Title: Weathered

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Starts at the end of “Into the Woods”.  No, Riley doesn’t stay, but it does have the Watchers Council, an evil scientist, a globe trotting couple, and one really angry hell god.

Spoilers: A little of “Into the Woods”, but that’s about it.

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

AN: This is the first part of a series because the story is so long, so bare with me here.  And this is also a challenge respondents issued by Jinxanna/Blood Luvin Girl.  Let me know what you think of it.

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Weathered

 

 

Part 1: Farewell

 

She walked slowly back down the path that lead into town, the events of the night playing over and over in her mind.  If she had just been a minute-a minute!-sooner, she would be coming home with Riley.  Chances are they would be fighting about him almost leaving her, but at least he would be here, with her.

 

How could he leave her like that?  When her world was crumbling around her, he decided now is the best time to end their relationship?  How could he do this?  How could he lay this at her doorstep?  How could he make her feel so...alone?

 

The cool winter wind blew down on her, making her pull her jacket even tighter around her little body.

 

She was alone and would always be alone no matter what she did.  Slayers were destine to be alone.  Her father left her alone, Angel left her alone, Parker left her alone, and now Riley left her alone.  They all left her, so why even try for another time?

 

A scream interrupted Buffy’s thought.  Her body jerked around quickly at the sound, and, before she knew it, she was running to help.  This is just what she needed.  There was nothing like a good, old fashion slaying to get the anger out.

 

She came upon a demon that was now towering over a middle age woman that lay on the ground.  The dark green monster sounded as if he were chuckling to himself as he started to go after the woman in the power suit.

 

Buffy charged forward, wrapped her arms around the creatures waist, and through him to the side.  The thing rolled across the ground, then leapt to its feet to face her.  The creature began to sniff the air, and Buffy saw that it didn’t have any eyes.  That just made thing all the more easy.

 

When it caught her sent, it reared back, and showed its teeth like a dog.

 

“Slayer,” it hissed. 

 

“Slayee,” she answered with one of her better, old lines.

 

Buffy watched as the creature stalked around her, ready to pounce at any moment.  Yeah, that’s just what she wanted.  The creature finally stopped, turned towards her, and...

 

She jumped in shock as she felt something pierce through the skin in her neck.  It wasn’t a bite, she could tell that, but it felt as if someone had taken a pin and jammed into her.  She jerked away quickly, but the damage had already been done.  Instinctively, she placed her hand over the wound and turned to see what had caused it.

 

The power suit woman stood there holding a needle.  An evil smile was on her face as she studied the shocked Slayer.

 

“Very good, Jonah,” she called to the demon that had snuck away in the dark.

 

Buffys’ eyes narrowed in on the woman.  They had set her up and she had walked right into it.  Oh, they picked the wrong night to mess with her.

 

The tiny blonde took a step towards her, but suddenly felt very dizzy.  She put her hand up to her head to try and steady herself, but it had completely engulfed her now.  Her whole body wobbled for a moment before she felt herself hit the ground and then darkness.

 

*****

 

The place was hot, smelly, and made Willy’s look like club paradise. Yet this was where he found himself, playing pool for money, buying drinks, and doing his best to keep a low profile.  In his short time that he helped the Slayer, he had made quiet a reputation for himself, and not a particularly good one among his fellow demons.  Not that he really cared about his fellow demons thoughts or options on him.  Not with everything else that was going on.

 

The Starkin demon he was playing grumbled as he took a sip of his beer and lined up the shot in his head.  This was the money shot.  The one that determined who got the five hundred dollars that sat on the table’s edge.  He knew the demon would try and mess up his shot, or at least one of his little buddies that sat off to the side would, but they just didn’t realize what kind of trouble they’d be asking for if they tried something.  After the crap he went through with the Slayer, they would be a piece of cake.

 

“Eight ball, corner pocket,” he called as he bent down and hit the little white ball against the black.  It rolled slowly across the table and fell into the hole.

 

Spike sat up with a satisfied smile on his face as he looked over at the demon, grabbed the money off the side, and said, “Nice doin’ business with you, mate.”

 

“You cheated,” he demanded as the bleach blond started to walk away.  “Don’t know how, but I know you did.”

 

“Now, then, just because you suck at this game doesn’t mean you can go around accusin’ me of cheatin’,” Spike said over his shoulder.  “It’s not polite.”

 

He could smell the demon coming up behind him.  The dumb creature was going try and catch him off guard and take the money.  Well, he’d just see about that.

