“I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.” Willow repeated the mantra to herself over and over as she set up the herbs needed, cleared yet more space for the several protective circles needed, and prayed that this wasn’t some horrible mistake on a wide variety of levels. 

“Give Buffy the strength of all the slayers before her; allow Angelus to be put into her body thus giving Angel a solid and singular hold on his own body. How hard can it be?” She was muttering again but didn’t notice. The ritual was to take place this night and she had only a few hours to set everything up. 

“Of course with Angel’s soul in sole control of his body all the perfect moments of perfect happiness won’t force him into the aether; love this mystical stuff, don’t you Willow.” The witch continued as she mentally measured the area for the circles and decided that yes, the chair definitely needed to go. 

“So,” she continued, grunting as she pushed her favorite chair out of the living room and as far into the kitchen as the door allowed, “Vampire with a bound soul and no demon. And he thought he was unique before.” One last push and the chair was firmly wedged in the doorframe. Maybe Buffy or faith could move it back. 

“Wish I knew how that worked, but Giles agrees that it should. And Buffy has this weird sense, too, about it and why am I talking to myself? Oh, right,” Willow answered as she continued to look around the room, once more measuring the open space. Satisfied, she began to set out the candles. “Because they couldn’t give me a day or two, could they? Oh, no, needed to do it now, right away, and okay, understanding the need for speed, but can’t a witch catch a break?” 

“Willow, are you alright?” Dawn’s voice penetrated her monologue and Willow jerked up, candle in hand. 

“Oh! Ha, Dawnie didn't see you there. Ah, yeah, just fine, you know, setting up for the spell and all.” Turning back to her task she added, “In a rushed nature, of course.” 

Dawn smiled thinly, but didn’t comment. She had her own problems with this spell. “Need any help?” 

“Yeah, go through those bags? The ingredients list is on the table; make sure there’s enough of everything. With the Magick Shop gone I had to go to Hammonton to get most of the herbs; and their selection is so limited.”

As Dawn checked the long list against the bags of herbs and whatnot, she asked, “Isn’t Hammonton like twenty miles away?” 

“Yeah, but they were the closest town with a decent size shop that actually sold what I needed. And it wasn’t that a fun drive, let me tell you, three potentials all wanting to drive just to get out of the house. And I had to take them all with me, too. I have such a headache.” 

Which was nothing compared to what she was going to have. She didn’t tell Buffy and hoped to whatever god or goddess was listening that Giles hadn’t figured it out, but this spell, the binding of the slayer energy, was dangerous. 

As in more so than raising Buffy had been. 

The last time they had tapped into the First Slayer’s power she had haunted their dreams and tried to kill them all for daring such a feat. This time they were effectively stripping her of her power and all the other slayers that came after her up to Buffy and binding it to Buffy. For the length of her life which would become somewhat…increased; another part that neither Giles nor Buffy knew about. 

She would, in effect, become the Ultimate First Slayer. Oh, no, Willow was in no way terrified of this spell. 

Well what was she supposed to say? Oh, hey guys, you know that spell, well I think it’s permanent, but don’t hold me to it because no one’s ever thought to even think about stripping a slayer’s powers so I’m not entirely sure it’s going to work. And uh, Buffy…? How do you like your life, because you might now have quite a few more years on this earth. Oh, and did I mention the fact that I’m not entirely sure this is going to work? 

Willow tried to tell Buffy the side effects, but the slayer wanted no parts of it. She just kept saying that she knew...everything. It was all right because she knew and wasn’t afraid and don’t tell Giles, Willow, it’ll be okay, I promise. 

Sure, this would leave the Slayer line unaffected since it now went through Faith, but that didn’t mean much in the end. Moreover, Willow had never channeled this kind of power before, not even when she had seriously lost it a few months ago had she commanded the kind of power a thousand, thousand slayers possessed. 

No wonder no one had yet attempted this, the number of slayers multiplied by their strength and prowess, combined in one place at one time in one person…no wonder there was one ever one per generation. And no wonder the balance had gone askew when Buffy hadn’t really died and first Kendra then Faith was called. 

The universe just wasn’t made to control this kind of power. 

Running the words to the spell through her mind once more, Willow finished her preparations – this house had seen a lot but never anything of this magnitude – and went to check on Dawn. Seeing that the girl had everything under control and all the herbs and ingredients were set, she sat down in the closest chair for a moment. 

“Dawn, can you make dinner? I need to rest before this spell and since it’s supposed to be at midnight I have a few hours. If I’m not up by 10 come and wake me?” 

Dawn nodded, “Why are all spells supposed to be preformed at midnight?” 

“The end of the old day and the beginning of the new one; birth, death, and rebirth,” Willow said in her best Wicca voice before smiling. “That and it always sounds good.”

Dawn laughed and went into the kitchen to see what they had to eat. Willow watched her for a moment and said softly, “You’ll be fine, Dawnie, you’ll see. They’ll always take care of you.” 

