Yanking her blonde hair into a knot, Buffy walked out into the middle of the shop floor, prepared to begin the ceremony that would restore her soul. “What do we do?” she asked hesitantly as she stepped into the circle Willow and Wesley had painted on the shop floor. The table had been moved in order to make room for all of them and now they stood, nervously waiting for instruction.
Wesley consulted the faxed papers Giles had forwarded to them. “Buffy, you and Angel need to face each other. Connor will be placed in the middle. The Orb of Degor will be placed in the center. I will perform the incantation, and call upon your souls to be returned to you. Connor, as the key, will act as the anchor, and will them back to you.”
“I still don’t understand how this works on me,” Buffy told him. “Connor’s soul and mine have nothing in common.”
“It’s not entirely clear, but I have to trust Mr. Giles in the matter. He would never put you in harm’s way,” Wesley told her.
“You’ll all have something in common soon,” Angelus swore, seething. “Your souls will be together…because I’m going to kill you all, one after the other.” His eyes ticked to Buffy. “Think the third time’s a charm, lover? Will you actually stay dead this time? Or maybe for once make it to heaven?” Buffy scowled. “I doubt it. Heaven’s never wanted you before…why would things be different this time around?”
The Slayer lunged at him. “Okay, okay,” Xander broke in, stepping between them. “Let’s just do the ritual and then everyone can be friends again, okay?”
Buffy glared over Xander’s shoulder at the vampire behind him, but stepped back. “Something goes wrong, and this doesn’t work?” she spat, “we’re going to find out how many places you can stake a vampire without killing him.” She returned to her spot on the floor, designated by Wesley, and crossed her arms. “Just for fun.”
“Only a few more minutes now,” Wesley said reverently, and stepped towards the circle. He opened his mouth to speak when the doorbell over the shop rang again. The group turned to find Spike standing in the doorway.
“Oh, good. It’s Avon calling,” Xander groaned. “I told you before…leave. You don’t get to be here, you don’t—”
Spike ignored him. “I need to talk with the Slayer for a bit. Nothing that concerns you, Harris. Or any of the rest of you.”
Buffy glanced around, unsure. “Can’t this wait, Spike? We’re in the middle of something here.”
Spike’s expression was sincere. “No, it really can’t. Just take a minute, I swear, then I’ll leave you to your night of dark magic.”
The Slayer considered with a sigh and trounced to the front of the shop. He opened the door for her and she eyed him carefully before stepping through and out onto the Sunnydale streets. Once outside she turned to him, arms crossed over her chest. “You’ve got five minutes.”
“So you’re gonna go through with this, are you?” he asked gently.
She nodded. “Well…yeah.”
“Then I have to ask…why?”
An eyebrow raised in surprise. “Why? Because…I need to be me again.”
He let out a low chuckle. “Right. The pain and the hurt that is your world is better than the nothing that’s set up shop in your body right now.”
“It—it is.”
“How so?” he asked, genuinely curious.
She didn’t answer him.
“S’what I thought. Look…Slayer. I know things between us are…complicated. And you don’t like buying into the fact that I know you. Better than you know yourself, and certainly better than any of the people in there. I know that right now you feel more powerful than you ever did in your twenty-something’s before this. It’s there, the primal instinct, the hunt, the love of the night…the heat…the fire.”
“No…it isn’t, Spike, that’s the point of all this. I feel nothing. Worse than before. Worse than when I was brought back…worse than when I let you--”
His expression shifted to one of hurt. “I made you feel.”
Something in her eyes changed, but she didn’t deny it.
“I’ll make you feel again,” he told her, his voice husky and low. He sidled up to her, putting a hand on her hip, pulling her slowly closer to him. “I can bring life back to you, put color in your cheeks. I know I can…I will…” he whispered. “The hurt is a side-effect of your soul…and if you don’t have one…you won’t care…you’ll finally be free of all that emotional mumbo-jumbo that holds you back from being the balls-out firecracker that I know you long to be.” His lips touched her ear, just a whisper of a caress. “It’s in you…it’s what you’re made of…it’s your root. The very fiber of your being is to be a fighter…full of fire and passion.”
Buffy closed her eyes against his words, his touch.