 

Spike took the pool stick that was still in his hand, and jammed the brunt end into the creatures’ stomach as his friends came in to attack.  When he doubled over, the vampire took the stick and used as a sort of bat, smashing it against his two friends’ heads before it actually broke.  When he had a sharp end, he took the demon he had played and slammed his face against the pool table.  His little friends stopped their advance as they saw him reading to kill him.

 

“That’s enough!” a woman said from the bar.

 

Kate, the bartender, was a middle age woman who reminded Spike a lot of Joyce.  She had a set on her, more then most guys he had meet over the years, and she was proving it now when she had a shot gun pointed at them.  Even though she knew it wouldn’t kill Spike, it would just hurt like hell, and it could do some major damage to the demon trio that was attacking him.  In fact, he was pretty sure that it could kill them.

 

“If you want to kill each other, that’s fine.  But you do it outside.”

 

One of the friends began to laugh as he looked at the graying woman and her weapon.

 

“Don’t worry guys.  Bar tenders always threaten, but they never do anything about it.”

 

Spike’s eyes widen as he hit the deck.  He had been around Kate long enough to know she wasn’t the bluffing type.

 

The woman cocked the gun, pointed it at the friend who had said it, and fired.  He had a surprised look on his face as the bullet spread, but was mainly focused in on his on his stomach.  A few of the shrapnel caught his friends, but the vampire had managed to avoid it.  The body fell to the ground as she took aim at the other two.

 

“Still think I’m bluffing?”

 

The two remaining demons held up their hands as they slowly backed to the door and left.  When it shut with a loud thud, Kate lowered the gun and turned to Spike.

 

“Keep making trouble and I’ll have to use this on you.”

 

“Don’t worry, love.  I was only tryin’ to protect what’s mine.”

 

“Yeah, well, since you were fightin’ ‘em, you can drag the body out back.”

 

Spike smiled at her as she went back to wiping down the counter, and making sure no one else in the bar was making any sort of trouble.

 

The metal back door slammed shut as he drug the body into the alley.  The bar was in the dock district, which was good for getting rid of bodies.  All he had to do was roll him off the edge of concert slab and out into the ocean, and he could go back to what he was doing.  With as heavy as this guy was, he wouldn’t even have to weigh down the body.  It would sink on its own.

 

The body splashed when it hit the water, and Spike stood there for just a moment to make sure that it disappeared into the murky depths.  When the mans bright green shirt disappeared, he smiled to himself and headed back to the bar.

 

He found another man standing under the yellow light at the back door. He straiten up as soon as the vampire approached.  Great, must be another one of he demons friends looking for a little pay back.  Don’t these guys ever give up?

 

“Are you Spike?  Also known as William the Bloody?” the man asked in a very proper tone that Spike almost thought that it was the Watcher standing there.

 

“Sometimes,” he answered coolly as he crossed his arms.  “Who’s askin’?”

 

The man never took his eyes off the peroxide blond.  He simply raised his hand and, with two fingers, gestured towards him.

 

Spike heard the gun just about the dart hit him.  He growled in pain for a moment, before turning to see who did it, only to find darkness.  His yellow eyes turned back to the man who had ordered the shot, but the man didn’t move.  He was unafraid of the vampire, which fell into darkness before he even really knew what happened.

 

*****

 

Joyce pulled her robe tightly around herself as she headed to the door.  Whoever was calling this early in the morning would just have to settle for a woman wearing no make up, messed up hair, and a bath robe.  She hated to be seen like this, but it was more then obvious that this person wasn’t going to give up that easily.

 

“Who is it, Mom?” Dawn asked from the top of the stairs.  She was rubbing her eyes with the back of her hands and that was soon followed by a deep yawn.

 

“I don’t know, Honey,” she answered as she reached the door.

 

When Joyce opened it, the cold, wet morning air hit her hard, and almost took her breath away.  The sun that was peeking over the neighbors’ house and blinded her for a moment, but then her eyes adjusted to see the shadow in front of her change to a large man.  A large police officer.

 

Joyce rolled her eyes.  Considering that Dawn was standing right behind her, it must be Buffy and her slaying has gotten her in trouble again.

 

“What happened now?” she asked in an unconcerned voice as she looked at the officer.

 

His face remained even as he said, “Are you Mrs. Joyce Summers?  The mother of Buffy Anne Summers?”

 

“Yes,” she answered, still rather unconcerned.