With that she walked to her room, too exhausted to care that she fell into bed still fully clothed. 

“Willow, sweetie, wake up.” 

“Tara? Baby, is it really you?” Willow opened her eyes and looked at the face of her dead lover, eyes brimming with tears. 

“Yeah, it’s me. I need to talk with you about this spell. What are you planning, Willow? You know you can’t control these magicks anymore.” Stroking her hand in a feather light touch across Willow’s cheek, ‘Tara’ shifted closer to her on the bed. 

“What? No, baby, I’m fine, really. Okay,” she admitted with a sheepish smile, “I kind of lost it when I lost you, but I’m better now, really I am and you’re dead, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, I am, but they’re allowing me a few moments with you, now. This is so dangerous, Willow, I don’t want you doing it. You’re so important to the world, it can’t lose you.” 

“No, really, Tara, it’ll be fine. Just a little binding, a little taping, it’ll be fine. Really.” 

‘Tara’ leaned forward, brushing her lips over Willow’s, just barely touching her. She was ice cold but Willow, having never really touched a ghost before, didn’t notice. “I miss you, you know that? I miss you, baby, I wish, just this once, that you had brought me back. Why didn’t you?” 

Willow began to cry. She wanted to cling to her lost lover but ‘Tara’ moved just out of reach. “I tried Tara, oh, God, I tried! But I couldn’t, they wouldn’t let me!”

“They wouldn’t let you because you’re unstable, baby, you can’t control the power that runs through you.” The voice was soft, understanding, but the words cut deeply as they were meant to. “That’s why you shouldn’t do this spell.”

“I can do it, Tara,” Willow said, tears still pooling in her eyes, wanting her lover to understand, “I know I can. And when I do then-” 

“LEAVE!”  

The voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once, a strong masculine voice that held power and hope and something else that intangible thing that made people want to listen to it.

“You are not welcome here, and you know it!” 

He appeared suddenly, blue eyes glowing an unnatural glow and power radiating from his fingertips. ‘Tara’ turned from the bed and smirked at the newcomer, rising gracefully she took a step to him and applauded. 

“Oh, that was good, very effective entrance. Too bad you can’t stay.” And with that she disappeared, vanishing into nothing as if she…It…had never been there. 

“Tara!” Willow cried out, turning to the man at the foot of her bed. A part of her knew what had happened, that the First Evil had paid her a visit, but another part wanted only to see Tara once more. “Who are you? What did you do with her?” She screeched at him, feeling the magicks flow through her, uncontrollable, wild, untamed. 

“Doyle, ma’am, my name is Doyle. I’m here to help you I swear, lass.” He rushed out, seeing the power, feeling it as it enveloped the room; and this girl was asleep? Doyle didn’t want to even know what kind of power she had when awake. “That wasn’t your beloved, lass, It was the First, tryin’ to trick you.” 

Just as suddenly as the power came, it went as Willow stared slack jawed at the newcomer. She knew it wasn’t really Tara, someplace deep within her she knew, but she so wanted just one more minutes with her, just one more. “I know, but, why?” 

“I think you know the answer to that one, Willow.”

Nodding she looked sharply at him. “And how do I know that you aren’t the First as well?” 

Doyle laughed, a rich full-bodied sound that had Willow smiling in response before she realized she was smiling. “Oh, that’s a good one. No, no; no working with the evil. I’m what you might call a messenger, used to work for Angel and Cordelia.” 

“And now…?”

“Ah, now I’m kind of freelance. But I came here only to stop the First from knowing your plans, I have to get back to LA before yet more goes wrong.” 

“How bad is it there?” 

Grimacing, Doyle shook his head. “Best not to know, don’t want any distractions. Let’s just say that it’s a good thing you’re doing this spell tonight.” He walked over to her, resting a cool hand on her forehead. “Now sleep, lass, rest until it’s time. They need you and you’ll be doing them no good like this.” 

Willow nodded, already feeling her eyes closing, a peaceful sleep settling over her. “And Tara? Is she really okay?” 

“Yes, lass, she’s fine. A strong girl that one, she’s doing good work, helping others.” 