“You know this. It’s instinct…imagine what we could be…together…careless to the bothers of the world, only ignited by the sparks between us…”
His hand snaked around her neck, tilted her head back, running a finger down her neck and a shiver down her spine.
“Fighting side by side…a team fueled by nothing but crazed, gnawing fire. No more worries about what your friends…your family…that bleedin’ Council…finally…just the freedom to be you…nothing but you.” His lips trailed down her neck now, teasing the mark left by Angel, practically bruising it, and he punctuated each word with a fierce nip. “Completely…utterly….totally…primal.”
His lips moved up to hers and captured them fiercely. She responded to him after a moment, gasping for breath before pulling away.
“I can’t!” she muttered. “I can’t, Spike.”
He growled, frustrated. “You can, luv…it’s all there. You’re the Slayer…you’re more now than you were before…it happens. I’m more now, without my soul, than I ever waswith the soddin’ thing,” he said, a note of pleading entering his tone. “I’m more alive, dead, than I was as William. And you’re more alive this way…I know it doesn’t feel like it now…but you haven’t had a chance to unleash yet, to explore and just bloody be!”
“But…no, Spike…it doesn’t work like that. My feelings are assets to me…as much as they’re hindrances. It just works that way, I don’t know why. Without them…I’m only half of what I was,” she told him, still breathing heavily from their embrace.
He moved closer to her, took her face in his hands and searched her eyes. “We’ve got something together, Slayer. You know it, I know it. When you get your soul back…what then? I return to being a disgusting thing in your eyes? Because you’ll still be beautiful in mine.”
She looked at the ground, unsure what to say to him.
“That’s how it’ll be, won’t it?” he asked her. “You’ll get your soul back…and I’m gone. You’ll ignore the energy between us, the urge to give in and just have at each other…the longing we both have, the desire. It’ll be nothing to you again.”
“And what now?” she asked, green eyes seeking his blue ones. “Without a soul I might love you? I don’t feel anything, Spike. Nothing. Completely devoid of emotion.” She paused, took a gulp of fresh air. “With or without a soul…I don’t love you,” she told him, completely sincere, and if possible in her condition, almost sorrowful.
He took a step back, staring at her. “If I had a soul--”
“No, Spike,” she cut him off. “Not you. Me.” She thumped a hand to her chest. “Without my soul…or with. I don’t love you.”
“You do…I know you could…”
Inside she heard the clock chime midnight and looked up at him, panicked. “It’s midnight.” Without a glance back, she moved to the shop door and disappeared inside, leaving him on the street, shattered.
When she walked back inside all eyes were on her. She held up a hand at Xander’s open mouth and he shut it again, seeing the pain in her eyes. Instead he offered her a small smile, knowing that the time to discuss Spike would come.
Angelus, however, was not as sympathetic. “You’re pathetic, Buff, you know that?” he snarled as she breezed past him to take her spot in the circle.
As the words left his mouth she brought up her fist and cracked it across his face. Continuing to move past him and turned once she reached her place, facing the group. “Can we just do this?”
Wesley nodded curtly, unimpressed by the displays between the vampire and Slayer. “We can begin now,” he announced, and nodded to Fred, who brought Connor forward and placed him in the middle of the circle.
Once the child was settled, Wesley began to speak, his tongue remembered the Latin he’d been educated with so many years ago.
Reina, Ductor te aviusum Deerare, invesperascit Via custodiae
Willow followed him, in English.
“Reina, Guide to the Lost We have wandered from the path It grows dark, the road is blocked.”
Ego hic.
“We are here.”
Addere claustrum.
“We bring the key.”
Recursum.
“Return to us.”
Humanum.
“Our being.”
Substantiae.
“Our essence.”
Animusim.
“Our breath.”
Spiritus.
“Our spirit.”
A low rumbling began, followed by a gentle breeze that quickly picked up speed. From within Connor a glow began to emit, brighter and brighter blue until the baby gave a gurgle and the light burst from him, rising up, free-floating between Angel and Buffy. The vampire and the Slayer stared at the ball of light, mesmerized.
