Title: Crawling in the Dark

This story continues after: Murphy's Law

Rated: PG-13

Summary: Second Part of the Weathered Series.  There’s a wolf stalking the SG, but who is it?  And what does it want?

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  Joss, UPN, and WB own everything.  Please don’t sue me.

Special Thanks: Once again, to my lovely and talented Beta readers, Haley, Jennifer, and Karen.  They really help me out a lot and deserve a big thank you from everyone.

AN: Well, I’ve done the action/adventure with Weathered, and a light hearted comedy with Murphy’s Law, but now things are about to get a little bit darker and with more angst, at least in my opinion. Like the other two, I didn’t quite mean to do that, but that is how it happened.  Still, I hope you enjoy.

---

Crawling in the Dark

 

 

Part 1: Signs

 

She walked through the deserted street, the cool morning air blowing up the thin skirt she had on as she pushed a stray blond hair out of her face.  The town was so still, so unnaturally still. It was starting to give her the creeps, even though the bright morning sun shone down on her.  The warm glow was sure to chase all the nasties away.  But something dark was following her, tracking her, even if she couldn’t find it.

 

On the steps in front of the Magic Box sat a little girl with hair that looked as if it couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be a light brown or a dark blond.  The long curly mat that was her hair was pulled into two pig tails that hung low behind her ears and rested on her little shoulders. She didn’t look as if she were over four-years-old, and was just quietly bouncing a ball up and down. 

 

Buffy came and sat beside the child who barely even noticed her presence.

 

“Hi,” the slayer said watching the ball come up again and land in the girl’s hands. “What’chya doing?”

 

“Waiting for my daddy,” she told her still focusing in on her ball.  “He had to go out for awhile and told me to wait here.”

 

“What about your Mommy?  Where’s she?”

 

The little girl caught the ball in her hand and looked over at the slayer.  Her little face was so sad, it almost made Buffy want to cry for her.

 

“She didn’t listen,” the child said sadly.  “I told her, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

 

“Told her what?”

 

“To beware the wolf,” she said as she continued to bounce the ball.  “But she didn’t listen.”

 

Buffy felt her eyes grow wide.  It couldn’t be.

 

“Dylan?” she asked softly.

 

The girl looked up at her again and she recognized those bright, blue eyes.  Before she could react to what she was looking at, the child screamed, “Look out!”

 

Buffy turned just in time to see a large mouth of teeth launching at her.

 

The blonde sat up straight in her bed, a thin layer of sweat covering her body with her heart pounding in her chest.  What was that?

 

From the crib that they had set up under the windows that she used to sneak in and out, Dylan was standing up, holding onto the railing, bawling.  Her little face was red and sticky from tears as she waited for her mother to come comfort her and make everything alright again.  Buffy lifted the child into her arms; her little yellow fleece body pajamas warm in her embrace as she swayed the toddler back in forth.

 

“It’s okay,” she told her rocking the child.  “It was just a dream, nothing else.”

 

To be honest, she didn’t know who she was trying to calm down more, her daughter or herself.

 

Ever since Thanksgiving, the dreams had become worse and worse.  They were always the same; she would be somewhere in town, see the same little girl but at different ages, and she would give her the same warning, ‘beware the wolf.’ 

 

At first, Buffy didn’t know who the child was, but she did now.  The still whimpering baby in her arms was trying to tell her something, but wasn’t quite sure what.  The fact that she said that she didn’t listen to her tonight really put the slayer on edge. 

 

Did that mean that it was too late already?  She just wished she knew.

 

**********

 

The house was dark. They were all asleep and safe in their beds, but he still kept his post under the old tree out front.  He would stay there until the first rays of light would start to brighten the sky and chase him and the shadows away, but he would stay right there until then.

 

How many nights had he stayed under that tree, watching that window in hopes of catching a glimpse of her without Solider Boy?  He had lost count from before.

 

He did remember the last night plainly, the night that he had shown her that her white knight had a few kinks in his armor.  The night he had a moment to compare what her real nude body looked like as compared to the one he fantasized about – they were strikingly similar.  The night before both their lives were turned completely upside down and inside out. 

 

It struck him how differently their lives could have been had he not kept watch that night had he not dragged her out of her dream world and into the harsh reality that her commando boyfriend lived in.  Would he be standing there, watching the room where both she and their daughter slept?  Spike snorted.  Probably bloody well not.

 

Unlike when he watched out of obsession, he had to watch now to keep his own sanity in check.  They had been together for so long, just the three of them, and he knew they were both safe because he was always nearby in case something should happen. 

 

The only time he had left, he had because he felt it was for the best.  He worried constantly for the three months he was in Africa.  Even during those deadly, gruesome trials, it was the thought of getting back to them that had kept him from giving up.  When he had to recover and that blasted guilt was driving him insane, the thought of them being unprotected without him around was what finally forced him to stop feeling sorry for himself and haul his ass back to Madrid. He had nearly lost them that night; he was sure as hell not going to let it happen again.  If that meant standing out there, under that window, and watching for the rest of his unnatural life, then so be it.

 

A faint sound floated from the house causing Spike to straighten up a little.  He would know that sound anywhere.  It was Dylan and she was crying, again.

 

In a move he had perfected over the months, he was able to climb the tree and position himself to where Buffy couldn’t see him before the slayer even had a chance to turn on the lights.  Dylan was standing there in her crib, screaming like a banshee until her mother came and lifted her into the safety of her arms.  The slayer herself didn’t look much better than the child.  She looked worn and tired and scared, but of what he didn’t know.  He couldn’t know because he wasn’t there with them, like he should be.

 

Spike stayed there, trying to will any comfort to them, until Rupert arrived shortly before the sun would have risen.  The vampire felt a pang of jealousy towards the Watcher because he was the one the slayer still turned too, but he also felt better because he was there and perhaps able to help her.  Reluctantly, but because he didn’t want to spontaneously combust, he slipped out of the yard and headed home.

 

He hadn’t gotten very far when a familiar sensation started to prick at his mind.  Stopping in his tracks, he glanced over his shoulder and directly at the shadow he knew she was hiding in.

 

“Hello, Dru,” he said rather evenly, keeping his back to the vampiress.

 

The raven hair beauty emerged from her hiding spot, her black dress flowing around her white body as her insane grin never wavered on her lips.  When she looked like this with her lily skin glowing in the moonlight and that childlike innocence to her there would hardly a man alive that would turn down whatever it was this creature was offering.  A hundred and twenty-two years ago, he hadn’t, but he would tonight if she offered.  Somehow, he doubted she would.

 

“Miss Edith told me a man stole my Spike’s body, but I did not believe her.  Had I, then maybe I wouldn’t have punished her so badly.”

 

The bleach blond turned to face her fully.  So, she knew about the soul.  Still doesn’t explain why she’s here.

 

“What do you want, Dru?”

 

She took a step to him, seemingly amazed by him.  “You sound so much like him, but the bugs ate my Spike away and left you in his place.”

 

She reached up to touch his face, but he took her hands away before her skin made contact with his.  “Dru.”

 

His sire frowned at his dismissal of her fascination.  “You see!  He would never hurt his Mummy like you.”

 

Spike sighed at her.  “You’re right, he wouldn’t have.  But you’re talkin’ to me now, pet.  What do you want?”

 

She jerked away from him, then turned her attention upwards to the starless night.  “Did he tell you?  The stars, they sing to me, tell me stories.  They told me one about an angel the other day.”

 

Angel?!

 

“Dru, did you see Dylan?”

 

“I saw death,” she laughed playfully, clapping her hands together.  “Death and darkness.  But they did not play well together.  Death kept cheating darkness.”

 

“Drusilla,” he practically hissed.

 

She blinked blankly at him, then held her hands up as she closed her eyes.  “Shhhh.  Don’t you hear it?  Don’t you hear the wolf cry?”

 

He grabbed her by the shoulders, barely keeping the demon down, though he knew she wouldn’t mind.  God, how did she ever not infuriate him with her cryptic messages before?  “Drusilla, what is going on?”

 

“The fates are coming to play. They say it’s time to pay,” she told him, almost seriously. She then pouted, “But they don’t want me to play with them.  They say that my part is done.  Tell them I can play.”

 

Spike dropped his shoulders and turned away from her gaze.  He wasn’t as good at translating what she was telling him like he used to be, but he knew what she was telling him was bad.

 

“Better listen to what they have to say,” Spike sighed after a moment.

 

She gave him a large pair of puppy dog eyes that he was sure he would be seeing more when Dylan got older, then said, “I wish you were still him.  We created such beautiful darkness.”

 

“But I’m not, love,” he told her.  She gave him one last sigh, then turned to walk way.  Before she got too far, he called to her, “Dru.”  She paused and looked back at him.  “Don’t ever come back.”

 

“The slayer shouldn’t worry.  I’m gone from everything now,” she told him before disappearing into the shadows.

 

**********

 

Steven sat on the balcony, staring out over the city below him.  In his world, there was no place like this, only plenty of room for a boy to run and feel free.  Here, everything was loud, crowded, and mostly, made him feel like he was trapped in a prison he could not escape from.  There were rules here, a society that he did not understand nor wanted to.  He missed his home and wished desperately that he was there.

 

After Justine had murdered his father, the boy had discovered some nasty truths that had been kept from him his whole life.  Everything the teen had ever been taught was called into question, including his sense of right and wrong and who he really was.  He knew he had been born of two vampires, but, after seeing Angel - his real father - fight all these months, Steven could not say without a doubt that he thought that all vampires or demons were evil and that men were all good.  Both his fathers had proven the opposite could be true.

 

“Hey,” a woman said walking outside to join him.  “I thought I might find you here.”

 

Cordy smiled warmly at the boy as she pulled her jacket a little tighter around her body.  The late December nights were bitterly cold for LA, but he didn’t seem to notice that much.

 

He didn’t know why, but he liked Cordelia.  Maybe it was the fact that she was always nice to him and treated him like a normal person instead of ‘Angel’s son’ like so many others seemed to do.  She understood what it meant to be different, thanks to the demon that was now inside of her, and he was grateful to have someone who had stood on both sides of the fence.

 

“Did Angel send you to check on me?” he asked, never taking his eyes off the city.

 

She drew in a deep breath before she came over and leaned on the balcony that he was sitting on.  “No.  As far as he knows, I’m still manning the phones downstairs and you’re still in your room.  Guess it proves that he doesn’t know everything like he thinks he does.”

 

Steven bit the inside of his mouth to kill a smile that threatened to come.  Angel was the type of person who thought he knew what was best for everyone, not that the boy was any different.  It did, however, provide for some very interesting ‘discussions’ that usually involved yelling and the breaking of objects.

 

“You know,” she continued after a moment of silence, “when you were a baby, I used to bring you out here whenever I couldn’t get you to calm down and Angel wasn’t around to vamp out for you.  You loved it out here.   Guess you still do.”

 

“I can think here,” he explained simply.

 

“About what?”

 

The boy looked over at the slightly older woman who had an eyebrow raised.  “Stuff,” he said.

 

She couldn’t hold back a snort.  “You’re more like your father then you-ugh.”

 

Steven jerked his head over to see what the matter was and found the woman holding her head as the vision came.  He had only seen her do this a few times since coming to stay with Angel, but it still freaked him out.

 

“Cordy?” the boy said softly.  “Cordelia?  Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah,” she told him carefully, trying to pay attention to what she was seeing.  The seer then straighten up, turned to the boy, and said plainly, “Connor, we need to go talk to your father.”

 

The boy knew that tone; it was the same one that his father had always used when trouble was on the way.  Reflexively, he drew in his bottom lip to bite down on it, a bad habit that he had picked up as a child.

 

“Something’s coming, isn’t it?” he said.

 

“No,” she said sadly shaking her head.  “It’s already here.”

 

**********

 

Joyce poured the hot liquid into the cup and handed it over to the middle-aged man that sat at the counter with her weary looking daughter.  The sun would be up soon, and none of them had planned on starting the day this early.  But a slayer dream and a screaming baby had proven otherwise for them.

 

Dawn was the only one who had been able to sleep through Dylan’s screaming fit.  Joyce wasn’t sure how the teen had been able to do it. After all, her room was further down the hall than the teen’s, but Dawn had always been a sound sleeper.  Her mother-in-law used to say that the girl could sleep through a tornado or a hurricane had either one of them ever struck California.

 

Rupert adjusted his glasses before taking the cup. He took a long sip from it, then turned back to her child.  “How long have the dreams been going on?”

 

Buffy shrugged as she ran her finger along the rim of the coffee cup.  The poor girl’s eyes were dark from lack of sleep, and Joyce couldn’t help but wonder how long she could keep up taking care of Dylan, going to school, slaying, and getting absolutely no rest.  She would have to remember to speak to Spike about maybe helping out a little more.

 

“Ever since about May,” she told the coffee cup.  “They’ve become more regular since Thanksgiving.”

 

The Watcher sighed deeply.  Seven months and she was just now telling them about it?

 

“There’s more,” she went on quietly.  “I-I think that…”  Her voice died in her throat before she finished.

 

“What, Honey?” Joyce pressed softly as only she could do.

 

“I think that I’m…sharing the dreams.”  She added quickly.  “With Dylan.”

 

“Are you sure?” Rupert asked quickly.

 

“It’s her in my dreams, Giles.  It took me awhile to figure it out, but I know it is.  She’s trying to warn me about something, but I don’t know what she’s talking about.  And then she’s always crying when I wake up.” She snorted at the last thought.  “Actually, it’s more like bawling her little eyes out.  You can ask Mom, she heard her this morning.”

 

Joyce paused for a moment.  She had heard Dylan this morning, and there had been more and more nights where the child had woken her up screaming.  The older blonde woman had never been able to figure out why a child who always seemed so content and happy would cry like that at night. But, if she were sharing Buffy’s dreams, then it did explain it.

 

“She has been rather upset at night lately,” her mother offered, not going as far as to agree with her daughter, but not ruling it out either.

 

Giles looked from one woman to another before pulling his glasses off and beginning to clean them.  “I suppose if Dylan really is this ‘dark angel’ like that Becket fellow thought she was, then it could be possible.  The problem is she is still only speaking in short sentences and cannot tell us out right if it is true or not.  Maybe if she were older-“

 

“But she’s not,” Buffy told him.  “So we’ll just have to go with my instinct here.”

 

“Which is?” Spike asked.

 

All three of them turned and found the bleach blond leaning in the open back doorway.  His arms were crossed as he stared at Buffy, and Joyce noticed how her daughter seemed to relax slightly with him being there.

 

“What are you doing here?” the tiny blonde asked.

 

“Ran into Dru a minute ago,” he told her.  “Said something bad was goin’ on, but I guess you already know that.”

 

“Great, Drusilla, just what we don’t need,” Buffy sighed deeply, turning her attention back to the coffee cup.

 

“Don’t think we’ll be worrin’ about her, love.  Whatever it is, it’s pretty much told her to stay out of it.  She was headin’ out of town when she left me. So, what’s your slayer instinct sayin’ we should do here?”

 

“Major research party for anything that might be going down in the next couple of days with a good, old-fashion shake down at Willy’s to see who might be causing trouble in Sunnyd.  You and me can check it out tonight after sunset.”

 

Giles nodded his head in agreement and was mentally preparing himself for a long Saturday at ‘Scooby Central.’