 

The man drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

 

“Mrs. Summers, there was a fight last night involving your daughter and an unknown second party at Oceanview Cliff.  The details are still pretty sketchy, but witnesses said that your daughter and the second party were engaged in a pretty violent physical fight.  They say that the second party kicked you daughter pretty hard, and that she stumbled to far back.”

 

Joyce felt her face starting to drain of color.  No.  He couldn’t be saying what she thought he was saying.

 

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Summers,” he said lowly as he held up a torn, wet brown jacket.

 

She took the jacket from him and held it for a moment.  It was the one that she had given Buffy on her last birthday.  For a moment, she thought it might not be hers, maybe it belonged to someone else that just looked like Buffy, but the tag said other wise.  Written in big red letters in marker were the letters B.A.S.

 

---

 

Part 2: Captives

 

She wasn’t sure how long she had been there, a month, maybe two, but she was sure that she had to get out of there soon.  The way they were studying her - her strength, her endurance, her intelligence, and all of her personal and private habits - she knew they were preparing to do something to her, something bad, and she had no intentions of becoming someone weird science project.

 

They drugged her whenever they handled her.  First it was in her food, a fact that she caught onto quickly.  She stopped eating for about a week and was so weak by the end that she couldn’t fight them off when they took her to the infirmary.  They were smart and kept her strapped down to the bed as they force feed her drugged food.

 

That had actually been the first time she had gotten to see any of the compound besides her room.  The place was built like a hospital, with corridors that all blended together and nurses - or guard- stations on every corner. 

 

In her hospital room, there was a large window that they usually kept shut.  Buffy only got to look out once when her nurse opened it for a moment to see something.  The compound was in the middle of a heavily wooded area and off in the distance was a beach.  Good.  Then maybe she wasn’t to far from home.

 

She stayed in the hospital room for nearly two weeks.  Thanks to the window, she was able to count the days. However, she didn’t know how long she was out, so it could have been a couple more days then that. 

 

The little blonde was actually well by the end of the first week, but they took the opportunity to study her biology while she was there.  Buffy had never been fond of doctors or hospitals before, and, when they were finished, she really hated them.

 

Once they were finished, they took her back to her regular room where she had remained since.  There was nothing really wrong with it, besides the fact that it was actually a cell.  It was about a twelve by ten, with a double bed, a closet filled with clothes, and her own bathroom.  The bathroom was well stocked, with her favorite shampoos, body soaps, and toothpaste, and there were always new bottles at the end of ever so many days.  That was how she kept track of time here.

 

After the hospital, she had not seen a soul.  She knew there were there. After all, someone was leaving her a tray of food every day, refurnishing her bathroom, and washing her clothes.  The thing was, they would do this only after they drugged her and made sure that she was out. 

 

She knew what they were trying to do, to break her in isolation, but it wasn’t going to work.  It would take a whole lot more then this to make her crack.

 

They’ve now given her a goal to work for.  Kicking all there asses whenever she got out of there, and she would.  She always did.

 

*****

 

He laid flat on his back, staring up at the light that was built into the ceiling.  Two bleeding months had gone by and he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the people who were keeping him.  They were watching him, he knew that. And they feed him everyday, but he had no idea what they wanted. 

 

At first he was hesitant about drinking the blood that they dropped from him, but he got so hungry that he didn’t care if they experimented on him at one point.  When they didn’t drug him, he had eaten the blood on a regular basis, though he hated been ‘feed’.  Made him feel like some sort of blasted animal.

 

“I must be in hell,” he thought aloud.

 

His voice had been the only one he had heard in all his time there.  When he woke up in the tiny white room, he thought that maybe Solider Boy and his friends started up their experiments again, so he called to the person who should be in the next cell, only to find it empty.  Thus, after calling for a long while, he found himself completely alone with no one to talk to or bother but himself.

 

What he wouldn’t give to have someone to fight with.  Hey, at this point, he’d even take the Whelp, but he really wanted the Slayer, his slayer.

 

When he wasn’t dreaming about ripping the wankers who kept him here throats out, he was dreaming about her.  The way her hair smelled, the way she moved when she was beating the crap out of him, even the taste of her kiss that he remembered from when Red had put that spell on them.  If he had only known how much he would crave that taste later on, he wouldn’t have been so quick to push her away when he had her.

 

Yeah, she was what he wanted right then.  He not only wanted to see her, but he wanted a good dance that only she could give him.  True, he couldn’t really fight back, but that night outside the Bronze had proven they could find ways around that.  It might not be as good as a real fight to the death, but it was still better then half the battles he had been a part of during the past couple of months.

