She raced around the corner and skidded to a halt in the alley. And, somewhere deep in the back of her mind, she sensed that she’d done this all hundreds of times before. But the thought was elusive, and she was back in that dark alley, and Thanos raised the stake high and…

“No!”

It was Spike this time. Unquestionably Spike and only Spike.

She ran for him, already knowing that she was too late to prevent his fate. Wide blue eyes looked up at her for one last moment before her love collapsed into a shower of dust.

A shriek of despair rose from her throat, and she tackled his murderer, fists and fangs flying wildly as she beat him into the ground. “No, no, no, no, no, no…” She sobbed out her mantra over and over again, as if that would make Spike’s final death any less real.

And, as she beat upon his attacker, she realized that it wasn’t Thanos, after all. No, it was that demon hunter from so long ago…Wood? That had been his name. But, no, it was that slayer she’d killed – Kennedy. And then it was last night’s dinner. Giles. Willow, in her human form. And then, last but not least, Buffy’s own human face looked back up at her…

“We are billions,” human-Buffy taunted her. “Sooner or later, even immortals are drowned within our deluge…”

“No!” vampire-Buffy screamed out one last time as she slit the throat of her doppelganger…
 
 

…And awoke with a gasp.

For a minute, Buffy lay there with the horrifying certainty that Spike was dust, and her world had ended. But, slowly, the cracks began to appear in that theory. For one, she wasn’t in that alley – hadn’t been for over fifty years, in fact – as the walls of the cabin around her testified. Second, if she listened to her demon closely enough, she could hear the siren song that was his presence. Still far off, but not so far as it had been only yesterday. He beckoned to her, summoned her…

With a deep sigh, she realized that it was just that damn dream again. She’d been having it off and on ever since she’d lost her childe. The only subconscious fears a vampire of her power had anymore – the loss of those she loved… This was the first time Parker hadn’t won himself a role as another of Thanos/Death/Choose Your Own Enemy’s victims. Just Spike this time, killed by a slew of humans. Including…

She couldn’t help but smile wryly to herself at the last face Death had taken before she’d strangled it to death. Guess the old adage holds true: You always wake up right before you die…

With that lighter thought, the moment of panic passed, and Buffy realized much to her relief that it was nighttime once more. The final leg of her journey about to begin.

She rose from bed, untangling the sheets from her nude limbs, and dressed slowly and methodically. She could still feel the waves rocking beneath her, which meant that they were still out to sea yet. But it couldn’t be much longer. And, indeed, as she walked out onto the deck, she could see several small lights on the horizon. Shore wasn’t far now…

She leaned against the railing and allowed herself to concentrate on the voices calling to her demon. She and Spike and Drusilla had become something like a three-part organism, she’d decided one day when she’d been in the mood for particularly unflattering similes. The three of them could travel apart, move in completely opposite directions, but some engrained thread of life always drew them back together. They could stretch the bonds between them, but always they snapped back. To each other. To home.

She’d seen them both often enough since she first left them to start her own little empire. One or the other of them would pass through Auckland at erratic intervals. They’d make love and hunt and even squabble before they’d satisfied themselves with each other’s company once more and drifted off on their own again. Living separate lives, but always a part of each other…

The three of them hadn’t come together all at once since she’d left Lagos, however. It had been more chance than intention, really, but thoughts of a complete family reunion had been stirring in the back of Buffy’s mind long before now. Long before she got the call.

At one point – right after she’d left them and taken up her own mantle of power for the first time – she would’ve refused. She’d led a rather joyful existence these past eighty years, ruling her kingdom. She’d left on occasion just to spice things up, of course. For a whole decade, she’d run after Spike to Singapore, rediscovered the delights of a nomad’s life, as well as the pleasure of laying in his arms every night. But then she’d returned, found chaos, and discovered equal joy in destroying all opposition once more, reclaiming her power bit by bit. Constant challenge and struggle. The marks of a successful and happy immortality…

But her attention had been straying as of late, growing tired of a place she’d stayed in for too long. And, while she’d always remain fond of her time spent there, it was time for something else. So she’d welcomed Drusilla’s call when it came.