 

**********

 

Tara sat in the large chair she had moved into the dorm room, her legs curled up to her body as she watched the young red head sleep in the bed.  It had been nearly a week since Thanksgiving and the young witch seemed to be handling the adjustment back to the real world rather well, or as well as could be expected.  She didn’t smile nearly as often as she had before, nor did she display as much confidence, but she was trying to get back to normal. 

 

Tara just didn’t know what to do.  It was Willow. There was no doubt about it, but she was different.  She was…darker.  Yeah, that was a good word for it.  Her moods were darker, her clothes were darker, even her eyes somehow seemed darker.  But that should be expected, she supposed.  After all, she did just get back from the Shadow World.

 

That was another mystery in itself.  The witch had never gone into detail of how she had returned from the place.  She just left the Scoobies to guess.  Giles had tired to pry into it, but Willow had quickly shut out the questions by leaving the room complaining she was tired and didn’t want to talk about it.  They had agreed that she just needed time, but she needed to speak to someone about it soon.  Tara didn’t care if it was with her or not, just someone.

 

Willow’s small body stirred in the large bed.  She was grunting lowly to herself when the nightmares came on yet again.  Tara wished there was something she could do to help her.  It was true that she could use magic to make her forget, to help her to become her old self again, but she wouldn’t do that.  Magic was never the way when it came to such problems; and, if one did use it in that manner, it was highly addictive.  The young witch had seen others fall into it like that, and there was nothing sadder than to see a magic junkie looking for the next fix.

 

“No, please,” Willow whimpered lowly into the pillow as she slept.  “Please, leave me alone.”

 

Tara stood from the large chair, the silk robe that Dawn had given her for a Christmas present last year falling around her body.  She bent down next to the restless sleeper, reached out to offer comfort, but kept her hand just barely away from her face.

 

“No, don’t,” Willow said as the shut eyes began to have slits of water glisten at their ends.

 

“Willow,” Tara said softly gently shaking her shoulder.

 

“No,” the woman muttered again, not waking from the contact.

 

“Willow,” she said again.

 

“No, no, no, no,” she repeated starting to jerk forcefully.  Tara sat up, unsure what she should do as Willow began to cry.  There was something building around the red head, but she didn’t know what.  “NO!!” she screamed, her body lifting upward from the bed.

 

The room seemed to explode from some kind of energy that lifted the blonde up off the bed and tossed her to the ground.  Pictures and books were knocked over, and the glass vase that held the Japanese Fighting fish shattered, spilling the water all over the desk.

 

Willow fell limply back onto the bed with a thud, then moaned as she slowly regained consciousness.  Tara lifted herself up off the ground and Willow began to look around the room as confused as she had been the night she wondered into Buffy’s yard.  This was not good.

 

“Tara?” she asked weakly.

 

The blonde scrambled across the soft bed, scooped the still shaking red head into her arms, and began to rock her tiny body back and forth.  “It’s okay,” she whispered holding her. 

 

But she knew it was anything but okay.  Somehow, Willow had tapped into something unconsciously that she wasn’t supposed to.  It may be just a residual effect from being stuck in the Shadow World; after all, no one knew anything about that place because no one has ever returned from it, but Tara wasn’t sure.  This was all just too…strange.

 

“It’s okay,” she said again, kissing the top of her head, trying to reassure herself of the same thing.

 

---

 

Part 2: Hello Again

 

Dawn yawned widely as she hit the lights and headed back towards her room in a groggy state.  She hated early morning bathroom calls, especially when that early morning happened to be on Saturday.  Saturday was supposed to be her sleep until noon, get up, have lunch, take a nap before going out and meeting her friends at the Bronze day, not get up at the crack of dawn day.  She silently cursed whoever had come up with the Big Gulp idea.

 

“Seven months, Slayer?” the teen heard a familiar British voice drift up the stairs.  “Why didn’t you tell me?  Why didn’t you tell any of us?!”

 

The brown-haired girl quietly moved down the stairs, careful to avoid the parts she knew would squeak.  She bent down low to peer through the railing and into the living room.  Standing there in front of the couch was her sister and the bleach blond blood-sucker, as Xander called him.  Spike had his back to the teen, but Dawn could tell he was upset at her dorky sister over something.  Buffy had her arms crossed as she gave him an annoyed look.

 

“And what was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, by the way, while we’re surprising everyone with news about my return, Spike being souled, Dylan, and Willow’s return, I just want to add that I might be having slayer dreams about a wolf.’  I thought we had enough to deal with at the moment, thank you very much.”

 

Slayer dreams?!  File that under things Dawn really didn’t want to hear.

 

He sighed at her sarcastic tone. “What, love?  Did you just think that if you ignored it long enough it’d go away?  You know as well as I do that’s not goin’ to happen.  Not if they really are slayer dreams.”

 

She watched her sister’s annoyance melt away to an almost pleading, childlike look.  The teen hadn’t seen her sister look that vulnerable since…well, since ever.  Even when she was depressed over their parents’ split-up, or when Angel was causing her so much pain, Buffy never allowed anyone to see her vulnerable.  She was supposed to be the rock for everyone else to stand on, and vulnerability showed weakness.  Yet, from her perch on the stairs, Dawn could easily see her sister letting whatever barriers she had up crumble in front of him.  The teen didn’t think anyone could ever get Buffy to do that.

 

“I know,” her sister sighed in response.  “I just thought that…I don’t know what I thought.  I mean, I haven’t had an official slayer dream since-well, Angel.”

 

Dawn heard Spike let out a deep breath.  Though she still couldn’t see his face, she knew his anger at her sister was dying as fast as her sister’s annoyance with him.  His shoulders relaxed before her glanced down at the ground, then looked back up at Buffy.

 

“It scares me, Spike,” she continued.  “It really scares me to think Dylan’s having slayer dreams with me.  I mean, they’re hard enough on me.  I can’t imagine how scary they must be for her.”

 

“Yeah, I know love,” he said as he reached over and pulled her into a hug.

 

Dawn’s eyes were wide. Oh man!  She knew it!  She knew there had to be more going on between them than the whole ‘we’re just friends’ thing they’d been pedaling.  The teen couldn’t hold back the very large smile that surfaced on her face, and was barely able to keep a very girlish, teenage squeal from escaping her mouth.

 

He was ever so slowly rocking the slayer as Buffy laid her head against his chest and said, “It’s just so-Dawn!!”

 

The teen jerked in surprise from being caught, which caused her to lose her footing.  Her body twisted as she fell down the stairs butt first and hit every one of them on the way down.  She landed with a loud thud on the foyer floor.  Her back side was throbbing while she laid there on the ground, looking straight up at the ceiling, and then two worried adult faces.

 

“Dawn,” Buffy called.

 

“You alright, Niblet?”

 

“Good heavens,” Giles said coming in through the dining room with Joyce.  He helped Spike lift the girl to her feet, then asked, “What happened?”

 

Buffy smirked at her sister before crossing her arms and saying, “Oh, Dawn was just demonstrating her catlike agility.”

 

Giles ignored the comment for the moment and kept his attention on the teen.  “Are you hurt?”

 

“Only my pride,” she answered, wincing in pain.  “And my butt.”

 

“Serves you right for spying,” Buffy said childishly.

 

“I wasn’t spying!  I was…listening without being noticed.”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes as the others adults gave light groans.  Some things would never change.

 

“Yes, well, if you’re sure you’re alright, Dawn, then I guess I best be on my way,” Giles said, giving the girl the once over before heading for the door.  “It’s nearly time to open, and there are several books I need to retrieve from my home before we meet at the shop.”

 

“Yeah, I better get goin’ myself,” Spike agreed.  “Overcast provides some protection, but no tellin’ when it’s goin’ to clear up.”

 

Dawn studied her sister reaction carefully.  Buffy gave a barely noticeable sigh, and then said, “Right, sun plus vampire equals very bad thing.”

 

Spike smiled at the simple way she put it.  “Yeah, love.  So, I’ll get to the Magic Box later today.”

 

“Okay,” she smiled back before he headed for the door with the still apparently oblivious Giles.  After they left, the slayer watched the closed door for a few moments, then turned to her mother and sister.  Joyce looked confused about something while Dawn just flashed a knowing smile.  “What?”

 

“Nothing,” Dawn beamed.  Oh, yeah.  She so digs him.

 

Buffy gave her a strange look, then charged back up stairs, muttering something about getting ready.

 

“Did I…miss something?” Joyce asked her youngest daughter.

 

The brown-haired girl couldn’t take it anymore.  She gave her teenage squeal, then relayed everything she had seen to her mother.

 

**********

 

Buffy wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at the reflection in it.  She was going to be meeting the others at the Magic Box in less than an hour, but she really didn’t feel like going.  What she really wanted to do was to go back and hide in her bed with Dylan until this was all over. 

 

Everything had just started to go right in her life.  She had gone back to school and was actually doing well, her family and friends were being extremely supportive with her and Dylan, she had her own money for the first time in life, and there had been no major disasters or apocalypses since they arrived back in town. There hadn’t been the slightest sign of a Big Bad.  But now there was and she was terrified.

 

If it had only been her, she would have never given it a second thought.  That was what she did, who she was, the Slayer, hunter of the baddies and defender of the good.  Now, however, it wasn’t just her.  She had Dylan to think of, and her daughter getting hurt because of something like this scared her more than the Master or Glory or even Angelus ever could.

 

Buffy knew if anything ever happened to her that Dylan would be well taken care of.  There would always be someone for her, whether it be Dawn or her mother or Giles or one of the guys.

 

Of course, they would all have to come after Spike.  He swore to her once that he would never leave Dylan, and she was going to hold him to his word, even if she had to do it from beyond the grave.

 

She sighed at the thought of the bleach blond.  Buffy didn’t how she felt about him anymore.  It was so simple before; he hated her, she hated him, and they were happy that way.  Now things were different, and she didn’t know how they got that way. 

 

Thanksgiving had been the first time she really knew something had changed between them.  First there was the kiss, that sweet kiss they had shared on the front porch.  Even now, a week later, she still blushed when she thought about it.  She found herself wishing that they would share more like that, but then came the memories of the fight.

 

Buffy wished she could tell him.  They didn’t hold back secrets before, and she felt bad that she had to now.  She knew she wasn’t alone in the knowledge about her baby sister, that she could always go and talk to Joyce or Giles about it, but she wanted to be able to talk to him about it.  Spike always understood better than anyone she had known before.

 

She sighed again, then turned away from the reflection and began to get dressed.  She wouldn’t let herself think about this. Everything would be fine, just like always.  She didn’t know how, but it would be.

 

The slayer turned off the bathroom light and headed back into her own room to find Dylan was still asleep in her crib.  The child had finally gotten back to sleep soon after their dream, and now was sleeping like a rock.  When the girl wanted to, she could sleep as soundly as anyone Buffy had ever met before.  Must get from Dawn, or maybe Spike.

 

Buffy looked out the twin windows above the crib.  Over head, the sky had a thick layer of gray clouds cover up the blue, looking every bit the part of a winter’s day.  Normally, she didn’t like it when the weather was like this, but she could use this to her advantage.  The weather man had said it was supposed to stay like this all day and she hoped she would be able to get Spike out this afternoon so they could go pay Willy the Snitch an early visit.  No harm in asking at least.  Besides, the sooner they had information, the better she would feel.

 

“Come on, baby,” Buffy said, reaching down into the crib and picking the sleepy toddler up.  “Let’s go see your Daddy before we go meet Grandpa Giles and the others.”

 

“No, sweep,” Dylan protested.  She was starting to put together small sentences now, a major accomplishment for any child, but her mother found herself really wishing that the child could form larger ones to tell them what was happening.  That is, if the child knew herself.

 

Dylan was fussy for as long as Buffy was dressing her, but, once her clothes were changed, the child’s demeanor did a one eighty and now she was ready to go anywhere her mother was willing to take her.

 

When Buffy finished, the now energetic child held her tiny arms up and said, “Swayer, up.”

 

Her mother dropped her shoulders before doing as the child asked.  “It’s Mommy, Dylan,” she told her grabbing the blue jean baby bag and heading downstairs.

 

The child gave her mother a smirk that looked far too much like her father’s, and Buffy knew for a fact that the girl was calling her that because she didn’t like it.  She was so Spike’s daughter.

 

Buffy shook her head as she reached the bottom of the stairs, then called back up them, “Dawn, we’re leaving.”

 

“Just a minute!” the teen called back and she could hear the shuffling coming from her sister’s room.

 

That’s great.  A minute in teenage time meant at least another ten in regular.

 

“You have exactly one minute then I’m going with or without you,” Buffy said loudly.

 

The slayer wandered into the living room to wait, when Joyce walked in from the kitchen, nursing a fresh cup of coffee.  “Are you sure you don’t want me to watch her for the day?  A baby can be awful distracting if you’re trying to do research.”

 

Buffy gave her mother a weary smile.  Usually, she did let Dylan stay with her mother when she had official Scooby business to attend to, but she didn’t want the child out of her sight today for some reason.  She pushed the child a little higher up in her arms, then said, “It’s okay. Anya’s got the pen set up in the store already for Jessie, and she’ll be there, so they should keep each other busy.”

 

Joyce nodded, seemingly understanding more than Buffy thought.  “Alright, dear.  But I’ll be here if you change your mind.”

 

“I’m ready,” Dawn said, charging down the stairs, straightening out a purple crushed velvet shirt.

 

“Well, I’m glad you finally decided to join us,” Buffy answered sarcastically joining her sister near the front door.  “Come on.  We’ve got to stop by Spike’s place first.”

 

She came close to saying his crypt, but stopped just short.  He didn’t live in the old place anymore, and that seemed beyond strange to her.  The bleach blond had actually rented an apartment soon after they had moved back saying that he didn’t want Dylan running around an old cemetery when she came to see her da’.  Buffy didn’t disagree with the decision, she didn’t want Dylan in a cemetery any more then he did, but she did kind of miss the place.  She missed the candles being lit and the glow they gave the place.  Not that she would ever admit to that in a millions years, but still, it was a good place to hide out when they needed it.

 

He had let some demon buddy of his named Clem move into the place.  Clem was a good guy, once you got past the floppy skin and kitty eating thing, and said he would let them hide out or crash there whenever they liked.  That would never happen, but it was good to know for just-in-case emergencies.

 

“Okay,” Dawn said with a sly smile as Buffy fastened Dylan into the stroller.  “And since we’re going that way, can we stop by McDonald’s for a Quarter Pounder?”

 

Buffy rolled her eyes at her sister as she went towards the door.  She had just seen that girl scarf down two eggs and a thing of bacon and she was sure that Xander would have made one of his donut runs by the time they got there, and she still wanted to stop by McDonalds for more? 

 

“You are such a porker, Dawn,” she sighed.

 

“Am not!” the teen yelled, horrified that her sister would even suggest such a thing.

 

“Are too,” Buffy smirked as she pulled on her jacket.

 

“Am not.”

 

The two girls fell silent as the slayer stood there with the door open in her hand, both staring straight ahead at the person in front of them.  Buffy felt her mouth go dry as she watched him shift nervously on his feet.

 

“Hello, Buffy,” Angel said.