 

A blaring signal went off over head as a small hole opened in the ceiling and bag of blood dropped to the floor beside him.  What?  Did the wankers just steal the idea from Solider Boy and his friends?  They could have at least tried to be a little original.

 

Spike reached over and grabbed the bag off the floor.  He looked at it for a moment, then sighed.

 

“Could at least give a bloke a mug or something,” he called up to the ceiling.

 

In response, the hole that had dropped it slammed its door firmly shut.

 

“Figures,” he said to himself before he tore into the bag and drank it greedily.

 

*****

 

The woman looked down into the micro scope, adjusting the lens to get a better view of the blood test before her.  The person that the blood came from had given them a chance to do something that they never dreamed possible, but now it was looking more and more likely.  And then there was that prophecy they had found.  It was exciting to think that maybe they would have something to do with saving the world.

 

She reached over and jotted something on the paper beside the scope, giving the pretense that she was actually working, before she looked up at the clock on the wall.  Not much longer now, that is, if everything went to plan.

 

They had done everything they could to make it a controlled environment, but, when it came to dealing with slayers and vampires, nothing was ever to controlled.  They kept her so weak for so long, they weren’t sure if they would be able to carry this out or not.  But she had gotten better, and her test all came back good and clean. 

 

She was the prefect subject for this. They just had to wait for the prefect time to carry it out.  Now was that time.  They had to wait almost a month after the tests were finished, but the time had finally come.  Now she felt like a kid waiting for Christmas morning to see if Santa had brought them anything good.  Only thing was, if this worked, they would still have to wait awhile for the gift to arrive, but it would be worth it.

 

“Dr. Lang,” a voice called to her.

 

The middle age Asian woman turned on the black stool to face her co-worker.

 

“It’s time,” he said evenly.

 

Lang did her best to hide her excitement, but she felt the tips of her lips curl up ever so slightly.  To keep the appearance of total professionalism, she stood up, straitens her white coat, and forced the smile down.

 

“I’ll be there in a moment,” she told him as she reached over and picked up the clip board that held the paper she had been working on.  “I just have to enter this into the computer.”

 

Didn’t want to seem too eager, she thought.

 

The man stood there for a moment, then lowered his head a bit before saying, “Yes, Ma’am.”

 

When he shut the door, Lang turned and looked at the clock one last time, before flipping a few pages on the board and jotting down what the clock said.  She held up the pen, clicked the bottom of it, and then placed the board on the table.  The good doctor would let one of the underlings put the information in the computer.  She couldn’t miss this.

 

The short woman then headed for the door as she said to herself, “Show time.”

 

*****

 

Buffy knew what happened the moment she woke up.  That taste in her mouth said it all.  They had started to drug her food again.

 

“Oh, come on, Guys,” she called up with her eyes still closed.  “I thought we’ve moved past this.”

 

“Slayer?” a familiar voice said from nearby.

 

Buffy’s eyes shot open as she stared strait up at the dark ceiling.  No.  It couldn’t be.

 

She sat up in bed and looked out into the darkness of her room.  The bathroom door had been left open, and the light was caste across the floor, which caught the figure that lay on the ground.  Spike groaned slightly as he forced himself up onto his knees and then reached for his head.

 

Buffy slid out of her bed and walked over towards her old enemy.  At first, she thought it a mere hallucination brought on by the drug.  In fact, that was how she was going to treat him as she reached him.  He looked up with those deep blue eyes.  They looked as if he were trying to decide whether or not she was real either.

 

 Against her better judgment, she held out her hand to him to help him up.  She was sure that once they didn’t touch, he would disappear. Then maybe she could have a hallucination about someone she actually liked.  He looked at it for a moment and then took it.

 

Buffy jumped when the cold skin touched hers.  He was really there!  Spike seemed just as surprise to feel her warm skin against his cold.  It was dark, but Buffy would almost swear that he seemed glade to see her.

 

Instantly, she tried to think of how he must be responsible for all this.  Some way, somehow, he had to be part of this.  He just had to be.

 

But then she looked up at this bleached blond hair that he had always been so careful to keep completely white.  It was now about an inch longer, and his dark roots were showing through.  Unless he started to go for a new look, he wasn’t in on this, a part of her was telling her.  Not that she was really listening to it.

 

“What are you doing here?” she bit at him.

 

“Baking a bloody cake, Slayer,” he said sarcastically.

 

She glared at him.  Now really wasn’t the time for that.

 

“Haven’t the foggiest,” he told her in an honest tone.  “I just woke up and found myself here.  You?”