Now, Buffy had sensed many things through the connection between the three of them over the years. She imagined Dru and Spike sensed even more from each other, mated as they were. But even she would get glimpses of their lives, strong bursts of emotion, occasional thoughts sent her way. This latest call was more potent than anything she’d felt before, however. A message sent to her intentionally in a way she hadn’t even realized they could communicate with each other before.

Come.

The message wasn’t urgent or demanding. It was simply a request. A longing – much like the one she felt – for the three of them to be together once more. The excitement had built within her on the trip over the ocean, as each night she heard Dru’s voice a little louder in her mind. On the fourth day, Spike had joined in the call, and she knew that her two sires had already reunited…

The shore was close now. Buffy could make out a lighthouse and a few lights from ships around the port. But, for the most part, the land was black as pitch.

It was a strange thought. She hadn’t visited her homeland in well over a century. Environmental, political, and social upheaval had long since torn apart the country of her birth. It was a poor land now, vast tracts of the continent uninhabitable desert or seas, only scattered, disorganized communities living on the fringes of the North American continent. 

Once – in her mortal lifetime – the coast before them would’ve been alight with millions of watts of electricity. Now the semi-arid region could no longer afford such extravagant wastes. Nature balanced out all else in the end.

The ship docked and, almost instantly, Buffy was over the side and onto the dock, her travelling bag hoisted over one shoulder. She traveled light – only a few changes of clothes and several trinkets. Anything else she could acquire after a few well-placed kills.

The night was warm, and the air stunk of the faint smell of phosphorous. A worse smog cloud than they’d ever imagined back in LA when she was a kid. But the entire area – with the exception of a few cities – had been reduced to the industrial age once more, and they all paid the consequences with foul air. Thankfully, as a vampire, she could just not breathe.

She dashed through the night, out of the small coastal settlement and down the coast. Instinctively, she’d known where she’d find Spike and Dru, but the force of the Hellmouth still washed over her like a thick, oily wave as she drew closer. Not even that dark presence could sour her mood, however, nor could being back in Sunnydale once more after all these years. Although it appeared the town by the Hellmouth was now called San Marcia. Same difference.

Everything was different, of course. Just a decade shy of two centuries now, and the world she’d grown up had completely vanished. No more landmarks she recognized, no buildings, no people…

Except, of course, for those who had summoned her in the first place.

She sensed the presence of others of her kind without effort. She could feel them like a tingle along her spine now, much like she had when she was a slayer. In fact, it was downright strange how much being a powerful demon was like being a slayer. Not for the first time, she wondered really how much of a difference there was. Except, of course, that she didn’t have to die this way…

She almost laughed when she found the place. And, oh, it was definitely the place. The old warehouse had gone over the years, but this old mansion looked as though it could’ve come from her old days in Sunnydale, although she doubted it was quite that old. But apparently it had at least been around at the same time as her hometown because an old worn sign proclaiming the building the ‘Sunnydale Historical Society’ hung out front. Apparently, geeky!Willow had survived in some form after all…

The fledglings at the door were weak and actually had some common sense. They didn’t even try to stop her as she passed through. It made sense that Willow’s descendants would’ve been chosen to be smarter than the average bear. The sense of familiarity hung about everything she saw, yet Buffy hadn’t fully absorbed it until she saw Willow in the flesh.

A slow smile curved across the redheaded vampiress’ face, and she rose from her little makeshift throne. “We were taking bets on when you’d finally get here,” she said lightly by way of greeting.

Buffy managed to smile back and accepted the hug she was offered. “It’s been a century.”

“Longer,” Willow corrected. She nuzzled Buffy’s hair affectionately before brushing a soft kiss across her lips. “You taste…powerful,” she whispered, green eyes sparkling.

“So do you,” Buffy agreed, pulling back.

“That was a nice way of saying ‘old’,” Willow teased.

“Same here,” Buffy shot back.

The other vampiress let out a laugh and caught Buffy’s hand in hers. “Oh, what a fool I was to think that I could ever tame you,” she decided. “You are every bit as wild as your Sire.”

“And that’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Buffy felt her cheeks flush slightly.

“But you’ve just missed him.” Willow shook her head in disappointment. “He went out into the west to hunt.”

“Rotten timing.”