Smiling, Willow turned over and spelt a deep untroubled sleep that reminded her of the times she was held in her lover’s arms.
~~~~~~~~~~
“I call on the First, she who is the beginning. I call on she that is the end and all that is in the middle. I call on the slayers, those who fight the darkness, those who stand between the light and the dark. I call on you; I call on all of you to act now, to finish your calling, to once more stand that line. I call on you to bind with Buffy Summers; I call on you to be Buffy Summers, she who is the light and the dark!” 

Willow felt the magick flow through her, the good and the evil, the hope and the despair and everything that she never knew Buffy felt each and every time the slayer went into the night and stopped the darkness from gaining a foothold in this world. 

“I call on the First to guide and to protect! I call on the First to counsel and to justify! I call on the First to allow this to happen! I call on the First to bind, to grow, to see and to hear!” 

Buffy stood in the middle of the protected circle, naked. Her body was painted with mud, with blues and golds and reds. Her arms hung limply at her sides but her head was thrown back in supplication, hair trailing to her knees looking like an ancient human sacrifice. 

“I call on the First Slayer, I call on the First Slayer, I call on the First Slayer, I CALL ON THE FIRST SLAYER!” 

At Willow’s final words, Buffy screamed, shattering the newly repaired windows, causing the dozens of candles to extinguish, and the occupants of the room to hold their hands over their ears. 

She screamed and screamed, the sound echoing around the world and back again. 

In Its cave the First evil looked up, pausing in Its explanation to Drusilla, and listened to the noise. There was something It should know, wasn’t there? But what? What was the witch doing? It wished It had had more time, curse that interfering messenger! 

Spike looked up, thinking that the end was near with that sound, only to encounter Drusilla, his Dru, standing in front of him, that wonderful little smile on her face. He forgot everything but that, but her. 

In LA Cordelia screamed as a vision hit her, her body convulsing in spasm after spasm as images of light and feelings of magick flowed through her. 

Connor shot off his bed, looking around for the source of the scream and smiled when he realized, finally, what that man, Doyle, had been telling him. 

Angelus stopped his feeding, dropping the whimpering girl he had randomly chosen onto the filthy alley floor, as he recognized the sound of the scream. “What are you up to, my love?” 

Angel opened his eyes and looked around, wondering where he was and what was happening. Then he, too, recognized the source of the sound and said aloud though no one listened, “What are you up to, beloved?” 

The Beast halted in his tracks, looking at the night sky. Then dismissed the noise and continued on his errand. Angelus truly was a worthy ally and they were making a beautiful arrangement together. 

Lilah paused in her conversation with Gavin at Wolfram & Hart, listening to the noise before asking, “Find out what that was, Gavin, I want to know the second you do.” On the other end Gavin nodded, wanting to drop the phone and hold his hands over his ears the scream was that loud, crawling over his nerves like dozens of ants.

On and on and on and on it went, past the point of breath, her very soul being infused with power and strength and control and there it was, all of it, every single slayer through all time agreed and lent, gave and became, binding her Slayer essence with Buffy. There was still only her inside the body but there was so much more than her. 

Just as Angelus had been remade in the image of the now deceased Turok-Han, so, too, was Buffy being remade. 

Finally the screaming stopped and Buffy dropped to the floor, unconscious. 

Willow stopped her incantation and also slumped to the ground, exhausted. But alive, hey, she was alive, how about that, and then blackness claimed her. 

Faith looked to Giles and at his nod gathered Buffy into her arms and carried the slayer to the bathroom. The bath there was already prepared, a ritual cleansing with scented oils and protective candles, a ritual spell as well to complete the binding. Faith, as the current slayer, as the slayer through whom the line now passed, was the only one allowed there.

Shutting the door, Faith took a moment to breathe a sigh; relief, fear, hope, despair, it was all of this and more. At least it worked, at least it worked. Now onto the hard part.

Angelus. 

Unfortunately for Faith, she had no idea just how difficult bringing his essence into Buffy was going to be… 

Giles gathered Willow to him, watching as Anya completed this part of the ritual; blew out the candles that had suddenly relit when Buffy’s scream had stopped, sprinkled rosemary and a mixture of a dozen other herbs over each one before moving onto the next. 

“You did well, Willow, I’m proud of you.” He whispered to the unconscious witch, a fatherly sense of pride moving through him. Followed closely by a fear so profound he shuddered as it crawled over him. What had they done? More importantly, what effects was it going to have on all of them?

Dawn followed Anya and broke each candle, making sure that the power that the wax pillars helped to harness could never do so again. 

Buffy floated in a state of semi-consciousness, Angel was there, as was Angelus. Hovering in the background, not saying anything and she knew that they couldn’t hear her, either. Faith was there, though Buffy knew the other slayer was actually cleansing her body. 

‘You did it, B, but do you know the consequences?’ 

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘You have all the power of all the past slayers inside of you. Forever. Are you ready?’ 

‘Yes, I know, I knew going into it this would be permanent. You knew this, too, didn’t you?’ 

‘Are you ready, Buffy, are you ready?’ 

Buffy awoke with a start to find Faith tucking her into her own bed, candles again lighting the room, the final stage of the spell.

“Faith,” she murmured, drowsily, “I’m ready, I’m ready.” 

Confused, Faith only looked at her, smoothing a strand of damp hair off her face. “Are you, B? I wonder.” 

Sitting in the chair she had placed in the room earlier, Faith prepared to complete the ritual, chanting the words through the night until the sunrise. Thank God for technology and the watch. At least she knew exactly when that was. 

In Buffy’s dream she turned over, snuggling into her lover’s chest, ‘Soon, my love, soon.’ 

‘Yes, my love, sooner than you expect.’ 

And Buffy couldn’t have said if it was the demon or the soul who responded but she didn’t care.

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