 

**********

 

Anya frowned as she watched Willow grab a bottle of black sand off the shelf and placed it with the other items that she and Tara had collected for the protection spell for the Magic Box.  Didn’t they know that black sand wasn’t cheap?  It had to be special ordered all the way from the lower planes of India where one little old man knew where to find it.  And he didn’t get it often!

 

But did Giles care?  Nooooo.  ‘Oh, no, Anya, don’t charge them.  This is important.  I don’t care if I go broke and die penniless in the street while you and your family starve because I give my friends special discounts.’  After working for the man for so long, the young woman had finally just decided that he knew nothing of how to be a good business man.

 

When the two witches had gathered their supplies and headed out the back door to begin, the bell over the front door rang out brightly, lifting Anya’s spirits with thought of a customer.  She watched the sandy blond-haired man as he browsed around, carefully inspecting one item after another.  When she felt this had gone on long enough, she came around the counter, planted that large smile she saved for when she felt a big sale coming on her face, and joined the man in the showplace.

 

“Can I help you?” she asked politely though her large smile.  She had learned that people tend to buy more when you seem like you really want to help them and are nice.

 

The young man returned the smile and he picked up a package of troll wood moss.  Oh, good, that stuff is nice and expensive too, she thought.

 

“Ah, yeah,” he said tossing the little baggy back onto the counter.  “I’m looking for a book, Magicus de Praeteritum Tempus.”

 

“Oh, yes, I do believe we have a copy of it,” she told him leading him over to the counter before ducking behind it quickly.

 

He leaned against the counter as she began to dig around on the lower shelf where Giles had stashed the more expensive books.  While she looked for the one he requested, the young man glanced over to the area under the loft that she had converted into a play area for Jessie so she wouldn’t have to leave her at home.  The eight-month-old was sitting there in the middle, quietly chewing on a stuffed ret’yama demon that her Uncle D’Hoffryn had sent her.  He made a face at the disgusting looking creature she was playing with, as her mother found the book and slammed it on the counter.

 

“This book has all sorts of protection spells in it, and all the ingredients that you will need are sold right here in the store,” she said brightly.  He began to flip through the old, leather bound edition, silently making mental notes of pages.  “There is one spell in there I highly recommend.  The ingredients cost a little more, but you can’t beat its results.  I used it on my home.  I could go ahead and gather them up if you like.”

 

“Hum?” he said, having stopped listening to her some time back.  “Ah, yeah, that sounds good.”

 

She knew it!  This guy was going to be a good sale.

 

The ex-demon came back around the counter and into the main area they had just been in a few moments before.  When she was gathering the ingredients, he called to her, “Is it true that there is a spell in here to strip a person of their powers?”

 

“Strip a person of their powers?”

 

“You know, make them normal, like us.”

 

Anya shrugged.  “Yes, I believe there is one, but it is highly dangerous, even for the most experienced person.”  She picked up the last of the ingredients and headed back around the counter.  “Why?”

 

He shrugged.  “Just curious is all.” 

 

The little blond woman began to ring him up, knowing the sale was going to be at least two hundred dollars, happy that she would make some money today.  The man, however, just kept looking over at Jessie, who was watching her mother work.

 

“That your kid?” he asked, nudging his head towards the baby.

 

“Oh, yes,” Anya said placing his things inside a bag.  “That’s my little precious Jessica Diamond.  That will be two hundred and fifteen dollars.”

 

“Jessica Diamond?” he asked with a raised eyebrow counting out his cash.

 

She took the wad of green bills and counted them out again to be sure he had given her the right amount.  “Oh, yes.  That’s her name.  I wanted to call her diamond because those gems are so sparkly and pretty and expensive, but my husband insisted that we call her Jessie after some old friend of his.  Can I help it that he had to kill him?”

 

The young man blinked at the woman before taking the bag from her.  “Um, I guess not.”  He backed away from her and headed for the front door.

 

“Thank you,” she called to his back.  “Shop with us again.”

 

The shop’s bell rang again as the man reached the door, and Willow walked inside.  Anya watched as the two eyed each other hard before he passed her and disappeared into to the street.  The red head watched the direction he left in before hurrying inside.

 

“Who was that?” she demanded from the young woman who was working behind the counter.

 

“Who?”

 

“That guy!  Who was he?”

 

“I don’t know, just some guy,” she shrugged.  “He bought lots of expensive things, and actually paid for them in cash.  Unlike some people.”

 

Drawing a deep breath, Willow glanced over her shoulder back at the door.  “I don’t like him,” she said shaking her head.  “There’s something off. I could feel it.”

 

Anya raised an eyebrow at that statement.  “He seemed perfectly normal to me.”

 

“Well, if he comes back, don’t sell him anything else.  We don’t want a repeat of what happened with Glory,” she warned, grabbed the rest of the black sand she had left on the table, and hurried back outside before Anya could protest.

 

**********

 

Buffy stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room, watching the older vampire who was staring at the toddler that was standing up in her play pen, studying the strange new man who had come to visit.  He didn’t look as if he quite knew what to make of her, and the child had the odd look of fascination as she cocked her head to the side and let her little mouth drop ever so slightly open.  Angel jerked his eyes closed and turned away from her; Buffy knew why.  It was, as Xander had put it, the ‘Spike look,’ and a painful little reminder to Angel about who Dylan’s father really was.

 

He had taken the news as well as could be expected from him.  When she told him, he just looked at her stone faced, never changing emotion from the even face that he had perfected over the years, but she saw the fire dance behind his eyes.  He was angry, upset, but, most of all, hurt. 

Still, there was nothing to be done now, and she wouldn’t change it even if there were.  Not for him, not for anyone.

 

Thankfully, her sister picked up very quickly that this was a place that she didn’t want to be, so she grabbed the young boy that had come with Angel and the polite, understanding creature that had once been Cordelia Chase, and took off for the Magic Box to let everyone know what was up.  Dawn had the strictest instructions to head strait for the shop, but Buffy had a feeling that she may have made a detour to a certain bleached friend’s apartment. 

 

“Angel,” Dylan said, smiling brightly at him, waiting for the happy reaction that all the others gave her whenever she said their name correctly.

 

But he just looked at her, his lips never wavering from the strait line, and her little face began to fall and darken.  Looks like it’s time for Mom to step in.  Buffy glanced around the room and found her stuffed dog lying on the end of the couch that Angel sat on.

 

“Dylan,” she said as she walked over and picked up the animal.  “You want your dog?”

 

“Willow!” the baby cried happily, forgetting about the mean man that sat in front of her.  “Want Willow.”

 

As she gave it to her, Angel raised an eyebrow.  “Willow?”

 

“Don’t ask,” Buffy sighed sitting down next to him.  “It’s confusing as hel-heck now that Willow’s back.  I don’t think she particularly likes a dog being named after her either,” she said with a shallow laugh.

 

“I can see why,” he answered, the awkward silence coming yet again.  “Did he…force himself-?”

 

“What?  God, no!” she cut him off.  “It was a spell.  I told you that.”

 

“Are you sure he had nothing to do with it?” he asked coolly.  “Because this is Spike we’re talking about.  I wouldn’t put it past him.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him.  “Yeah, Angel, that makes a lot of sense.  I’m sure Spike just woke up one night, said, ‘Hum, I’m bored so why don’t I go get myself kidnapped, put into isolation for months, knock the slayer up, then spend the next year runnin’ around the globe because some crazy witch wants the kid.’  Yeah, that just screams ‘Spike.’”

 

“You don’t know him like I do, Buffy,” he bit back, his own temper rising.

 

She gave him a good, long, cold stare.  “I know him a lot better than you think.”  Her anger began to die as she looked down at the little girl before them who was now sitting in the play pen, quietly cuddling with her stuffed animal.  “He’s different, Angel.  Even before the soul he was.”

 

“Oh, yeah, I forgot about the soul,” he grumbled coldly.  “How do you even know it’s really there, Buffy?  Does he feel sorry for the things he’s done?  Does he mourn for the people he killed like I do?  Tell me, Buffy.  If you know him so well, does he?”

 

“He’s not you, Angel,” she told him, avoiding his accusing gaze.

 

“But he was close enough to get you to sleep with him,” he said under his breath, but loud enough to where she could hear him.

 

Without a thought, she spun around and slapped him hard across the face, causing his head to jerk to the side.  Dylan looked up at the sound, but her mother was to busy concentrating on the person before her to notice.

 

“How dare you say something like that to me?  I was under a spell then. We both were.”  She then sneered, “You have a son with Darla.  What’s your excuse?”

 

He frowned deeply at her choice of words and the point she had made.  Then?  He didn’t like what that meant.

 

“I knew this was a mistake to talk to you alone,” she said after a moment, her voice becoming softer with every word.  “I just wanted you to understand.”

 

The tiny blonde stood up from the couch, picked Dylan up out of the pen, and disappeared out the front door to meet up with her friends.

 

---

 

Part 3: The Gathering

 

Marie pulled back the cheap hotel’s thick, radiation proof curtains and checked for the familiar blue Taurus, only to find that it still hadn’t returned.  It had been nearly an hour, where on earth could he be?  It wasn’t like this was some huge town that he could get lost in.  Hell, she had been to villages in Japan that were bigger then this place.  Not to mention nicer.

 

“Re,” a little voice said from beside her as a tiny hand pulled on the bottom of her over sized peasant shirt.

 

She glanced down at her side and found the little three-year-old staring up at her with his large, tired brown eyes.  His Spider Man t-shirt he wore was horribly wrinkled from his nap. 

 

“When’s Daddy coming home?” he asked, a slight pout forming on his lips.

 

A kind smile formed on hers as she reached over and rubbed the side of his head.  Unlike his father, Van a had head full of dark brown hair, reminding the young woman how much he actually looked like her sister.  She wished so badly that she was still alive.  If nothing else, so she could be here instead of her.

 

“Soon, baby,” she told him sweetly.

 

“I hope so,” the child told her as he wrapped his arms around her waist and laid his little head on her hip.  “Night’s coming.  Bad things come out at night.  Like the bad things that sent Mommy to heaven.”

 

“I know,” she said, trying to sooth her nephew with a gentle rocking motion.  “But that’s why Daddy’s here, remember?”

 

He nudged his little head closer into her side, and, to her relief, she heard the lock to the room being turned.  Van’s face brightened when his father step through, carrying a large bag with ‘The Magic Box’ printed on its side.  The child let go of his aunt and leapt to his father.

 

“Hey, buddy,” he said kneeling down to his level.  “Have a good nap?”

 

“Uh, huh,” the child said bobbing his head up and down before noticing the bag.  “Daddy, what’s that?”

 

Eric looked down at the shopping bag, then back at his son.  “Something for your Aunt Marie.  Now, why don’t you go wash up, and I’ll take us out to eat.  How about at…Doublemeat?”

 

“Yeah!” the three-year-old exclaimed before he took off for the bathroom and left the two adults alone in the room. 

 

Inwardly, Marie shuttered at the thought of eating at the disgusting place again.  Just something about there being two kinds of meat in the thing made her stomach turn, not to mention the fact that it taste like neither beef nor chicken.  But Eric just smiled at his son’s excitement for such a cheap meal before turning to his sister-in-law.

 

“Here,” he said handing the bag over to her.  “Hope it’s the right kind of stuff.  The sales girl just kept pulling these little bags off the shelf and shoving them in there.”

 

“Not to mention she over-charged you,” the woman answered, holding up a little bag of cat tooth powder.  “How much did you spend?”

 

He sighed as he walked over to the table and flopped down in one of the chairs.  “Let me put it to you this way. There’s a reason why we’ll be eating from the value meal for the next couple of days.  So, you think you can do it with this stuff?”

 

“Oh, yeah, no problem.  We just need one more thing, though.”

 

“What’s that?”

 

She drew in a breath and let it out slowly.  “A lock of the girl’s hair.”

 

Eric groaned as he leaned back on the bed.  Marie knew that was easier said than done, but there was no other way.

 

“Fine,” he sighed.  “I’ll get it, somehow.”

 

“Good, I’ll call the boss then and let him know what’s up,” she said as she tucked away the supplies.  “Come Monday, this should all be over with.”

 

“I hope you’re right.”

 

**********

 

Travers sat back in his chair, staring out the large window in his office at the dark city bathed in a thick cover of fog.  In less than two weeks, the child would be a full year old, and she was still beyond his control.  It wasn’t right, she was his project, his prize, and she was still with that slayer and that…thing.  Disgusting really, not to mention disgraceful.

 

Lindsey had been sensing her boss’ down mood and felt it best if she avoided him.  He didn’t even remember the last time she had actually come into his office; just called him over the intercom if there were a call or let in a person with a scheduled appointment. Tonight was no exception.

 

“Mr. Travers,” a tiny voice came.  “There’s a call for you on line two.”

 

“Thank you, Lindsey,” he replied before picking up the phone.  “Travers.”

 

“Hello, Mr. Travers,” a woman answered coolly, causing the Watcher to sit up straight.

 

“Ah, it is so good to hear from you, my dear.  Tell me, how are things?”

 

“Going very well, Sir.  Though, I fear that the witch may be starting to suspect something.”

 

He frowned deeply at the news.  “That is unfortunate. Do you think she’ll be a problem before you are able to fulfill your job?”

 

The woman on the other end snorted.  “No.  And even if she is, I can take care of that very easily.”

 

“Excellent,” he said with a wicked smile, feeling his spirits lifting with the news.  “Do not forget our deal, Ms-“

 

“I haven’t.  I give you what you want and we’re even.”

 

“Of course, my dear,” he lied.  If she really thought that this would be the end of their association, she was seriously mistaken.  “I look forward to seeing you and the child soon.”

 

“Sure, whatever,” she answered, sounding rather annoyed before hanging up.

 

The old man sat back in his chair and laughed slightly to himself.  Well, maybe he would be celebrating the first year of life with the little precious herself after all.

 

**********

 

Angel paused at the entrance to the Magic Box.  He knew he shouldn’t have said those things to Buffy; he knew when those words passed out of his mouth that he shouldn’t have, but he had.  That look on her face hurt a hundred times worse then the sting of the slap.

 

He sighed deeply from within.  Well, time to face the music.

 

The little bell rang out loudly as he pushed the door open and he felt the tension hit him in a hard wave when he stepped inside.  The whole room paused and turned to look at him, half with scolding eyes, the others leaving him to deal with this on his own.  Oh, this was definitely not good.

 

Buffy was standing over by the counter, the other women of the group forming an almost protective circle around her and the baby she held.  Her usually bright hazel eyes were still dark from hurt as she pushed Dylan a little higher on her hip, and then said, “I’m going to go train in the back.”

 

“Buffy-“ he said gently, taking a step in the direction she was fleeing, but Dawn moved in his way, her arms crossed and the iciest glare on her face that he had ever seen before.

 

Cordy, who had much the same look on her face, grabbed him by the arm and started to pull him back towards the door saying, “We need to talk.  Now.”

 

Angel cringed inwardly.  He knew that tone, and this wasn’t going to be pretty.  She dragged him out front, crossed her arms, and shifted all her weight to one foot.  Her eyes were hard as she bit at him, “What the hell is wrong with you?  Did that part of your brain that tells you when not to say something just stop working today or something?”

 

“Cordy-“

 

“Because, I swear that if you’d said that to me, you’d be calling the Dust Buster in the utility closet home.”

 

He dug his hands deep into his pockets as he looked down to the sidewalk.  Cordelia became very nervous herself as she shifted on her feet and carefully asked, “Are you still in love with her?”