“Mother’s still here, of course…”

Buffy found herself being led up an old spiral staircase and down a lengthy hall toward a row of doors. Bedrooms, no doubt. “How is this place still standing?” she wondered in disbelief. It really was like walking into the past. The old California elegance that had been the style among the most affluent during her lifetime.

“Would you believe it’s the old Chase Mansion?” Willow commented over her shoulder, her voice almost devoid of pain.

“Oh…” Buffy’s voice turned subdued.

“They were going to tear it down quite some time back. Some trivial human problem with the power grid. But our kind doesn’t need such luxuries. And I felt the need to preserve something…” Willow trailed off.

Buffy couldn’t blame her. Even if it hadn’t once been Cordy’s home, it had to have been unnerving to see everything you knew wither away with time. The need to preserve some memories from a bygone era must have been insurmountable. It made her all the more glad that she’d been halfway across the world as Sunnydale was replaced brick by brick.

“Things have changed,” Buffy commented non-committally as they stopped outside one of the bedroom doors.

Willow froze in place for a moment, her body tensed with some emotion Buffy couldn’t identify. “That’s what time does,” she finally stated flatly. “Most of the humans are gone now, you know. Not enough food and water to keep so many alive.”

“The Hellmouth’s doing?” Buffy guessed.

Willow shrugged. “Or nature. Hard to tell the difference sometimes.” She put a finger up to her lips. “Still sleeping,” she whispered before opening the door.

Buffy entered behind her and caught her breath at the sight on the bed. Drusilla lay there, completely nude amidst the crimson sheets. Her body was as pale and perfect as Buffy had remembered – no, more so, for that cloud of innocence that seemed to hang about her in moments of repose. Of course, the scents in the room were anything but innocent. Buffy’s own passions flared to life at the scent of Spike’s sex. He’d pleasured Dru quite thoroughly the previous night, undoubtedly. In fact, she realized belatedly that Willow held his scent about her as well.

“Having orgies without me?” she teased.

“You were taking your sweet time getting here,” Willow shrugged, crawling back into the bed. Her little black skirt rode up high on her thighs as she settled back in beside Dru. “You must be tired from your trip.” She gestured for Buffy to join them.

With a sigh, Buffy dropped her bag and slipped off her blouse and pants. Sleeping with clothes on was just so inefficient. A purr rumbling through her chest, she lay beside Dru, her nostrils flaring against the elder vampiress’ hair, savoring their closeness once more.

“Knew my golden girl would come…”

Buffy grinned. She’d long gotten used to Dru’s habit of awaking rather abruptly, and it never startled her anymore. “Literally golden again.” She tossed her once-again-blonde hair over one shoulder.

“Back to the beginning in so many ways…” Dru sighed. Her fingers tangled in Buffy’s shoulder-length golden locks, and she pulled her childe down to her for a slow, smoldering kiss.

Buffy moaned against her sire, her tongue tangling with the other vampiress’ languidly, exploring familiar tastes and sensations. With a little gasp, she found herself suddenly flipped over on her back, Drusilla’s slim body coming to rest atop hers.

“Mommy missed you.” Dru looked up at her from under dark eyelashes, her lips mere millimeters from Buffy’s breast. “Does my girl still taste of rosebuds in the spring?”

“Missed you, too…” Buffy managed to murmur dazedly before Dru’s mouth descended upon her breast, and the world turned bright white with pleasure.

Willow purred as she watched the two women join, fingers sliding into slick, naughty places. Lazily, she lay back against the headboard, enjoying spying upon this tender reunion.

“Lovely sight to come home to…”

Willow looked in surprise to the door. It wasn’t often she was caught off-guard like that.

Drusilla started to say something, but then Buffy’s thumb found her clit, and the blonde bit hard into her shoulder with blunt teeth, and with a scream, Dru came.

Buffy grinned in satisfaction, catching her sire in her arms. “Told you I missed you,” she whispered against long locks of raven-black hair. It was only then when she realized the newcomer had arrived.

“Miss me, too, luv?” Spike smirked.

