what she told you?” Giles demanded, offering Joyce his hand in hopes that he could put himself safely between her and the danger. “Didn’t I warn you that vampires are treacherous, deceitful, inhuman—”

“Stop!” Joyce’s voice was stern and angry. “Rupert, it’s Buffy! I know you love her, so stop treating her like she’s some kind of wild beast.”

“But that’s exactly what this,” he gestured to Buffy, “is. Do not be fooled by the demon’s outward appearance.”

“I am Buffy!” Buffy exclaimed with a roar then, face vamping out with rage. “I don’t care what those stupid wankers in the Watchers Council told you. They’ve got it all wrong. I’m me.” A frustrated exclamation escaped her lips. “Why can’t you just leave me alone? God, you’re even stuffier than you were when I was human…”

The random emotional outbursts and sullen teenage grumbling were almost enough to convince him. He wasn’t about to let some fledgling trick him away from decades of Council research, however. “I cannot leave you alone because you were once a slayer, and it is the responsibility of the Watchers Council to ensure that you are terminated.”

“Terminated?” Buffy repeated with a gasp of disbelief. “Great. First you people rob me of my life and force me to do a job that gets me killed. And, then, when I come back to life, you’re ready to drive the stake right through my heart.” Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. “How many times do you have to ruin my life before you’re happy?”

“Rupert…” Joyce pleaded, slipping her arm around Buffy’s shoulders. “Hasn’t this cost enough misery already?”

“So you suggest we just leave her be to kill countless innocents?” he countered, expression softening at Buffy’s pleas.

“So I get singled out over every other vampire. Great,” she said sarcastically. “And here I thought I was finally free of being ‘chosen’. You do know that Spike and Dru will just keep killing the slayers you send, right?”

The coldness to human death was new, but the cynical stubbornness? “What would you have me do?” he retorted, still all too aware that Joyce was in a precarious position to be taken as a hostage.

“‘Oh yes, I managed to dust Buffy prior to my heroic escape from Spike’s evil clutches. More tea and crumpets?’” she affected a horrible British accent.

Giles couldn’t help himself. Glasses were removed and quickly cleaned. “Promise me you’ll never do that again,” he half begged.

A wicked smile curved the corners of Buffy’s lips, but she just shook her head. “Take care of each other,” she offered in parting before turning her back on them and heading toward the now-dark house.

Giles stood there, stunned for a moment before Joyce tugged gently on his arm and led him into the van. “The rest…”

“The movers can handle it,” she assured him, fastening her seatbelt as he put the van in gear.

A sigh and one last look at where Buffy had vanished into the doorway of the now-vacant house, and he pulled out, heading for a new and different life. One where he need not necessarily follow the rules of the Watchers Council anymore…

Only a block from the Summers’ former home, he came to a stop only to see a familiar figure cross the street in front of him. For a second, the figure froze right in the middle of the street, tensing for attack before realizing it wasn’t coming. Nonchalantly, he continued his walk up Revello Drive.

Rupert, old man, you’re growing soft…

Giles rolled down the window. “You may tell your childe that the Watchers Council believes her dead,” he said firmly and clearly into the dark of night.

The black-clad figure froze for one second. “Good to know,” he commented casually before continuing on his way.

Giles pulled away from the scene with a screech of tires. Best to leave this town before he lost his mind completely…

“Spike?” Joyce inquired curiously.

A reluctant nod.

“At least my daughter knows how to pick ‘em…” Joyce commented with a satisfied smile. She’d seen Spike’s eyes only for an instant when he stood in the beam of the headlights, but there was a humanity there she could admire. She liked to think herself a good judge of character, and if that was Buffy’s lover then she wasn’t worried. Not to mention the fact he’d been incredibly handsome. Perhaps Buffy would be all right after all…

“I figure,” Giles began nervously, “I’m just giving her the same odds every other vampire has. Is it so unfair not to want her to be at a severe disadvantage straight from the beginning?”

“Not at all,” Joyce assured him with a smile. “Not at all…”

“Mmm,” Buffy purred, rolling over to nuzzle her face into Spike’s chest as he crawled onto her old bed beside her. It was kind of odd having him here in her human room, like her past and present lives had become fussed in a confusing mishmash. But she wouldn’t give up the comfort of his strong body for anything in the world. “Where’s Dru?” she inquired curiously.