 

His head shot up at that.  “What?  No.  I’m not.  We’re just friends…or we were.”

 

“So, then why were you playing The Jerk?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

“I-I don’t know,” he said sighing.  “I mean, she told me about her and…She told me who Dylan’s father is, and-I don’t know.  I just got mad.  I mean Spike-Spike!-has a child, her child.  He got to see her first steps and hear her first words and he’ll get to be there for the first day of school and hear her call him daddy.  He doesn’t deserve to have that.”

 

Cordy blinked as she listened to him.  “You’re jealous.”

 

“What?  No.”

 

“Yes, yes you are!  You’re jealous of Spike.” 

 

He glared at her for a moment, determined that she was wrong.  He was not jealous of Spike, the annoying vampire had nothing he wanted.  Just because his grandchilde got to have a pretty little girl, who would love him no matter what, and look to him for answers and comfort, and would never look at him with contempt because of what he was…Oh, God, he was jealous.  Spike was going to get to have the life with Dylan that Angel never got to have with Connor, and that made the elder vampire angry.  Why would the PTB’s allow the bleach blond to have that life and not him?   It wasn’t fair.   Spike didn’t deserve it, but, then, neither did he.

 

“Well, you’re just going have to get over it,” Cordelia’s voice broke through his thoughts.  “I mean, look, I’m not all ‘yeah, go Spike’ or anything, but if you want to keep Buffy as your friend, I suggest that you get over it.”

 

“It’s not that simple, Cordy,” he said solemnly.

 

She sighed.  “I know it’s not.  But, remember, we’re here to help Buffy, not attack her and her life choices.  If we were, I would have been all over that outfit she has on.  I mean, hello, the peasant look is so yesterday.”

 

Angel couldn’t help but smile at her.  She hadn’t even been back in town one night and she was already tapping her old May Queen persona.  Must be something to do with the Hellmouth.  Brings out the worst in everyone.

 

“Besides,” she went on.  “If Dylan really is Spike’s, then that kind of makes her part of your family.  Which means we’ve got some major catching up to do in the spoiling department if we want her to be as bad as Xander’s little girl.”

 

He laughed softly at her.  Spoiling the girl rotten did have a certain nice evil quality to it.

 

“Now, go apologize to Buffy and let the spoiling begin.  I want that kid so rotten by the time we leave that they’ll shutter the next time we call and say we’re coming up.”

 

Angel bent over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.  “Thanks, Cordy,” he said before heading into the shop to do just as the seer suggested.

 

**********

 

Buffy stood in front of the black bag, continuously punching it as hard as she could while Dylan watched in amazement from her play pen. 

 

How dare he come here and judge her for something she had no control over!  He at least knew what he was doing when he slept with Darla!  But does that matter?  No.  Cause he’s Angel and he gets to make mistakes and not have anything said to him.  But because she was Buffy, his pure, innocent slayer led to corruption by his wayward grandchilde, he could judge her life all he wanted.  That just wasn’t fair!

 

She reared back and punched the bag with all her might, knocking it off the hinges and causing it to land on the ground with a loud thud.

 

“Well, it’s good to know that if we ever get attacked by a legion of evil punchin’ bags you can take ‘em,” Spike said sarcastically, leaning in the doorway from the alley.

 

The slayer glared over her shoulder at him before starting to take off the tape wrapped around her hands.

 

“Daddy!” Dylan chirped happily, holding up her arms to him.  “Up.”

 

He smiled kindly at the child before complying with her wish.  She snuggled into the cool, soft leather jacket as he kissed her forehead and turned his attention back to her mother.

 

“Take it Peaches ‘as been givin’ you a hard time,” he said calmly daring to get a little closer to her, though he knew he would be risking himself.  Even if he was holding the baby, she could still take him out in a second flat and be holding Dylan in her own arms before he hit the ground.  He’d much rather not go into how he knew that.

 

Buffy grunted as she jerked off the top to her water bottle.  So he had talked to Dawn.

 

“You can say that,” she snorted before taking a sip of the liquid like it was vodka instead of water.  “I mean, where the hell does he get off riding me for what happened?  It’s not like he was in the picture then anyway.”

 

Spike frowned at her words.  He wasn’t in the picture then?

 

“I mean, come on, give the jealous boyfriend act a rest already,” she said shaking her head slowly. 

 

She knew he wasn’t really mad at her, he was mad at the situation, and, since Spike wasn’t there, he lashed out at her.  Like the rest of her friends, it would take him awhile to get used to it, but he would eventually.  Though, she didn’t think that she should plan on him ever liking the fact that Dylan was Spike’s child.  That’s okay, though.  She really didn’t like the fact that Connor was Darla’s son, so she guessed they were even there.

 

“Sorry I wasn’t there for you, love,” Spike said, shifting Dylan in his arms as she played with the lapel of his coat.

 

The slayer gave him a weary smile.  “It’s okay.  If you had been, I’d probably been empting what’s left of you into the trash right about now.”

 

“What?  You think I couldn’t take on dear old Grandpappy?” he asked with a smirk.

 

“In a word?  No.”

 

He laughed at her.  “Okay, come on, Buffy.  I could kick the poof’s-“

 

“Buffy, I-“ Angel voice called, cutting Spike off.  The older vampire froze in the doorway, his eyes locked on the younger vampire.  If looks could kill, Spike thought idly as he shifted Dylan in his arms.  “You,” his grandsire hissed.

 

Spike smirked at the poof.  “’ello, Peaches, it’s been awhile since I last tortured you.”

 

“Peaches!” Dylan repeated happily, causing Spike to smirk even more if it where possible.

 

“That’s my girl,” he whispered softly in her ear.

 

But Angel didn’t seem to notice the small child in his arms.  In fact, he was across the room in a second flat and had Spike pinned against the wall by the throat.  Dylan began to cry as her father tried to keep his grandsire off with one arm, and maneuver her with the other.

 

“Get off!” Buffy exclaimed in a horrified tone, jerking her ex to the ground and placing herself between the two.  She took the screaming child from her father, began rocking her, and then turned her venomous stare toward her old flame.  “Are you insane?!  You could have hurt Dylan!”

 

Angel blinked from the ground and looked at the child in her arms, seeing her for the first time since he had come into the training room.  “Oh, Buffy, I’m sorry.”

 

“Buffy!” Dawn said rushing in with Giles.  “What’s wrong?  Why’s Dylan screaming like that?”

 

The slayer gave Angel a cold look before turning her attention back to her sister.  “She just got a little scared is all,” she said kissing the child on the head.  “I think she’ll be okay in a minute.”

 

“Yeah, as long as the great hair gelled one stays away from her,” Spike added coldly.

 

His grandsire growled lowly at the comment, but Buffy quickly shut him up with a look before passing her baby to Dawn.  The tiny blonde then said to Spike, “Come on, let’s head to Willy’s.  I’m suddenly really in the mood to beat something up.”

 

Cordy was standing by the door as the slayer passed, a confused look on her face as the two headed out the front entrance.  The seer then turned from the door, and glared at Angel, who was still sitting on the ground.  “That’s not what I meant when I said apologize.”

 

---

 

Part 4: Lucky Ones

 

Bang!

 

“OWW!!”

 

She loved that.  That perfect popping sound as her fist slammed into the man’s face and broke his nose.  It was music to her ears.  How sick is that?

 

Willy drew his hands up over his now bleeding nose, his eyes almost completely squeezed shut as he tried to stop the blood flow.  Buffy drew back her fist beside her head, keeping it raised up enough to strike at her given will.  Spike smiled his approval of her methods, before she proceeded on.

 

“What’s going on, Willy?” she said coolly.

 

“I swear on my mother’s grave I don’t know, Slayer,” the bartender whined through his hands.  “Well, I would swear on her grave if she were dead.”

 

“Wrong answer, mate,” Spike told him as Buffy drew back her fist to hit him again.

 

“Okay! Okay!” the rat like man said, waving his arms in front of her to stop the punch before she could throw it.  His whole face was now covered in blood.  She didn’t realize she had hit him that hard.  “Some guy’s been goin’ around askin’ a lot of questions about you guys and the other white hats.”

 

“Who?” Buffy demanded.

 

Willy took a step back, thinking that perhaps she wouldn’t be able to reach him.  “I haven’t a clue.”

 

Spike’s hand shot out, wrapped around the man’s collar, and jerked him back hard into the counter with a satisfying thud.  The vampire was in full game face now as he held the seedy barkeep that looked as if he might wet himself close and growled, “Who, Willy?”

 

“Alright!  Some blond guy!” Willy screamed in fear, knowing that Buffy would probably never kill him intentionally, but Spike would have no problem with it. 

 

Spike slightly relaxed his grip on Willy’s collar as he slipped back into his human form.  He really was too easy to get information out of sometimes.

 

“Did you get a name?” Buffy bit at the bartender.

 

“Um…Eric, I think.  But that’s all I know, I swear.”

 

The bleach blond studied the man in his grip for a long time before letting him go.  Willy stumbled away from the side of the bar Spike stood on, inadvertently taking him closer to Buffy again.   He glanced over at the smaller blond, only to find her fist slamming into his face one last time for good measure.

 

“Oww!” he screamed again, covering his already bloody nose once more.

 

“Thanks, Willy,” she smirked before the two headed back into the thundering night.

 

**********

 

Willow gave a deep sigh as she placed the book back on the shelf and rejoined the fellow Wicca at the pizza box covered table.  Dawn couldn’t help but smile when the red head curled up next to Tara, smiled, and began to read her book with her.  It was good to see Willow smile; she so rarely did it anymore.

 

The teen glanced around the room, surveying what the other adults were doing.  Giles, of course, was slumped over his book, deep in research mode for any clues he thought might prove useful later on.  Apparently not knowing what they were looking for wouldn’t stop the Watcher.

 

Xander was leaning back in one of the table’s chairs, looking full and content with his own book opened in his lap.  To be truthful, he had that glazed look in his eyes, like he wasn’t really reading what was in front of him, but wanted to look like he was.  Dawn actually half expected to hear a faint snore from the carpenter, even if his eyes weren’t open at the time.

 

Anya was fluttering around the shop, getting ready for closing time, which was fast approaching.  The ex-demon had made a rather large sale earlier that day and had been content for the rest of the afternoon, which the rest of the group was thankful for because at least then they wouldn’t have to listen to her complain.

 

Connor and Angel had disappeared soon after sunset to do a quick patrol.  The girl understood the vampire probably needed to beat something up as bad as her sister did.  Dawn could honestly say she felt sorry for any baddies that ran across those two tonight.

 

At the moment, Cordelia was playing with the two baby girls who had both started to get fussy when the storm that was threatening to pound on them blew in off the coast.  Jessie was sitting quietly, still clutching her demon doll, and watching Dylan bounce around in front of Cordy, giggling wildly as the seer would tickle her whenever she caught her.  It was distracting, yes, but at least the toddler wasn’t running around the store anymore.

 

The rain finally started to beat down heavily on the roof, causing everyone in the shop to look up towards the ceiling.  Even the groggy Xander said, “Here comes the rain.”

 

“I hope Buffy and Spike get back okay,” Tara thought aloud before turning back to the book before her.

 

“Ah, the Buffster will be fine,” Xander reassured her, getting up from the chair for a good stretch.  “As for Spike…let the vamp drown for all I care.”

 

“Xander!” Tara and Dawn snapped in unison.

 

“What?  I’m just saying…”

 

“I’m sure they’re both fine,” Giles put in, trying to stop the fight before it started.  “All though, it will probably be awhile before either they or Angel and Connor will be able to return.”

 

“Oh, drat, we have to put a hold on the awkward, uncomfortable silence?  I just don’t know how I will ever go on,” Xander said sarcastically as he walked over and scooped Jessie up in his arms.

 

Cordelia rolled her eyes before picking Dylan up to face her old boyfriend.  “Gee, aren’t we Mr. Sarcastic tonight?”

 

“Xaner sartatick,” Dylan agreed with a grin.

 

“Great, now not only do I get to be ‘Whelp’ but I’m ‘sartatick’ too,” he said giving Cordy a pointed look.

 

“Not my fault the kid learns quickly,” the seer answered, with a sarcastic grin like she had in high school. 

 

Great, the two hadn’t even said two words to each other all day, and, now that they do, their fighting worse the Buffy and Spike, Dawn thought with a sigh.  At least they were both holding children so they wouldn’t hurt each other.

 

The rest of the group groaned as Xander continued, “Is that the great Queen C I see coming out of you, Cordy?  I thought you finally outgrew that.”

 

“Guys!” Dawn pleaded, hoping that would make them stop.  It didn’t.

 

“I did.  But apparently you didn’t outgrow being a complete as-“

 

A loud clap of thunder cut her off before sending the whole shop into darkness, except for the small flashes of light from the window.  Jessie began to cry from being scared by the nose and clung onto her father for safety.  Xander began to sway with the child, trying his best to calm her down, as the other Scoobies sprang into action.

 

“Alright, everyone,” Giles said in his take charge tone like he was talking to a bunch of kids again.  “Just stay calm and look for some candles.”

 

“In-cendo!” Willow said, forming a little ball of white light in her cupped palm.

 

“Or we could do that,” the Watcher said dryly as all eyes turned to the red head.

 

“You finally figured out that sunshine trick?” Xander asked hopefully when Jessie’s cries lessened.

 

Willow shrugged. “Na, think of this as more of a magical flashlight trick.”

 

“Hey, either works for me,” he said as those with free hands began to gather up the candles from around the shop and set them on the table.

 

Dawn headed back for the storage room where she knew Giles kept a lot more of the candles, when a cool wind blew in from the back training room.  She glanced inside the large dark room, when another flash of lighting struck outside, showing her that the alley door was opened.  That was odd.  She could have sworn Spike had shut it when they left.

 

“Hey, guys,” the teen called, turning back to the adults.  “Who left the back door-oomph?!”

 

Someone pushed Dawn hard from behind, knocking the teenager to the ground.  As she pushed herself up on her elbows, a woman’s voice from behind her exclaimed, “Exstinguo!”

 

Willow’s ball of light went out with the word, along with the few candles that they had already lit.  Dawn felt someone carefully step over her, then heard their footsteps as they ran across the room towards the group.  She could barely make out the form that moved so gracefully through the darkness that was heading straight for a confused Giles.

 

“Look out!” she screamed, causing Giles to turn just as the person knocked him to the ground forcefully, before the mystery person disappeared into the shadows again.

 

The teen’s eyes darted around the room, looking desperately for a moving shadow.  But the whole room was eerily still, except for Anya trying to help Giles get to his feet again.  Jessie was crying yet again, allowing Dawn to know where she and Xander were, even if she couldn’t see them, and the teen could hear both Tara and Willow murmuring.

 

“Silentium!” the woman voice said again, causing all noise in the room to stop.

 

Dawn watched as Tara and Willow’s shadows started to interact with one another, trying to figure out what had happened to their voices.  Even Jessie’s cries had stopped, and Dawn couldn’t force her own voice to come out.  It was like someone had hit a mute button for the world.

 

Something crashed into Willow, knocking the girl forcefully into the table that she had been standing by.  There was a loud crash as the books they had been researching fell to the ground, and several of the chairs around the table were knocked over.

 

‘Willow!’ Dawn mouthed, but couldn’t say.