And Buffy felt her throat go dry. His skin was as pale and perfect as she’d remembered, and it contrasted sharply with the short, black leather vest he wore. It was a warm night, and he’d gone shirtless beneath it, exposing every curve of alabaster muscle to her eager eyes. His pants were dark, tight, and black, and he was obviously very aroused within them. 

But it was the sight of his hair that brought her back to that primal passion that had first overtaken her more than anything else. Styles cycled about through the centuries, and for the first time in quite a while, platinum hair was quite popular again. He’d taken instant advantage of the trend, and his hair was white and slicked back just as it had been when she’d first met him. So beautiful…

“Oh yes,” she whispered huskily. She sat up, cradling Dru’s body between her and Willow’s, and rose to meet this vision from her past. “Always miss you, gorgeous,” she purred, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck and leaping up in his arms as she stole a passionate kiss from his lips.

He caught her to him roughly, the bare flesh of his stomach pressed against hers, the soft leather of his vest rubbing erotically against the hardened points of her nipples. His lips were violent, demanding, hungry. His tongue invaded her mouth, conquering her from within, even as he threw her naked body roughly down on the bed beneath him.

She moaned with need, feeling almost as desperate for him as she had that night when he’d first taken her. Her demon screamed Sire! in her ear, and she didn’t fight it, didn’t hold it back. So easy and so delightful to cave into her wilder nature, her hands clawing at his pants, pulling him free, feeling him long and hard between her palms.

With a low growl, he caught her wrists, locked them up above her head with a bruising grip, and rammed his cock so hard and deep inside of her she saw sparks. There was nothing gentle about this mating at all. He plundered her slick passage over and over, stabbing at her core violently.

She screamed and writhed beneath him, clenching her inner muscles around him, and bruising just as good as she got it. She heard him grunt with exertion each time he pulled himself free of her vise grip, and she locked her legs about his waist, trapping him within her clutches.

In a final effort of wild, uneven thrusts, he pounded her womb, releasing her wrists. Instantly, her hands were upon his body, clawing, drawing blood, marking him as hers. His forehead pressed against hers, and with one final roar and a thrust, he came, pouring his pleasure into her body.

She fell just behind him, clutching him to her, her lips kissing his throat wildly…

They ended up in a very exhausted tangle in the middle of the bed, both panting unnecessarily at their exertions.

Finally, and with great effort, Spike rolled of off her. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?” he quoted.

She murmured her lazy agreement and snuggled against his body.

“Pretty, pretty babies,” Dru cooed, moving for the first time and sidling up against Spike’s other side. With one hand, she reached out for Willow to rest beside her.

The redheaded vampiress watched them all with interest – and more than a little bit of lust – before finally joining them. “Should have family reunions more often,” she commented with an enigmatic little smile.

Spike mumbled his agreement against Buffy’s throat. “Someone takin’ care of Red?” he asked sleepy, somewhat concerned that one of his girls hadn’t gotten off yet.

“I’ve got everything I need right here,” Willow insisted. Her hand stroked lazily across Dru’s thigh to Spike’s and finally to Buffy’s, before moving back. “More treasures in this world than pretty bodies…”

“Too true.” Drusilla caught Willow’s hand and guided it to her breast.

Willow hummed with satisfaction. “Mommy’s always been too good to me.”

“Anything for my green-eyed pixie,” Dru agreed with a giggle.

Willow leaned over, curtaining Dru with her shoulder-length crimson hair, and kissed her softly. “And such a rare prize I require of you…”

Dru smiled knowingly.

Buffy just nuzzled against Spike in wonderful contentment. In the back of her mind, she knew that a Willow plan couldn’t lead to any good. But right then she was too happy to care. Oh yes, it had definitely been too long…

“Right, then.” With herculean effort, Spike finally arose once more. Wicked blue eyes fixed upon Willow, and she let out a little squeak of alarm before he tackled her down to the bed beneath him, covering her with his body and filling her with his cock. “Never leave a lady unsatisfied,” he whispered against her with almost a Williamish tint to his accent.

“Such a good boy,” Dru cooed in agreement, watching the two bodies thrust together rhythmically.

Buffy scootched over slightly, pillowing her head on Dru’s shoulder and let sleep overtake her. She was weary from the journey, after all. And she had all the time in the world to figure out why they were all here. Tomorrow…