 

“Same,” she sighed. “Course, that was about two months ago.”

 

“Two months?” he said surprised.  “I can see them not lookin’ for me, but the Scoobies leavin’ you here for that long...Hard to believe that.”

 

“What?  You’ve been here that long too?”

 

“Yeah,” he said going and leaning against the wall.  “Course, my room isn’t near as nice as yours.  Ain’t that always the way.”

 

“Well, if you want it, you can have it.  Just get me out of here first.”

 

“Don’t worry so much, Slayer. I’m sure Captain Cardboard has the National Guard out lookin’ for you right now.”

 

Buffy winced at the nickname. 

 

In her two months there, she had a lot of time to think, especially considering the lack of other options.  Her and Riley’s relationship had occupied many of them.  Now that she thought about, Xander had been right.  She did treat him as the transition guy, but, maybe, that was because that was just what he was. 

 

It didn’t mean that she did love him, she did in her own way, but he wasn’t the long haul guy.  After all, he had left her right when she really needed him because she didn’t love him the way that he wanted.  Whether she liked to think of it or not, if he left because of something like that instead of working it out like a normal couple, he would have left her eventually anyway.  At least she wasn’t in to deep when he did.

 

“Or maybe the Slayerettes,” Spike continued after she remained silent about her old boyfriend.

 

He was either ignoring her reaction to his mention of Riley, or had just decided to play cool about it.  One could never tell when it came to the annoying, not-as-evil-as-he-use-to-be, handsome vampire.

 

Handsome?!  Since when has Spike ever been anything more then repulsive at best?!  Ugh, Buffy.  You’ve been locked up in this room way, way, way to long.

 

“You’re awful quiet over there, love,” he said when she still remained silent.  “What?  Wonderin’ if Major Mistake is lettin’ some girlie girl suck on him?”

 

She knew he meant about Riley letting female vampires suck his blood, but everything Spike said always seemed to have some sort of sexual undertone to it.  This was just a little bit closer to the surface then most.

 

“Yeah, I bet that’s what it is,” he went on.  “We’re bein’ held her against our bloody will, and she’s worried about her sex toy.”

 

“He’s not my sex toy,” she bit at him coldly.

 

“What?  Tired of him already?”

 

“You know, you’re lucky I don’t have a stake,” she told him.

 

Spike pushed away from the wall and walked towards her.

 

“Why?  You don’t have the stones to do anythin’.”

 

Her eyes narrowed in on him.

 

“You know what.  I don’t need a stake,” she said before she slugged him.

 

*****

 

Chen sat at the desk, watching the monitor that was being feed an image from the Slayers room. Lang was standing behind the man, studying the interaction between the two mortal enemies.

 

They had done nothing it seemed but fight since they woke up.  Not exactly what she had planed.  In fact, it wasn’t even close.

 

Now the vampire had now antagonized her enough to make her hit him.

 

“Should we gas them before they hurt each other?” Chen asked as he turned to the woman in charge.

 

She watched them for a moment.  The way they fought, it was almost like watching someone dance across the stage.  They moved with each other, knowing the others intentions before the person even realized it.  She had studied vampire/slayer relationship for years, and gotten to see more then four different slayers in battle.  Never, in all that time, did she ever see one like this.

 

“No,” she told him.  “Let them continue.”

 

He gave her a worried look and then turned back to the monitors.

 

*****

 

Buffy rolled across the floor and jumped to her feet as he came back after her.  She kicked up at his head, but he dodged.  She came with a round house, which knocked him to the side with her.

 

“Come on, Slayer,” he said as they straiten back up. “I know you can do better then that.”

 

He causally through three punches at her head like he had outside of the Bronze that night she asked him about the other slayers, and she dodged them just as easily.

 

“Oh, I intend to,” she said as she swung at his head.  He dropped to the ground, and then tried to kick her feet out from under her.  She jumped in the air to avoid it.  “It’s my job to beat the crap out of you after all.”

 

She caught his punch before it hit her and through him over her shoulder like she had learned in high school.  Looking down at him, she said, “Not that you would know what having a job is like.”

 

He made a face as he kicked his legs up and leapt to his feet.  “I have a job,” he said as they started their fight again.

 

She laughed as she through a punch at him.  “Hustling at that run down bar on ninth isn’t my idea of a job.  Didn’t think I knew about that, did you?”

 

“Do you really think I care? Besides, a bloke’s got to pay for his blood somehow,” he said as he caught her fist in his hand.  “Might as well be from the winnin’s at a pool table.”