 

Cordy was clutching Dylan to her as she backed into the middle of the room shop, trying to find a safe place from the invisible attacker.  The shadow moved at her, and the seer looked as if she were trying to scream, when the bell over the front door rang out and a soaked vampire and his son came inside.  Angel was in full game face, knowing something had been wrong outside, as he charged in and tackled the shadow to the ground. 

 

The vampire growled loudly over him when the woman yelled, “Separate!”

 

The two went flying in opposite directions, Angel back into Connor, and the shadow man crashing into the play area under the loft.  As father and son got back to their feet with the others, the shadow disappeared back into the training room, and out the alleyway door.

 

“Is everyone okay?” Angel asked, looking around for anyone to give him an answer, but only silence greeted him.  “Well?”

 

**********

 

Buffy cursed to herself as she ducked into the crypt, soon followed by the pervious owner.  That storm had caught them off guard, and now they were still half way across town from the Magic Box and didn’t look as if they would make it there anytime soon.  At least they were near Spike’s old crypt, and Clem was always bugging them to drop by anytime they wanted.  Looks like he was going to get that visit tonight.

 

“Clem!” she called into the dark crypt as Spike went to lighting the candles.  “Clem, you home?!”

 

“I think he’s in San Francisco this week, love,” the vampire informed her once he was satisfied with the amount of light.  At her confusion, he explained, “Went to some sci-fi/horror convention.   Says it’s the only time he can go out and meet regular people without them freakin’ out because he looks different.”

 

“I get it, blend in with the guys who wear those freaky masks and all that special effect makeup,” she said, nodding her head to show she understood.  “Kind of smart.”

 

“Yeah,” Spike grinned.  “He wins their best amateur makeup effect every year.”

 

“I bet he does,” she said flopping down on the couch that the demon had drug up into the crypt.

 

The slayer began to mentally scold herself for not getting that cell phone like Dawn had suggested a few weeks ago.  She so wanted to call and make sure that Dylan was alright, but instead she would have to wait until the storm died down so they could leave.  Judging by the amount of nervous energy that Spike was displaying, he felt pretty much the same way she did about being stuck there.

 

“Might as well sit down,” she said after getting slightly dizzy from watching him.  “I don’t think we’ll be going anywhere for awhile.”

 

“I just hate bein’ stuck in this bloody place,” he growled, sitting next to her.

 

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Buffy agreed, leaning back a little further on the couch.  “But unless you have an ark handy, we’re pretty much stuck here.”

 

A loud blast of thunder rang through the air, causing the slayer to jump from surprise.  Her nerves had already been shot to hell from the day she had had, and now she was jumping at thunder like some scared little kid?  Could things get any better?

 

“Ah-choo!” she sneezed.  Well, she was the one that asked.

 

Her small body trembled as the cold winter air seeped in from outside.  Spike raised an eyebrow when he noticed her movements.

 

“Cold, love?”

 

“Just a bit,” she answered, rubbing her still wet arms.  Even with the jacket on, she had gotten soaked, and he didn’t look much better.  With a sigh, the bleach blond stood up and held out his hand for her.

 

“Come on, then.  I think I left some clothes downstairs.  Might not fit right, but at least they’re dry.”

 

Buffy couldn’t help but sneer a little at the thought at wearing his clothes, but he was right.  Dry Buffy in Spike’s clothes was a lot better then sick Buffy in her own outfit.  Reluctantly, she took his hand and followed him down to the lower level.

 

The slayer never remembered coming down here before and was actually kind of amazed at how much room was there.  She couldn’t help but wonder exactly how Spike was able to dig a lot of this out.  No, wait.  On second thought, she didn’t want to know because it probably involved calling in favors that were better left under the table.

 

As he went off in search of the left over clothes, she walked over to the large, four posts bed and looked at it.  The white sheets were nicely cleaned and made up, and looked rather inviting.  Yeah, that would be nice, to curl up into the bed and take a long nap, maybe with a certain someone’s arms around her, after having worn her out from-

 

Whoa!  Wait a minute!  Where’d that come from?  Well, she knew where that had come from, but she was so not going to deal with that right at that moment.  They had more important things to worry about then her sex life, or the lack thereof.

 

“There you go, pet,” Spike said, handing her a royal blue, button up shirt.  “Gonna be big, but at least it’s not wet.”

 

“Wow,” she said sounding rather impressed as she held out the shirt to inspect it.  “I didn’t think you owned anything that wasn’t red or black.”

 

“Well, you know me, always like to keep you guessin’,” he said with a cocky grin, sliding his leather jacket off before pealing off his soaked black t-shirt.  Buffy blushed slightly from the sight of him shirtless and what she had just been thinking about, and spun on her heels to face the other direction.  She was doing her best to concentrate on the blue shirt in her hands when she heard him laugh.  “What’s the matter, slayer?  S’not like it’s anythin’ you ‘aven’t seen before.”

 

“Yeah, well, um,” she stuttered, glancing over her shoulder to see him watching her, the red shirt still unbuttoned as he held his arms crossed and waited for her answer.  Her face became even and she said with her back to him, “Just turn around so I can change.”

 

Buffy felt him come closer to her as she played with the shirt he had given her. 

 

“You want me to turn around while you change?” he asked lowly when he was standing directly behind her.  Spike grabbed her wrist and spun her around to face him again.  He stepped forward to where there was barely an inch between the two, and then ducked his face so close to hers so that their lips were nearly touching.  “Make me,” he purred.

 

Buffy swallowed hard at the close contact, and fought to stand on her fast weakening knees.  She wanted to kiss him so bad; she wanted to throw her arms around his neck and just forget everything that was going on.  But she wouldn’t.  Now was not the time, she told herself.

 

“I will,” the petit blonde told him as coldly as she could, but her voice sounded weak even to her.

 

When he didn’t move, she tried to go around him, but he still held onto her wrist.  She had walked just far enough away to where he was going to have to let her go, she heard him mutter, “Oh, bugger it.” 

 

He jerked her back to him by the arm, and caused her to crash against him.

 

“Spi-“

 

He cut her off by crushing his lips to hers.  She held her mouth tight for a moment, surprised by what he had done, but then began to relax it and allowed him to deepen the kiss.  Spike let go of her wrist in favor of holding her by the waist, which allowed her to wrap her arms around his neck.  Buffy finally broke the kiss when she needed air.

 

“Buffy-“

 

“Spike, for once in your life, just shut up,” the slayer said before pressing her lips to his again.

 

**********

 

The old car pulled into the run down motel, the windshield wipers keeping the steady beat with the song on the radio before Eric killed the engine.  The young man looked beaten and worn, as he slumped back in the driver’s seat and glanced over at Marie, who was watching the sleeping child in the back.

 

“Do you think they saw you?” she asked, keeping her voice down not to disturb Van.

 

“No.  They just saw a shadow move,” he told her, making himself more comfortable.  “I don’t even think the vampire knows what I look like.  Tore a hole in my shirt, though.  It was brand new, too.”

 

“I hope he didn’t see you,” she sighed.  “That could really make things more difficult.”

 

“Don’t worry about it so much, we got what we needed.”

 

He reached into his pocket, pulled a clear little baggie filled with the hair that she had requested, and handed it to her. She looked at it for a long moment, then stuffed it into her own pocket.

 

“I better go call the boss and let him know we’re ready to go,” she said, popping open the passenger side door and charging for their hotel room.

 

“Daddy?” the little voice said from the back seat.  Eric looked up into the review mirror and watched his son sit up, rub his eyes, and then yawn widely.  “We back?”

 

“Yeah, buddy, we are.  You ready for bed?”

 

“Not sleepy,” he said, yawing once more.

 

Eric couldn’t help but smile at the tired little guy.  The kid looked like he was about to fall asleep sitting up, yet he was still insisting that he wasn’t tired.

 

“Come on, big guy,” his father said getting the umbrella out.  “Let’s get you to bed.

 

**********

 

Buffy was asleep next to him, curled up in his arms with a contented little smile on her face.  Cor, she was beautiful, especially now when she had that nice glow to her.  He so didn’t want to wake her, but the storm was dying down and they really needed to get back soon.  He just wished they had a little longer.

 

But time was something that they never had.  There was always something waiting for them to tend to, or someone waiting for them to save.  But, it was still raining; he could let her sleep for just a little longer.

 

Nudging his head into the back of her neck, he whispered to her sleeping form, “I love you.”

 

He never saw her eyes open ever so slightly, nor did he notice that the contented smile widened.

 

---

 

Part 5: No Evil

 

Buffy walked a bit more quickly as they approached the Magic Box, her mind going over everything that had happened that night.  Even though she knew she shouldn’t, she couldn’t keep herself from smiling.  She just felt too good.  They’re all in danger and she was on cloud nine.  Yeah, she’s a great friend.

 

It was just that he said he loved her.  Granted she wished he would have told her to her face, but she knew.  Something told her she had known for awhile, or at least suspected.  But to hear it, that was just…amazing.  Okay, Buffy, you’re starting to sound like a lovesick teenager.

 

Wait a minute.  Did she just say lovesick?

 

Buffy reached for the door of the Magic Box when she felt him pull her other arm.  She turned around just in time for him to step to her and brush his lips against hers.  Those soft kisses, she liked those the most.

 

“Spike,” the small blonde said, breaking the kiss, “we can’t.  Not here.”

 

“What?  Scared we’ll give old Rupes a heart attack?” he grinned at her wickedly.

 

“Well, yeah, there’s that.  And also the fact that your grandsire who already hates you and is my ex boyfriend happens to be waiting for us on the other side of the door.”  She shifted her weight onto one foot and crossed her arms.  “Do you really want me to have to explain to Dylan that you’re a big pile of dust because you couldn’t keep your lips to yourself?”

 

“Yeah, but what a way to go,” he purred, kissing her once more.

 

Buffy felt her resolve dissolving quickly.  He was such a good kisser.  If they were back at that the crypt – wait.  Why had they left the crypt again?  It seemed important.  More important than this?  It had to be if they left.  Oh, that’s right.  Big, nasty evil afoot.  Spike was the big, nasty evil once.  Maybe if he was good, she’ll let him be again.  Okay, Summers, that’s it.  Remember, resolve.  Resolve!!

 

She broke the kiss once more, surprised at how tight her lungs felt from the lack of oxygen.  Had they really been kissing that long?  Huh.  She couldn’t ever remember that happening before.

 

“We better get inside,” she told him weakly.  “You know, before they send out a search party.”

 

“Yeah, we should,” he said, nodding his head, but neither one of them moved.  To be honest, she didn’t know if she could right at the moment.

 

“Um, it might actually require us, you know, moving,” Buffy said.

 

“That might help,” he agreed.

 

The slayer swallowed hard, forcing herself not to kiss him again before reluctantly turning back to the door.  After taking several deep breaths in hope that her face would no longer be ‘flushed,’ Buffy opened the door and stepped inside.  Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up at her.  For a split second, Buffy wondered if maybe she had ‘I Just Slept With Spike’ tattooed across her forehead or something.

 

“Hey, guys.  What’s up?” she asked nervously as Spike joined her.

 

“They were attacked tonight after we left,” Connor told her simply as he looked up from the book he and Dawn were sharing.

 

She felt Spike tense next to her before she exclaimed, “What?!  Oh, God.  Is everyone alright?  Where’s Dylan?!”

 

“Cordy’s got her,” Angel told her from his post beside the counter where Giles was writing.

 

The slayer spotted the seer and then snatched the toddler away from her.  Holding her close, Buffy kissed the child on the head as Spike demanded, “Who came after them?  What happened?!”

 

“And why is my baby doing a scene from a silent movie?” Buffy asked, watching curiously as Dylan opened her mouth, look as if she were trying to speak, then repeating the process.

 

Spike looked at his child just as confused as her mother, then turned back to Angel. 

 

“Me and Connor caught the tail end of the show,” Angel told them.  “All we know is that they lost their voices because of some kind of spell.  They’re trying to fix it now, and Giles is writing down everything that happened for us.”

 

Buffy raised her eyebrow as she looked around at her silent friends, and then at the two mute babies.  Jessie sat in her father’s lap, looking to him for answers for what happened. Dylan was fascinated by the fact that, no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t make a sound come out of her mouth.  It didn’t appear to scare her, but that stubborn streak she had inherited from both of her parents had taken over, and she was now determined to not give up until she could speak again.

 

Tara and Willow had found a reversal spell and now they, along with Cordy and Anya, were working to brew the foul smelling stuff that was supposed to give them their voices back. 

 

Xander was trying to keep little Jessie distracted by making her demon doll wags its arms and legs all over the place, as well as make goofy faces to make her smile.  Of course, most of the time Jessie just looked at him like he was insane, but it was kind of cute nonetheless.

 

Giles was at the counter, writing feverishly on a piece of paper what had happened as Angel, Connor, Spike, and Buffy watched.  The two vampires were doing a good job of avoiding eye contact, opting instead to watch the middle aged man’s hand move rapidly to finish his sentence.  When he was done, he tore it out for them to read, and both Angel and Spike made a move for the paper.  Angel reached it first, much to Spike’s annoyance.

 

Angel began to read aloud.  “The power to the shop went out around seven o’clock while we were still researching, and soon after the storm blew up.  When we went in search of some other means of light, someone came in through the back way, and attacked us, though no one was hurt.  He had someone with him, a woman, who cast a spell to first put out the candle we had lit, and then to take away our voices.  Whoever he was, he was about to attack Cordelia and Dylan when Angel and Connor came back and scared him away.”

 

“Bloody hell, Watcher.  A simple ‘We were attacked. A witch took away our voices’ would have worked,” Spike grumbled, earning him an icy glare from Giles.

 

Buffy tighten her grip on Dylan after hearing she had been in direct line of danger.  She knew she should have been there.  Now there were two of them, and one of them is a witch?  Great, that is just what they didn’t need.

 

Dylan stopped her efforts for speech for a moment, noticing her mother’s worried look.  The child then laid her head on Buffy’s shoulder and snuggled up close to her neck.  A kind smile rose to the slayer’s lips at the toddler’s actions to make her feel better, and she reworded them with a kiss on the forehead.

 

“So, there’s two of ‘em now?” Spike continued on, having not noticed what his daughter and her mother were doing.

 

“Looks that way,” Angel sighed, handing the piece of paper over to him to read.  “Shouldn’t be too hard to take care of.  I scared him off pretty easily.”

 

“Ick!” a voice rang out from the center of the room.

 

Everyone turned to find Willow standing there, a cup of that awful stuff they had been brewing in hand, making faces.  When she saw all eyes where on her, she said, “It’s ready.”

 

Tara drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly before taking the cup and drinking from it.  She made a bitter face as she pushed it away quickly like that would make the taste disappear faster.  “Giles?” she said, holding it out for the Watcher next.

 

Buffy had always seen Giles try and act as dignified as he could, no matter the situation.  So the slayer couldn’t help but laugh whenever her Watcher took the cup, took a sip, and nearly spit the stuff out before sputtering “Good Lord, that’s awful!”

 

Seeing that the potion was working, Xander marched up to Giles and held out his free hand to take the glass from the older man.

 

“No, wait, leave that one,” Spike spoke up.  “I like him better without the voice.”

 

Xander glared at the bleach blond, but Angel added, “As much as it pains me, I agree with Spike on that one.”