Willow began to call louder as Wesley moved to sprinkle a mixture of herbs around the circle. “Reina, Goddess of the Lost, we call upon you to return the souls of these two warriors! Bind their spirits, lift their hearts, release their pain!”
The wind picked up as her voice grew louder, now spinning around the circle, faster and faster. Those outside the circle nervously began to creep closer to each other, watching, fascinated, as the blue glow became brighter, stronger.
Wesley finished sprinkling the herbs and returned to Willow’s side. “Adesdum!” he shouted above the now-roaring wind. “Adesdum!”
The wind began to churn, books and papers flying around the shop, bottles falling off the shelves and crashing to the floor.
“ADESDUM!” Wesley roared.
Suddenly the ravaging of the shop stopped. The power was sucked inside the sphere, and Buffy, Connor and Angelus were lifted off the ground, as all calmed around them. A noiseless wind-tunnel formed, filled with blue-light, trapping them inside.
“What’s happening?” Fred whispered, clutching Gunn’s arm.
He shook his head silently.
“Is this right?” Willow murmured nervously to Wesley, as she watched Buffy’s eyes close and her face contort.
“I—I don’t know,” he admitted.
“Hey…hey!” Cordelia shouted. “They’re hurting! Look at them! What’s going on?!”
“Oh God…Connor!” Fred cried, moving as close to the circle as she dared.
“Buffy!” Dawn shrieked, eyes filling with tears.
The wind tunnel picked up speed, throwing the three bodies together. Angelus’ grip found Connor and he clasped the baby’s hand in his, his game face sliding on despite the severe conditions.
“Connor!” Cordelia shrieked. “That…that’s what I saw in my vision!”
As if she heard the seer, Buffy’s eyes wrenched open and slowly her hand snaked out and caught Connor. With all her might she pulled him to her chest, wrenching him from the grip of his father and protecting him as best she could against the onslaught.
“Wesley! Stop this!” Xander ordered. “Make it stop!”
“This can’t be right,” Anya muttered. “This isn’t right.”
Wesley began frantically thumbing through the papers in his hands. “It says…we followed it.”
“Stop it!” Willow shrieked. “Conquiescere!” she tried. “Resistere! Strigare! Just…stop!”
“I hereby end the spell,” Tara tried. “This ends the spell…so mote it be.”
“Nothing’s working,” Cordelia snapped angrily. “Connor…god, little Connor…”
Suddenly the door flung open and a body came bolting through it, stopping just short of the three steps into the sunken level of the shop.
Xander was the first to see the newcomer. “Giles?”
“What—what are you--?” Giles asked, wide-eyed at what was taking place before him.
“Giles!” Dawn shouted. “Help them! Make it stop! Something’s wrong…we don’t know—hey!” she cried as Giles eyes hardened and he grabbed her by the shoulders, yanking her towards the circle. “What are you doing?!” she shrieked, protesting, dragging her feet.
Giles ignored her and pushed the reluctant girl into the circle, shouting, “Addo Claustrum! Ecquis conticiscere!”
Dawn’s body was sucked into the wind-tunnel and, as it was, the motion began to die. The light grew brighter as their bodies were moved to the center, so that all four beings were huddled together. In the circle the foursome were still, eyes closed, bodies slack, save for Buffy’s grip on the silent child. A new light formed now, this time from inside Dawn, a beautiful emerald green, and burst from her as the blue light had come from Connor. It melded with the blue, forming an exquisite turquoise, and began to swirl around Buffy and Angel until suddenly there was a rush of force that caused both of their eyes to fly open.
They each took gasping, almost painful, breaths and their eyes closed again as they were slowly dropped to the floor. All three fell to their knees, panting, and almost immediately Angelus pitched forward onto the ground, his arms unable to support himself. Cordelia rushed forward and grabbed Connor from Buffy’s grip as the Slayer, too, fell to the ground. Glaring at the seer, Willow moved to Dawn and held her, preventing her from joining her sister and Angel in a heap on the floor.
The entire room was silent, save the heavy breathing of the spell participants.
Finally, Willow, still clutching Dawn, turned to Giles and broke the silence. “Hi, Giles,” she offered meekly.
The Watcher, out of breath, managed a small, relieved smile.