“Hunting,” he replied with a snort. “She said I was bein’ distracting so she went off on her lonesome.”

“Betcha were being distracting,” she accused with a grin.

He gave her an unashamed smirk. “’S what I do best, luv,” he purred against her.

“That you do,” she agreed with a sigh, stroking his cheek casually. She began nibbling at her lower lip nervously.

“Saw your mum and Rupert driving away,” he provided. “They on your mind?”

She groaned at that. “Are you disappointed that I let them go?” she asked nervously.

He raised a quizzical eyebrow at that. “Why would I be disappointed?” he countered.

“Because Willow’s out there killing her parents right now, I bet. I mean, isn’t that what vampires are supposed to do? That’s what Angel said, at least…”

He rolled his eyes heavenwards. “One, who gives a damn what Red does? You’re my childe. You’re the one I love,” he counted off on his fingers. “Two, vampires aren’t s’posed to do anything. We do whatever we bloody well want. Make up your own damn rules. ‘S what I always do. And, three…” Narrowed blue eyes fixed on hers, entrancing her. “Angelus always was a wanker,” he completed with a grin.

She laughed at that and decided to take point number two to heart. She knew exactly what she wanted right then, and she tasted it on his lips, kissing him slowly and deeply before pulling away again.

He purred and nuzzled her this time. “If it helps,” he whispered in her ear, “I let my mum live, too…”

She turned to look at him in surprise at that, and he gave her a sheepish shrug. “I felt…strangely human tonight,” she confessed softly, no longer feeling afraid to tell him these things.

He let out a snort at that. “Get used to it, pet,” he advised her. “Human emotions’ll sneak up on you at the oddest times. Part of the whole integration thing. Human and demon balancing themselves out inside you right now. Gets better over time, of course, but every so often…” He smiled. “Well, even Dru still has her human moments.”

Buffy sighed. “You love her very much.”

“Damn straight,” he agreed matter-of-factly. “And I love you very much, too.”

“But you love her more,” Buffy guessed.

He frowned at that. “No,” he corrected. “I love her for bein’ Dru. I love you for bein’ Buffy. Two completely different beasts, luv, comparin’ them makes about as much sense as comparin’ apples and oranges.”

“But how can…?” she trailed off with a frustrated sigh.

He stroked her hair back off her forehead slowly, guiding her gently back into the protective curve of his arms. “My advice is to forget all that ‘Gone With the Wind’ crap humans are fed about love. You know, they say we can’t feel it, when they’re the closed-minded ones. Bloody hypocritical.” His lips brushed the golden hairs on the crown of her head. “Someday you’ll know what it means to love two people at once, kitten,” he promised her, “and you’ll never be happier.”

She sighed and decided she really didn’t want to think about it right now. “It feels weird being back here,” she commented.

He nodded in agreement and then scowled. “‘New Kids on the Block’?” he read the poster incredulously. “And they say demons are evil?”

“Like the Sex Pistols have sooo much more staying power,” she jibbed him lightly.

He growled at that. “’d teach you a good and proper lesson,” he threatened before wincing, “if you and Dru hadn’t ridden me half to my second death last night…”

She giggled and pulled him up against her, cradling his head between her breasts. “I love you,” she whispered fondly. “So much…”

Fingernails painted black teased lightly at her bellybutton through the silky red fabric of her blouse. “Come with us, then,” he whispered.

“Come with you?” Buffy repeated, suddenly confused.

He propped himself up to look at her. “Me and Dru,” he began carefully, “we’re not exactly clan vamps. Like to do our fair share of roamin’, y’know? Test whether the grass really is greener on the other side…”

“You’re leaving town?” The notion was terrifying and exhilarating to her all at once.

“Got what we wanted,” he countered. “Dru’s as strong as ever, and picked up a lovely childe along the way.” His fingers twined with hers, and for a second she was stunned by the tender intimacy of the gesture. He brought her hand up to his lips and kissing her knuckles gently. “Don’t want to wear out our welcome on the Hellmouth.”