 

Buffy blinked as she watched the two vampires exchange a small grin at Xander’s aggravation, before he grabbed the cup from Giles and swallowed quickly.

 

“Geeze, Willow,” he said when his voice returned to him.  “That taste like my old gym socks.”

 

“Oh, drat, you figured out the secret ingredient,” Willow played, fixing a bottle with the stuff in it for Dylan and Jessie while the cup was continued to be passed around.  The red head finished and handed it first over to Buffy.  “Here, try and get her to take just a little.”

 

“Think it’ll probably be easier to use the cup, Red,” Spike said and Buffy nodded in agreement before handing the bottle to Xander.

 

Once the cup had been passed around to all the others, it took both Buffy and Spike to force young Dylan to drink from it.  Anya and Xander did not fare much better with Jessie, but when she started to cry from being forced to drink, their task was done.  It wasn’t until Dylan exclaimed, “Yuckie!” that Buffy and Spike’s was.

 

“Now that that’s out of the way, what do we do now?” Connor asked, leaning against the staircase that Dawn was sitting on.  “This guy’s obviously pretty brave if he’s willing to attack the group like he did tonight.”

 

“At least no one got hurt,” Buffy sighed, holding Dylan close.  Spike reached over and pushed down the soft curls of the little girls blond hair and gave her mother a reassuring look.  He wouldn’t let Dylan be in danger again if he could help it.

 

“Yeah, right,” Dawn whined, rubbing the back of her head.  “He ripped out a thing of my hair when he pushed me down.”

 

“I think you’ll survive that,” her sister said, rolling her eyes at the teen.

 

“Don’t feel bad, Dawnie,” Willow said with a grin before reaching up and touching her own head.  “He got me too.”

 

“So, did you guys get any clues while you were at Willy’s?” Xander asked as he sat down again with Jessie.

 

“Got a possible name,” Buffy told him.  “Eric.”

 

“Eric?  Well, doesn’t that just strike fear into your heart,” her friend said sarcastically.

 

“Anything else?” Giles put in, ignoring Xander now all together.

 

“Nothing really,” Spike continued for her. 

 

“Actually, we do have something else,” Angel spoke up.  When all eyes turned to him, he held up a small piece of deep blue cloth.

 

“A dish rag?” Spike asked with a raised eyebrow.

 

“No,” his grandsire hissed.  “I got it off the guy who attacked us tonight.”

 

“So?” Xander said.

 

“So, we can do a location spell with it, you dork,” Cordelia said, catching onto what Angel had in mind a lot faster than the others. 

 

Buffy watched as her ex nodded in agreement and then handed it over to Willow.  “Can you find him with just that?”

 

“Sure, no problem.  Just give us a minute,” she told him, heading back into the center with Tara. 

**********

 

Eric slowly pulled the door close to the attached bedroom that he and Van were sharing leaving the little boy sleeping quietly.  Marie had been busy setting up her room for the spell she was about to perform, and now the whole place smelled like incense.  He just hoped the manager wouldn’t charge them extra for stinking up the room.

 

The black-haired woman hung up the phone and sighed as she looked at her brother-in-law.  “Boss says he’ll be here soon, and that he hopes everything will be done by the time he gets here.”

 

Eric nodded his head understandingly.  “You ready to do this?”

 

Marie sighed deeply as she looked over at the small circle that held the ingredients she needed.  He knew she wasn’t as powerful a witch as her sister had been, but she still had more than most.

 

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” she said with a slight shrug.  “I just wish, you know, that it was Katie doing this instead of me.”

 

“Hey,” he said taking her by the shoulders and giving her a smile.  “You’ll do great.  Just remember what she taught you and there’s nothing that she’ll be able to do about it.  Everything will be great.  I promise.”

 

“I hope you’re right,” Marie said solemnly.  The young witch drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly before saying, “Boss wants you to meet him at some club in town.  The Bronze, I think.  He said that it would be closed tonight, so no one should be around.  You go, and I’ll do the spell.”

 

“You sure you can do this without any of my help?” he asked, raising his eyebrow slightly.

 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.  Just promise me when this is over, we’re going to take a nice, long vacation with no demons or vampires or slayers within a hundred mile radius.”

 

He laughed lightly at her.  “Deal.”  Eric took her hands into his, then gave her a small peck on the cheek.  “I’ll be back in couple of hours.  Keep an eye on Van.”

 

“Don’t I always?” she asked with a smirk that he returned.

 

He then let go of her hands, grabbed his coat off the twin bed, and headed back into the still, wet night.

 

**********

 

“Got him,” Willow exclaimed happily with a large smile. She turned in her seat to face the group that stood behind her and Tara.  “Looks like he’s heading for the Bronze.”

 

“The Bronze?” Buffy repeated with a raised eyebrow.  “I thought they were renovating that place until after New Years.”

 

“They are,” Xander agreed.  “We got the contract the other day.  It’s going be closed until at least the tenth.”

 

“Well, someone didn’t tell him that,” Willow said with a shrug.  “He’s making a straight line for it.”

 

“Who cares why he’s goin’ there,” Spike groaned.  “Let’s just go kill him and be done with it.”

 

Buffy glared at him for his choice of words.  They were not there to kill anyone, not yet anyway.  First things first, they needed to know what this guy was up to, then they would decide if he needed to be slayed.

 

“Well, who’s all going on this little mission,” Cordy asked.  “I mean, I would think that less is best for the whole stealthy thing.”

 

“Agreed,” Angel said, nodding his head.  “Me and Connor can go check him out, see what he’s up too.”

 

“How about not,” Buffy bit back, as if he were insane.  “I think it goes more like Angel, Connor, and Buffy need to go check it out.”

 

“Don’t forget me, love,” Spike put in.  “If this really is the guy you and the poppet have been dreamin’ about, I’m sure as hell goin’ with you.”

 

“We don’t need you,” Angel sneered coldly at his grandchilde.

 

The bleach blonde returned with his trademark smirk.  “Don’t matter, Peaches.  Where the slayer goes, I go.”

 

Angel’s eyes narrowed on the younger vampire, and Buffy quickly moved herself between them to keep a fight from breaking out.  God, how did they ever get along with each other for twenty years when they can’t even do it now for twenty minutes?  And they both have souls for heaven sakes!

 

“Okay, we’re all going out,” she agreed, looking between the two to make sure that the other would be coming and to leave it at that.  The slayer then turned back to Dawn.  “Could you take Dylan home?  I’d feel better if she was with Mom.”

 

“Sure,” the teen agreed, taking her niece from her sister.

 

“I’ll go with her,” Willow volunteered.  “You know, in case Magic Girl shows up or something.”

 

Buffy smiled her thanks to the witch, then turned back to the rest of the group.  “The rest of you keep up the research until we get back.”

 

**********

 

The back alley of the Bronze, now there was a familiar place. 

 

This had been the place where he had first officially met her all those years ago, when she was still an innocent girl and he was revered, respected, and feared even by those in the vampire community.  That had been the night he had wanted her, but not in the same way he does now.  He wanted her blood on his hands, to taste her life drain away between his lips.  Now, five years later, he was hiding once again in the shadows of the alley, but this time it was to try and save her life instead of taking it away.

 

She hid there in the shadows with him on this night, crouching down low behind a pile of old wooden boxes, watching and waiting for this mysterious figure to arrive.  Peaches had taken point outside the alley, using all the knowledge he had gained from living on the streets like a rat for ninety years to blend in with his surroundings.  As for Peaches Junior, Spike wasn’t quite sure where the boy had disappeared to, but had taken their only firing weapon, a crossbow, with him. 

 

So that left him and her here, watching and waiting alone in the cold December night.  Her hair was still slightly damp from the shower that they had been caught in earlier, but the clothes that she had changed back into were nearly completely dry, except for those tight little pair of jeans of hers.  Not that he minded getting a good look at the denim material shaping itself to her body.  No, he really enjoyed that actually.

 

“Would you stop looking at me like that,” she said in a loud whisper, her eyes still locked on the alley entrance.

 

“Like what, pet?” he grinned, sounding as innocent as possible, to force her to explain.

 

Buffy turned her gaze to him.  “Like I’m some villager that you want to ravage.”

 

Spike couldn’t help but chuckle at her.  “Aleady did that tonight, remember, love.  Course, if you fancy another go…”

 

She made a show of rolling her eyes at him, which just caused him to laugh even harder.  “You’re such a pig,” the blonde said, turning her gaze back towards the entrance way.

 

As the cold night became silent again, his mirth began to die as he continued to watch her.  He had expected her to say a bit more on the subject then ‘You’re such a pig.’  After all, it wasn’t ever day one gets to sleep with the person they love, that wasn’t spell induced.

 

“Buffy,” he said more softly and seriously, causing the slayer to look back over to him from the tone.  “We do need to talk about what happened tonight.”

 

“Yeah, I know.  We need to talk about a lot of things,” she agreed.  “Kind of want to catch this Eric guy first, though.”

 

An older model Taurus headlights cut through the dark as the car pulled into a parking space out front.  Both the slayer and vampire straightened up a bit, ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. 

 

“Looks like you’re goin’ to get your wish,” Spike said, eyeing the blond-haired man who got out of the car.

 

The young man wasn’t the type of person who stood out in a crowd; much like Spike had always prided himself on doing.  No, this guy would blend into the background and was never the one that would be questioned for any sort of evil activity.  In fact, he looked more like the guy who lived down the street and would let you borrow his lawn mower or invite you over for a Sunday afternoon barbeque nothing like a predator.  But those were the type that always made the best hunters; the best and most dangerous.

 

He came around to the front of his car, looked around for a moment, then sighed before sitting on the hood.  Nervously, he rubbed his hands together as he continued to apparently wait for someone.  The guy would scream easy meal to any vamp, and Spike couldn’t help but wonder why they were all getting so worked up over him.

 

Buffy glanced over to the vampire at her side and nodded.  He took the signal, and, while she went up one side of the alley through the shadows, he took the other.  Spike crept halfway up through the dark alley when the man on the Taurus suddenly straightened up, and his body became ridged.  He was aware that there was someone else there and slowly began to scan his surroundings for the hidden party.  The man scanned right over where the slayer would have been and slowly came towards Spike, who had pressed himself as far as he could into the shadows.  But that was not enough, for the man’s eyes stopped dead on him.

 

Crap.

 

Spike watched as the man scurried to get off the hood of his car before running into Peaches, who had snuck up behind him and placed himself to where he couldn’t inside the car.  The young man’s eyes widened in surprise as the older vampire crossed his arms and said, “Going somewhere?”

 

He vamped out for good measure, causing the boy in front of him to jump back a little.  Still got the touch, Spike saw.

 

The blond-haired man turned to run the other way, only to find Spike standing there, also in game face.  Quickly, the younger vampire seized the man by the throat, and slammed him onto the hood of his car.  Buffy jogged up to stand beside him, all the while the guy struggled in Spike’s grip.  Connor made his presence known as well, coming out from a nearby shadowy area, the crossbow still raised up in case he needed to use it.

 

“Who are you?” Spike hissed.

 

“I-“

 

“Who?!”

 

“Eric!” he cried out.  “Eric Davidson.”

 

“Who sent you?” Buffy demanded.

 

“I did,” a new voice answered.

 

The slayer spun on her feet, recognizing the voice.  Her mouth hung slightly opened as she fixed her gaze on her old friend and fellow Scooby.

 

“Oz?”

 

---

 

Part 6: Lying with the Lion

 

The tea kettle screamed as the hot steam was pushed through the small opening, telling Joyce that it was ready.  Quickly, she fixed the three cups of tea to each of the person’s liking; she had learned long ago how each of the Scoobies took their tea.  Dawn would want two lumps of sugar, while Willow, like Joyce herself, would want just a tab of honey.  When they were prepared, she picked the tray up and headed back into the living room where the girls were waiting.

 

Dylan was asleep in her play pen, her little arm draped over her stuffed dog while her mouth hung open.  She looked a lot like Buffy had at that age, and Joyce had to shake the feeling of déjà vu she got from the sight.

 

In the few minutes that Joyce had been gone, Dawn had spread out on the couch and had also fallen asleep.  Her mother shook her head as she set the tray on the coffee table, and handed the steaming cup to the witch who looked as if she were fighting sleep off as well.

 

“Thank you,” she said, savoring the smell of the liquid before consuming it. The red head seemed to perk up from the beverage.

 

“So, were you able to find out what’s going on?” Joyce asked, taking her seat with her own drink.

 

“Not much,” Willow shrugged.  “Hopefully Buffy and the others will come back with more information.”

 

From the play pen, Dylan began to whimper in her sleep and cuddle close to her stuffed animal.  Her grandmother knew another one of those bad dreams was attacking the child, so Joyce placed her cup of tea on the coffee table and bent over to try and sooth the child with her touch.

 

“What’s the matter with her?” Willow asked cautiously as she watched the two.

 

“A bad dream, I think,” the middle-aged woman answered, the child not calming any.  When she still had no luck in calming her, Joyce sighed.  She couldn’t wait until Buffy and Spike got back, Dylan always calmed for them.  Dylan looked as if she were about to start crying, and Joyce ran her hand over the side of her head.  “Shhh, baby.  It’ll be okay.  I promise.”

 

**********

 

Buffy backed away from the car and unconsciously moved closer to her old friend. She couldn’t believe it.  Oz?  Oz was the one that sent this Eric guy after them?  But Oz wouldn’t ever hurt them, not intentionally.  That was about like believing Xander or Willow would.  But, still…

 

“Oz?” the slayer asked, her voice sounding horse.

 

The fellow Scooby came closer to the group around the car.  Spike’s grip on Eric loosened from his surprise of seeing ‘Red’s mongrel’ being the one behind all this distracting him from the young man he held.  Eric scrambled away from the vampire, choosing instead to head over in Oz’s direction for a small sense of safety.  At the same time, Connor gripped a little tighter on the crossbow, but Angel held up his hand to tell him it was all right.

 

“Sorry about all the sneakiness,” the werewolf apologized, digging his hands a little deeper into his pockets.  “But we couldn’t let ourselves be seen.”

 

“Oz, what’s going on?  Why are you here?  Why is he here?” Buffy asked, eyeing the blond-haired man that stood nearby before turning her attention back to her old friend.

 

The red-headed young man sighed deeply before telling her, “There’s something bad in your group, Buffy.  A demon.”

 

“We know we got demons, Wolf Boy,” Spike snarled.  “Me and Peaches here are two of ‘em.”

 

“Not that kind of demon,” Oz answered with a shake of his head.  “This one’s a lot sneakier than you two can ever hope to be.”

 

Buffy swallowed hard.  This cannot be good.  Oz was the quiet contemplator of the group.  Yet, in the past five minutes, he had said more then he had in the whole two and half years that Buffy knew him.  If Oz is chatty, then it must really be bad.

 

Eric looked to his ‘boss’ before taking up the story himself. 

 

“See, this demon is an infection, a parasite.  It feeds off negative emotion, so it creates as much as possible in the host. It is, however, extremely intelligent, and knows when it’s in danger.  That’s why we had to be so covert with you.  I am sorry about that.  But if it knew we were trying to kill it, it would have done something rather rash.”  He sighed deeply.  “The thing is the person infected doesn’t even know it.  And, once we’re able to get rid of it, she won’t remember what happened.”

 

“She?” Angel caught.

