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.”
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