“Especially because sooner or later the Order of Aurelius will find out about your little coup and set things right again?” she guessed astutely.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about,” he grumbled under his breath. “Not afraid of those wankers.”

“You’re just tired of the Hellmouth,” she repeated incredulously.

“Well, Red’s starting to seriously disturb me,” he conceded. “And ‘s sunny every single day. Never can get out much.”

“So, you want me to run off with you and Dru?” she repeated. “What about the others?”

“They’ve got their own unlives,” he shrugged.

She bit her lip and smiled slowly.

“Now, I know you enjoyed yourself last night,” he purred seductively. “Could spend eternity like that…”

The grin broke out across her face. “Always wanted to get out of Sunnyhell,” she agreed.

He leaned in and kissed her passionately in response. “There’s my girl,” he whispered fondly before pulling back and taking a deep breath of relief. “Whew. Glad I don’t hafta tell Dru we’re leavin’ you behind.”

“She really wants me to come?” Buffy said, unsure.

“Predicted it, she did,” he agreed with an earnest nod. “So, s’pose I should’ve known you’d agree…”

“Because Dru’s never wrong?” she asked skeptically.

“Not it all the years I’ve known her. ‘Least, not when she’d havin’ one of her visions,” he insisted proudly.

“I thought she foresaw her own death,” Buffy countered.

He frowned. “Prob’ly just misread her,” he brushed it off. “Was talking about someone else. Maybe one of you all who got vamped. Or that slayer she killed, even.”

“Uh-huh,” Buffy sounded less than thoroughly convinced by Dru’s psychic veracity. Rationalizing, her mind said what her lips wouldn’t. After all, Spike’s pride in his sire was actually kind of cute. She brushed a kiss across his lips. “When do we leave?” she wondered.

“Just as soon as you get done broodin’,” he retorted with an irascible smirk.

A gasp of outrage escaped Buffy’s lips as he got up. “I. Do. Not. Brood!” she exclaimed vehemently, before chasing after him with a laugh…

Buffy looked back through the painted black glass of the rear window and could just make out the vague outline of Willow’s form. Gloating, no doubt, that she was now in charge of the Hellmouth. But for how long was anyone’s guess.

She’d been surprised at how little fanfare their leaving had caused. Willow’s little family unit and Sayo and Julien had paid their respects, and Dalton had looked up from his books and grunted. For everyone else, it seemed like they’d always known this was a passing thing. The world could change from day to day even for immortals…

“Can I drive?” Buffy asked curiously from the back seat as Spike handed her the last of their bags. This one didn’t fit in the trunk and got stowed under the seat. Either Spike or Dru had had the brilliance at some point to yank down the full back seat into a makeshift bed.

Spike gave her a suspicious look. “You even know how to drive?” he demanded.

“You can teach me,” she suggested.

A nervous gulp. “Later, luv,” he promised, shutting the back door and leaving her in the back seat.

“That means he’ll let you drive once we get settled somewhere else, and he can steal another car for you,” Drusilla provided, curling up on the back seat of the DeSoto and yawning contentedly. “So protective of his baby, our William is. I hope you’re prepared to share his love.”

Spike sat down in the driver’s seat and revved the engine to life. “You mocking my baby?” he half-teased Dru.

“Praising her,” she corrected instantly, looking falsely apologetic.

He snorted and pulled away. “Think some ponce put the town sign back up?” he inquired, lighting up a fag and taking in a lungful of smoke.

“Sign?” Buffy questioned, noticing Dru was already trying to fall asleep.

“I’ll wake up with a holler when he crashes through it,” Drusilla offered with a grumble, pulling the blanket up over her head.

“Never thought ‘d see the day when she objected to a li’l mindless destruction,” he countered in a light-hearted tone, already feeling his spirits lift as he started to put the miles between them and the Hellmouth. “Hold on, luv,” he advised Buffy, “we’re in for a bump.”

With maniacal glee, the car smashed through the road-sign and raced out of town.

Spike chuckled.

Drusilla groaned and went to sleep through the long ride.

And Buffy couldn’t help but watch, fascinated, as the world sped by them, eternity waiting on the horizon…