 

Oz pressed his lips together, forming a hard straight line.  “Buffy, these parasite demons only live in one place, the Shadow World.”

 

The slayer blinked once, then took off for home.

 

**********

 

“Or, maybe she’s afraid,” Willow offered approaching the woman and child.

 

“Afraid of what, dear?”

 

Joyce felt some invisible force wrap its arms around her before throwing her across the room.  She crashed hard into the bookshelf, with all the trinkets and pictures and books falling onto her limp body on the floor.

 

She was barely holding onto consciousness when she head Willow say coldly, “Me.”

 

Forcing herself to stay awake, Joyce watched as Willow walked over to the pen, picked the child up, and said, “Come to your Auntie Willow.”

 

**********

 

Buffy’s legs pumped feverishly under her body as she tore towards her home, Spike, Angel and Connor right on her heels.  How could she have been so stupid?!  She knew something was up with Willow. They all did. But it was Willow!  Her best friend would never hurt them.  Would she?

 

Sharp pains jabbed at Buffy’s legs as she rounded the corner and head up her street.  She hadn’t run this fast since she went to catch Riley, and that had turned out so well.  No.  She wouldn’t let herself think that.  Oz had to be wrong.  Willow would never hurt them.  He just had to be wrong!

 

The slayer charged up the front stair and burst through the door, nearly tearing it from its hinges.  The house felt charged as she skidded to a stop in the living room doorway and saw her sister fast asleep on the couch.  Maybe they had been wrong after all.

 

“Dawn?” she called in a small voice.

 

A small moan answered her, but it had not come from her sister.  Buffy jerked her head towards its origin, and gasped when she saw her mother lying on the floor, the old bookshelf broken and lying on top of her.  The two vampires came to a halt behind her, surveyed the damage, then Angel pushed passed her to see if her mother was alright.  Funny, Buffy felt like her feet were glued to the ground as she watched him check Joyce over.

 

He looked up at the slayer, and said, “She’s alive.”

 

“Niblet’s okay,” Spike said, kneeling next to her sister.  When had he moved from Buffy’s side?  “Just can’t wake her up.”

 

The slayer blinked as she looked at the two.  There was someone else she needed to check on, someone that the stress was somehow making her forget about.  There’s Dawn, on the couch, Spike kneeling beside her, next to an empty play pen.  Dylan’s play pen.  Oh, God-

 

“Dylan,” Buffy squeaked out before turning around and charging up the stairs for her room.  If she wasn’t downstairs with her mother, then they must have put her to bed already.  She wasn’t gone, she had to be here.  She just had to be!

 

A soft sound greeted Buffy at the top of the stairs.  It floated into the hallway from her opened bedroom door.  Someone was humming gently from inside.  Slowly, she went to the door and pushed it open.  There was no one inside, but the humming continued from the crib.

 

Time seemed to slow down as she wandered towards the sound, praying that perhaps she would look over and find her daughter sitting there.  Praying that, maybe, right before she looked over, she’d wake up and find this whole night had been a nightmare.  Instead, she found the baby monitor was lying gently on Dylan’s pillow, making the noise.  Buffy didn’t know why, but she found herself reaching over and picking the monitor up, her fingers turning white as she clung onto it.

 

“Wow, Buffy,” Willow said when the pretty song she had been humming stopped.  “She really is a cutie.  But, then, I guess with you as her Mommy and Spike as her Daddy that should be expected.  She’s going to break a lot of hearts someday.  Or she will, if you do as I say.  And you might as well not look for me, Spike.  I can see you, but you can’t see me.”

 

Buffy turned and saw the bleach blond was standing there in the door way, his eyes looking past her into the darkness outside.  She hadn’t even heard him come up.

 

“I want the Key, Buffy,” Willow continued, her voice having become harder than she had ever heard it before.  “You have it. I want it.  Just give a shout when you’re ready.  I’ll be listening.”

 

A faint murmuring came over the monitor.  “Looks like my sleeping spell doesn’t last as long on her as it will the others.  All well, maybe a song will keep her quiet.

 

“Hush little baby, don’t you cry,

Buffy can make it all alright.

But if your mommy keeps the Key,

We’re going to see what’s inside of thee.”

 

Spike snatched the monitor out of Buffy’s grip and smashed it into a million pieces on the floor. 

The Key?  She wants the Key?  She wants to trade Dylan for Dawn?!

 

The air around her was fast becoming thin, and those heavy legs that had been plaguing her all night suddenly felt like they were becoming jello.  Her body began to collapse to the floor when she felt Spike catch her and pull her up to him.

 

“We’ll get her back, love,” he told her.  “I swear we will.”

 

She just wished she could believe him.

 

---

 

Part 7: Close to Home

 

Giles sat at the table, cup of coffee in one hand and a large book in the other.  The others had gradually drifted off to sleep, leaving him alone to do the research and wait for Buffy and the others to return.  He had tried on several occasions to rouse them, but all seemed to be in a rather deep sleep.  Must have been exhaustion; he knew he had been feeling the initial effects of it earlier in the evening.  Less than an hour ago, he could hardly keep his eyes opened, but a strong cup of coffee had cured that and now he felt refreshed and ready to go.  Amazing what a little caffeine will do.

 

Well, at least he didn’t have to listen to Xander and Cordelia bicker any more. 

 

Anya, who had fallen asleep curled up in one of the chairs, snorted loudly as she shifted her body, causing a small pad she had been writing on to fall to the ground.  Giles smiled wearily at the girl.  She really could be cute, when she wasn’t awake anyway.  He placed the book he was reading on the counter next to his coffee, and went to retrieve the item that Anya had lost in her sleep.

 

“Will that be cash or charge?” the ex-vengeance demon murmured in her sleep as the Watcher bent down and picked up the pad.  Even in her sleep, the girl was trying to sell something.  That just confirmed that he had hired the right person to work in his shop, not that he’d ever had any doubt.

 

Giles scanned over the paper and found that the young woman had been compiling a list of all the items that Tara and Willow had used that night, along with the prices at the side.  Indeed, he hadn’t realized that the two witches had accumulated such a large total in debt.  Perhaps he should listen to Anya and rethink the whole ‘not charging of his friends’ concept.

 

Why, the ingredients alone to the potion that gave them their voices back had cost him well over two hundred dollars.  They had used two bags of teal wing, half a jar of Hattiesburg deer root, a bottle of black water mist, a teaspoon of yellow quartet dust-Wait a minute.  Black water mist?

 

“That can’t be right,” Giles said to himself as he headed to the shelf where he kept it.

 

He inspected the shelf where the bottle was located and indeed found it to be missing.  That was odd.  Black water mist was used for nothing else except for a new age sleeping agent.  It was very effective, usually giving the person a full eight hours of sleep if taken correctly.  The only down side to it was that just the littlest bit of caffeine would counter act the effect.  So, why on earth would Willow and Tara need it?

 

A juvenile giggle tore him from his thoughts.  “No, Ahn.  You play the naughty bank teller this time,” Xander muttered as he smiled in his sleep.

 

Giles’ eyes widened as he looked around the room.  They were all asleep except for him.  Anya, Cordelia, Jessie, Xander, Tara.  If Tara’s asleep, that means she must have not known the water was in the potion, which meant…

 

“Oh, dear Lord.  Willow,” he said to himself as he hurried over to the phone. 

 

He jerked up the phone and found the line was dead, confirming his suspicions even more.  A wolf in sheep’s clothing.  He had to warn Joyce!  He had to find Buffy!!  Grabbing his coat off the rack, Giles headed into the rainy night, praying it was not too late.

 

**********

 

Angel and Connor looked up when they heard someone charging down the stairs.  Spike looked as if he were ready to kill the next person he saw as he headed out the door and into the night.  Angel had guessed what Willow had done, and, by the way his grandchilde stalked out of there, he figured he had been right.

 

“Shit,” the elder vampire muttered, getting up off the floor next to Joyce, leaving her with a confused Connor.  Angel was barely out the door when he yelled, “Spike! Wait!”

 

“Go away, Peaches,” the bleach blond warned in a dangerous tone as he stormed across the lawn.  “I don’t have time to deal with you right now.”

 

Angel ran after him and grabbed him by the shoulder.  “I said stop!”

 

He expected the punch and the growl that came with it.  Angel took the hit, then came back around in full game face with his own punch.  Before he knew it, the two Master vampires were on the ground, trying their best to beat each other to a pulp.  Probably to some of the Summers’ more curious neighbors, they looked like a pair of school-age boys engaged in a fist fight over some girl.  He just hoped that none of them called the cops.

 

Angel managed to get on top of his grandchile, and hit him hard across the face.

 

“For once in your life, listen to me, William,” he bit through his clutched teeth.  The use of his given name seemed to stop the younger vampire momentarily, but Angel could clearly see the heat behind his yellow eyes.  “Going off half cocked isn’t going to help anyone.”  Spike struggled to get up, but his grandsire slammed him back to the ground.  “It won’t!  Trust me.  I know.”

 

“You know,” Spike sneered.  “What you did finally got you Connor back!”

 

“No.  Not Connor.  It got me Steven.”  Angel slipped out of his game face and stood up, letting the younger vampire up.  Spike’s demonic features also melted away before the older vampire continued, “I love my son, I really do, and when he was taken I tried to do the exact same thing you are.  But you can’t go off and face her alone.”

 

“Why the bloody hell not?!”

 

“Because you and I both know how powerful Willow really is!  And that…thing inside of her has control over it.  Do you really think that she’ll even bat an eye if it came to killing you?  To killing Dylan because of you?”  His voice became low.  “I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, William.  Not even you, and especially not Buffy!  But you know if you go after Willow right now she would kill you, both of you!  Is that what you want?!”

 

He watched as Spike’s body became tight from anger.  “I have to do something, Angel!”

 

The older vampire drew in an unneeded breath.  He knew exactly how Spike felt and suddenly felt himself identifying with poor Lorne that night he had tried to get Connor back.  There was nothing he could say that would stop the father in his quest, except maybe…

 

Angel bit down on his tongue as he forced himself to say, “Then go be with Buffy.”

 

Spike blinked at that.  “What?”

 

“Look, she lost her daughter tonight, too.  Since you’re the…father, she’s going to need you to be there for her.”

 

The bleached blond growled lowly to himself, knowing that Angel had found the one thing that would make him stay put for the time being.  “So, what are we supposed to do?  Sit back and wait for Red to show up again?”

 

“No. We get the others and come up with a plan,” Angel told him.  He turned and headed back into the house.  “Until then, I suggest you go be with the mother of your child.”

 

**********

 

Marie sat Indian style in the middle of the circle, the tiny black pot in front of her smoking as she prepared to perform the spell.  In just a few more minutes, the witches’ powers would be bound, and then maybe she could get a much deserved rest from all this.  She flipped the old book a couple of pages, and began to read and follow the instructions.

 

“Child from light, cannot be dead.

The darkness within, has been fed.”

 

The black-haired woman took the maple root, crumbled it up, and let it fall slowly into the smoking pot.

 

“Her spirit is strong, her flesh is weak.

A demon control, through her it does speak.”

 

The pot gave out a large pillar of smoke as she reached over and picked up the small clump of red hair Eric had collected for her.  She held it over the pot, and readied to drop it after she spoke the last of the spell.

 

“Bind her magic, so she may do no harm,

So that the demon cannot be-“

 

The door to her hotel room slammed open, causing Marie to stumble back from surprise.  Her hand smeared the circle as she backed away, ruining the spell.  The figure was floating at least a foot off the ground, the tips of her toes barely dragging the ground. She came inside.

 

“Nu uh,” Willow said in a singy type voice.  “Little girls shouldn’t be playing with magic like that.”

 

Marie gave a panicked looked towards the door that separated her room from Eric and Van’s, praying that the little boy didn’t come to see what was happening.  The black-haired woman scrambled to her feet only to be knocked back hard against the wall by an invisible force.  The sheetrock cracked from the impact as she slid down to the ground, groaning in pain.

 

“Did you really think you could get rid of me so easily?” Willow asked, lowering herself to the ground, then slowly walking towards the woman.  “That you could simply chant a few words and *poof* I’d be gone?  You gypsies really are stupid, you know that right?”

 

The shorter red head reached down and lifted the woman up off the floor by her collar, holding her up a little higher than her head so Willow had to look up at her.  Willow cocked her head to the side as she studied the woman she held.  “You know, you really are a pretty thing.”

 

Marie’s eyes flared.  “Abi!”

 

The more powerful witch flew back, dropping Marie back to the ground.  She moaned in pain from the contact as Willow began to chuckle, pushing herself away from the wall she had crashed into and wiping away the blood that trickled down from the side of her mouth.  “Oh, looks like puppy wants to play.”

 

Marie scrambled for the still opened door in hopes of fleeing, but the plywood slammed shut in her face.

 

“Uh huh,” Willow said.  “Puppy needs to know who her mistress is.”

 

The red head shot her attention to the mirror above the dresser, shattering it with a thought.  But the broken pieces didn’t fall to the ground.  Instead, the larger ones flew across the room at the black-haired girl standing at the door.  She did her best to dodge them, but one very large piece cut straight through the palm of her hand, nailing it to the wall.

 

Marie yelped in pain as several other shards cut her, but she mainly concentrated on the one that held her in place.  Her other trembling hand reached up to try and pull it out of the wall, but just touching the bloody reflecting glass sent pain through her.  She was crying softly to herself when she heard the other woman walking towards her.

 

Willow bent down and picked up a long sliver of the mirror, playing with its sharp edges with the tip of her finger.  Slowly, she lifted her now black eyes up to the young gypsy, an insane little smile playing on her lips.

 

“Now, puppy, let’s play.”

 

---

 

Part 8: Shattered

 

Oz glanced over at Eric as he ran a stop sign, nearly sideswiping another car.  There was something wrong that night; you could smell death.  Even if the Hellmouth always stunk of it, there seemed to be even more this night.  The closer they came to the hotel, the more powerful the stench became.

 

Oz should have known better than to pull his friend into this, but he hadn’t known what else to do at the time.  All he knew was that some person had sent him an anonymous e-mail with a detailed file by some Dr. Lang on Buffy and Spike and what she had done to them.  At the very end of the message had been a warning about Willow and the parasite demon, though how this person knew about it he didn’t know.

 

At the time, he had been in Tibet, and had planned on setting out for the States right then and there when he found out there was a spell that could make Willow Willow again.  If done right, that spell would bind Willow’s magic.  Without the supernatural element, the parasite demon would have died.  But a freak snow storm had trapped him, so Oz had called a friend that he had once ran with, Eric.  

 

Eric was like Oz, a werewolf, but he also knew how to control the beast within.  He had met him shortly after leaving Sunnydale in his journey to find himself. Eric had been at a bar that Oz was playing at, asked if he could sit in for a session, and the two had been friends since then.

 

Oz knew that Eric’s wife, Katie, had been a powerful gypsy witch when she was alive and had taught her sister, Marie, everything she knew.  All it took was a simple phone call, and the two had set out in Oz’s place, even allowing him to call the shots with every move they made.  It was his decision not to tell the others what was happening; but it would have been too dangerous.  He regretted that now. 

 

When Oz had finally made it to Sunnydale that night, they were going to do the spell then he was going to try and explain to the others about the deceit.  Now everything had been shot to hell and he was just trying to stop the woman he loved from hurting someone, or worse.

 

The Taurus came to a screeching halt in front of the old hotel.  It looked still as the vacancy sign flashed, which gave him a chill.  This whole scene reminded him a little too much of that Hitchcock classic.  All that was missing was Norman Bates in drag.  Eric ignored it, jumped out of the car, and started to call for his sister-in-law.

 

“Marie!” the young man yelled as he grabbed the door handle.  It was locked.  He jerked on it a few times, banged on the door, and called again, “Marie!  Open up!”

 

When still no answer came, Eric looked over at Oz, took a step back, and kicked the door open.  The old plywood gave easily enough, but something was still blocking their way.  Both men pushed on the broken door to let themselves in.  Oz paled at what was on the other side of the door.

 

Marie’s body was slumped against the plywood, her eyes glazed and staring off into nothingness, as trickles of blood dripped from the ends of her mouth and from the many cuts on her face and body.  Her left arm was raised above her, a sharp piece of glass jammed through it to keep it in place.  But those injuries hadn’t killed her.  The prefect gash across her throat had.

 

Oz turned away from the sight, but the image would be forever burned in his mind.  The air was thick with her blood, calling to the wolf inside of him.  He wouldn’t let it out.  He couldn’t let it out.

 

Something written on the pale, brown wall caught his eye.  Willow had left it, a message in Marie’s blood.  ‘Bring Me The Key!’

 

“Oh, God,” Eric said, snapping out of his shock.  “Van.”

 

The blond-haired man charged through the adjoining doors into his own dark room with Oz close behind.  Unlike Marie’s room that was full of violence, this one sat perfectly still, except for a very small, balled up figure in the corner.

 

“Daddy?” it said in a small, frightened voice.

 

Eric flew to it and grabbed his son into his arms.

 

“I was scared,” the child whimpered.  “I wanted to be brave, but I was scared and hid.”

 

“It’s okay,” Eric soothed.  “You did the right thing by hiding.”

 

The tips of Oz’s lips turned down.  He couldn’t imagine what Will-that thing would have done had it know about the kid in the next room.  God, she must have known about them being here the whole time and was using them as a distraction for the others!  How could he have been so stupid?!

 

Van pulled away from his father, his eyes sparkling from his tears.  “Did Re go to be with Mommy?”

 

The father sighed at his son, rubbing the side of his head like Marie always had.  “Yeah, big guy.  Marie went to go be with Mommy in heaven.”

 

“But I don’t want her to go,” he cried. 

 

“I know,” he told his son.  “I didn’t want her to leave either.”  Eric pulled his son close again and gave Oz a look.  He wasn’t in this any longer to help out a friend.  He wanted revenge now. 

 

**********

 

Spike sat on the coffee table in front of the slayer, doing his best to try and keep her from slipping into whatever fantasy world that was beckoning her to come.  He couldn’t let her, she needed to be here to help find Dylan.  But even if that were true, and they both knew it, it didn’t mean that the world wasn’t inviting and that she didn’t want to go to it.

 

Good Lord, he was no good at being the level-headed one, but he had to be right now; no matter how much his demon screamed to go out there, find Red, and tear her apart to get Dylan back.  But right now, he had to keep Buffy here, with him.  He would listen to his demon later.

 

Spike watched as Buffy’s eyes began to glaze over, then spat her as harshly as possible, “Slayer!”

 

She blinked at him, but still had that blank look about her.  Her mind hadn’t even picked up that the word had sounded mean as he intended.  So much for a reaction like he had hoped for.

 

Spike moved closer to her, took her hands into his, and held them up between them.  “Listen to me,” he said, forcing her to keep eye contact with him.  “We’ll find her, but you have to stay with me here.  You hear me, love?”

 

She slowly jerked her head up and down to show she did understand, but he had to wonder as she looked away.  “Come on, Slayer.  I need you to snap out of it.”

 

Connor had trailed in a while ago and made camp down at the end of the couch next to Dawn who was still sound asleep.  Willow had said something about having put a sleeping spell on them; and, after trying to wake the girl by bribes of large sums of money and telling her that her favorite band Creed was outside, Spike fully believed it.  She must have slipped it into that potion she and Glenda were cooking up earlier.

 

Angel came downstairs having deposited the still injured Joyce in her room after making sure she would be alright.

 

“How is she?” Connor asked lowly as his father joined them in the living room.

 

“She should be fine. I don’t think she broke anything, but Joyce will be sore in the morning.”

 

Spike’s grandsire gave a sad look towards the parents who had lost their child, then looked over at Connor.  Almost felt like he was failing at this all over again, only it wasn’t his child this time; it was Buffy’s.

 

“How’s she doing?” he asked Spike, nudging his head towards Buffy.

 

“Barely hangin’ in there,” he sighed.  “Have you got a hold of Rupert or the others yet?”

 

“No.  Whatever she did to Dawn, she must have done to them too.  Or she met up with them later and did something worse.”

 

“Worse?” Connor echoed, not understanding.  Angel looked over at his son and raised an eyebrow, and the boy seemed to suddenly understand.

 

“We need to get back to the shop,” Angel told them.  “If they are okay, we’ll need the others’ help.”

 

“It won’t do you any good,” a new voice told him.  Spike looked up from the dazed woman in front of him to find Giles coming in through the front door.  The Watcher came to a dead stop when he saw Buffy.  “Good Lord, what happened?”

 

“Willow,” Angel said in a low voice.

 

“Oh, dear,” he said paling.  “I had hoped I would be wrong.”

 

“What?  You knew something was up with Red?” Spike asked, his anger flashing through his eyes.  If the Watcher knew and didn’t tell them, so help him-

 

“No,” Giles replied, shaking his head.  “I didn’t suspect until I found she had put black water mist into the potion earlier this evening.”

 

“Black water mist?” Angel repeated.  “Isn’t that the stuff that makes you sleep like a rock?”

 

“Yes.  When I started to feel the effects, I mistook it for pure exhaustion and drank coffee. The caffeine counter acted the spell.”  The Watcher turned his eyes to the young boy at the end of the couch.  “Connor, run into the kitchen and get a Coke or some tea or anything with caffeine in it and give it to Dawn.  It should wake her up.”

 

Nodding his head, the kid disappeared into the kitchen and left the adults to talk.

 

“So, what do we do?” Angel asked like some sort of child looking for answers.  None of them even had to ask about what, or who.

 

“That depends,” Rupert sighed.  “What does she want?”

 

“The Key,” Buffy answered her voice barely above a whisper.  Spike looked back at the young woman; her eyes were still empty and haunted as she slowly shifted to face Giles.  “She wants to trade Dylan for the Key.”

 

Giles blinked and drew in a deep breath.  “Oh, dear Lord.”

 

Wait a minute.  Rupes knew what this ‘Key’ thing was?  She told the Watcher but she couldn’t tell him?  Maybe they hadn’t come as far as he had thought.

 

“Wait,” Angel spoke up.  “What key?”

 

A sharp hacking sound diverted their attention away from the subject for a moment, as Dawn began to cough furiously from having a Coke poured down her throat.  Funny, he hadn’t even felt the younger version of Peaches come back in.  The Niblet rolled on her side, trying to cough up the soda he had forced her to take in, then sat up on the couch in a groggy state.

 

“What’s going on?  Where’s Mom?”

 

Spike heard Buffy’s breath hitch as she looked at her sister before she leapt out of her seat and took off up the stairs.

 

Dawn blinked from the couch, confused as the others.  “What?  What did I say?”

 

**********

 

Willow sat perched on the edge of the desk, regarding the child before with quite a bit of curiosity.  All of this for her?  How strange.  There didn’t seem to be anything special about her, besides the fact that she wasn’t supposed to exist.  She had never seen the child do anything extraordinary, except maybe for the fact that she was already able to shock Xander and Giles into complete silence from time to time by repeating things she heard her father say.  Other than that, she seemed just like Jessie.

 

But Willow hadn’t been freed from that damned dimension to take Xander’s daughter.  No, once more it involved Buffy and her family.  Willow felt the anger start to build in her.  It was always about Buffy, everything was.  Buffy knows what’s best, Buffy will be able to defeat it, Buffy stopped the apocalypse.  Buffy, Buffy, Buffy.  It’s always about Buffy.

 

Well, Buffy had left a mess when she ran off with the bleached blonde Billy Idol wannabe, and left poor Willow to clean it up.   What did Willow get in return?  A one way ticket to a place without light, without love, without hope.  She had her life taken away, and for what?  So Buffy could live hers and have the bastard child of a demon.  Typical.

 

That’s not fair, a voice from somewhere in the back of her mind whispered.  It wasn’t Buffy’s fault.

 

Willow shook her head.  Of course it was Buffy’s fault.  It’s always Buffy’s fault.  It was Buffy’s fault that Angel lost his soul. It was Buffy’s fault that Ms. Calendar died. It was Buffy’s fault Faith turned evil. It was Buffy’s fault that Willow got bit by Harmony because she didn’t save her at graduation. It was Buffy’s fault they were nearly killed that night in the house with Riley. It was Buffy’s fault that Adam was released. It was Buffy’s fault that Riley didn’t stay and she got taken that night. It was Buffy’s fault that Willow got sucked into hell with Glory.  It. Was. Buffy’s. Fault!

 

Willow pushed herself off the desk and walked over to the pen that held Dylan.  The toddler was standing up, looking around the strange new surroundings, trying to determine if she should be scared or not.  The witch grinned at her.  Yes, she had a lot to be afraid of.

 

The cell phone rang, turning her attention away from the little blonde-haired girl.  Right on time, as usual.

 

Willow casually walked over to where she had left the little black flip phone, and lifted it to her ear.  “Good evening, Mr. Travers.”

 

“Ah, Ms. Rosenberg,” the proper British man said on the other end.  “I take it everything has gone well?”

 

“I had a slight problem with some nosy werewolf and his little girlfriend,” she sneered.  “So, I had a little fun.”

 

“It’s taken care of then?  Excellent.  So, you have the child?”

 

Dylan watched Willow intensely, as if she were able to hear what the two were talking about.  That just made the witch’s evil smile grow.  “Yes, I have her.  As a matter of fact, she’s looking at me right now.”

 

She could almost see Travers smiling like the cat that ate the canary on the other end of the line.

 

“She’s a cutie, Mr. Travers,” Willow told him, walking back over to the pen and bending down in front of the baby.  “Too bad you’ll never get to see her.”

 

Travers’ breath caught on the other end.  “What?!  What are you talking about?!  You will bring her to ME!”

 

Willow laughed softly.  “And, Mr. Travers, why would I do that?”

 

“Because we had a deal,” he hissed.

 

“I’m changing our arrangement,” she told him.

 

“Why, you double crossing little bitch!  I’m going to send you straight back to hell where I found you!!”

 

The red head laughed at him again as she stood.  “Calm down, Quentin.  You’ll give yourself a stroke.”

 

Willow began to focus in on her mental picture of Travers.  He would be standing there, in his office, clutching the phone tightly in his hands until his knuckles were white as sheets.  His eyes would be blazing with anger, and she could see his nose flaring as his breathing becoming heavy with hate. 

 

She could feel his hate within her.  She could feel it making his chest tighten; she could feel the tightening move to the back of his head.  She was in his head, she could see what he saw.  Her mind began to clamp down in the back of his brain, blocking the flow.  The pain, the delicious pain.  Willow could see the flashes of light before his eyes that were becoming blinding.  The world was spinning, faster, harder.  He couldn’t stand anymore, and fell into the blackness with a groan.

 

Willow snapped her eyes opened, still holding the phone up to her ear.  “Have a nice life as a vegetable, Mr. Travers,” she said coldly, then clicked the phone off.

 

**********

 

Buffy stood at the crib in her room, staring down at that stuffed animal that Dylan always adorned whenever it was near.  A dog.  Her daughter had named her stuffed dog Willow.  God, she should have gotten a clue, but she didn’t want to hear what the child was telling her.  And now that she hadn’t, Dylan was gone, and it was her fault. 

 

The slayer felt him watching her from behind, but she dared not turn around to face him.  Instead of forcing her to look at him by saying something incredibly stupid like she expected, he stepped inside silently and pulled the door closed behind him.

 

“You want to tell me what this Key is, love?” Spike asked calmly.

 

But Buffy refused to say anything.  Please don’t do this to me, she thought, clutching the dog.  Please don’t make me choose.

 

“Give it to her,” he told her as if he she were some sort of small child who had just been told to give back a toy to another kid.  Buffy spun around on her heels and looked at him.  “Give her the Key.”

 

The slayer bit down on her lip and said weakly, “I can’t.”

 

“Well, do you have it?” he asked a bit more heated.  She nodded her head yes, lowering her eyes once again to the toy she held.  “Then give it to her,” he ordered.

 

“I told you,” Buffy said, turning back to the crib.  “I can’t.”

 

“Give her the soddin’ Key, Buffy,” Spike said as coldly as she had ever heard him.

 

“I can’t,” she bit back, her own pain and anger rising.

 

“Bloody hell, woman.  She has Dylan!  Give it to her!”

 

“I can’t.”

 

He grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around, and held her in front of him.  She had never seen him so angry, not even he was trying to kill her all those years ago. “What kind of mother are you?”

 

Breaking his grip on her, she punched him hard across the face.  “I can’t!!”

 

“Why the hell not?!”

 

“Because it’s Dawn!” she said before she even realized it. Silence passed between them as he stared at her.  It felt oddly better that he finally knew, though she didn’t know how it could help them now.  Buffy’s anger began to die as his shifted to surprise and shock.  She told him softly, “Dawn’s the Key.”

 

He blinked at her, his mind refusing to accept what she had said. “What?  No.  I’ve known the Bit since-“

 

“It’s not real,” she said sadly, shaking her head.  “Nothing before two years ago is.”

 

He shook his head as he tried to understand what she was telling him.  It had to be wrong.  “But I remember…”

 

Slowly, Buffy moved away from him and went to her bed.  She sat down and looked blankly at the floor as she told him what she remembered from before. Even now, after two years, the story felt strange to tell, but it was the truth.  How does the saying go?  Truth is stranger than fiction sometimes.  

 

“She was what Glory was after.  Why?  I don’t know.  All I know is that there were these monks, and they said that they needed to protect the Key from her.  So, they sent her to me, complete with memories for me and everyone we’ve ever met.  I don’t know what the Key does, but it must be something pretty powerful for them to go through all that trouble.” Buffy paused for a moment, and looked down at the animal she still held.  “She is my sister, Spike, my blood. They made her from me. She’s a part of me, just like Dylan.”  She looked over at him, unshed tears blurring her visions.  “How am I supposed to choose?  Tell me.  I want to know!  How do I choose?!”

 

He shook his head, looking every bit as confused and torn as her.  “I don’t know, love.”

 

Buffy felt herself begin to cry.  She hated that she couldn’t do anything.  She hated that she was against her best friend.  She hated that she felt like she should give Dawn over to Willow to save Dylan. She hated that no matter what she did, someone she loved was going to get hurt or die.

 

Spike sat down beside her, and pulled her to him, letting her cry into his shoulder. 

 

The two never heard the teenager that had come up the stairs to see what the shouting was about; they didn’t know that she had heard. But Dawn Summers now stood beside her sister’s door with her world effectively shattered.

 

---

 

To Be Continued

 

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