 

She through another punch with her free hand, and he caught that one as well.  He stepped to her to where their bodies were pressed against one another, and he had both her arms locked behind her back.  She tried to break free, but the way he held her she couldn’t.

 

“Speaking of winnin’,” he said with an evil smile.  “How are you goin’ to do it now, pet?”

 

She looked at him for a moment, going over every move that Giles had ever taught her.  Only problem was, she was coming up empty, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to lose.  So she did the only thing she could think of.  She crushed her lips against his, and began to kiss him deeply.  It had surprised him alright, not to mention herself.

 

Why had she chosen this as her means to win?  What even made her think that this was something she could use?!  Why was she still kissing him?

 

She only pulled away when she needed air, and the two looked at each other in complete shock.  This was disgusting, wrong, evil, did she mention disgusting?  Then why couldn’t she fight the urge to kiss him again?  And why was he kissing her back?

 

When he let go of her arms, she placed her free hands around the back of his neck as if she were forcing him to hold the kiss.  Then she jumped up and wrapped her leg around him. He responded to by placing one arm under her to hold her up, and the other around her back to keep her from falling away from him.

 

She felt him move forward a little, and then she fell backwards onto the bed.  He was the one to break the kiss this time, and he just looked at her for a moment.  Those deep blue eyes seemed to be searching for something, though she wasn’t quiet sure just what.  She just smiled for a moment before she pressed her lips against his again.

 

She had been alone in the room for way to long, she told her.  Way, way, way to long.

 

*****

 

Chen sat at the desk watching the monitors closely.  Man, he had the absolute best job in the world.  Where else could you watch something like this and it be considered a scientific experiment?

 

“It’s not scrambled porn, Chen,” Lang said from behind him.  “So stop watching it as if it were.  You’ll give yourself a nosebleed if you don’t.”

 

After he had started to make her scream, Lang had ordered the volume turned off, much to Chen’s displeasure.  The last thing she needed around here was for the others doctors involve to think that she was doing just what she accused Chen of doing.  This was scientific, and she would gladly argue with anyone who disagreed.

 

“I guess they weren’t kidding whenever they told us that that potion would increase their libido activity,” she said more to herself then to him.

 

“You mean make them into a pair of lust bunnies?” Chen said flatly.

 

He always did have a way of putting things in the crudest terms.

 

“Yes.  I guess you can put it that way.  All thought, when the boss calls, I wouldn’t say that to him.”

 

“Not like I talk to the man anyway,” he said going back to watch the monitors.

 

Chen’s eyes widen for a moment as he watched the events a little longer, then turned back to the doctor.

 

“You know, she’ll kill him once the spell or whatever wears off.”

 

“That’s why he won’t be there when it does,” Lang told him calmly.  “The spell has another good two hours before it’ll be over with, so we’ll give them another hour and a half, then gas them.  By the time they wake up, it’ll be over and done with.”

 

“Are you sure this is going to work?” he asked.  “I mean, just this one night?”

 

“One time is all it takes,” she told him.  “We’ve studied her; know what we needed to know.  Besides, if at first you don’t succeed...”

 

“Dr.  Lang,” a new doctor called from the doorway.  “Call for you.  I think it’s the main office.”

 

“I’ll take it in my office,” she told him heading for the door.  She stopped and then said over her shoulder, “And, Chen.  Stop drooling.”

 

He made a mocking face at her as she left, then turned back tot he monitors.

 

Man, he loved his job.

 

---

 

Part 3: Faith in Us

 

Joyce reached into her daughters’ closet and pulled out another one of her blouses.  She held it for a long moment, just looking at it. 

 

A few months ago, she would have seen Buffy prancing around in it, and she would silently sigh inwardly about how awful she actually thought it looked.  It was part of the mother code, to think that their daughters close are hideous. But now, what she wouldn’t give to see her daughter in it.

 

She brought the shirt up to her face and took a deep breath.  It still smelled like her.  If she closed her eyes, she could almost see her.

 

Joyce began to sob to herself when she thought of her beautiful daughter.  So young, so full of life.  She wasn’t supposed to die now.

 

“Mom,” Dawn said in a small voice from the doorway.

 

She looked up at her youngest daughter, quickly wiping away the tears.  Dawn looked nothing like her other daughter.  In fact, she favored her ex-husbands mother more then anybody, a woman who had died years before Dawn was even born.

 

But she hadn’t been born, she had been created.  This was a fact that the girl was still oblivious to, and Joyce planned to keep it that way.  Only she, Rupert, and Buffy had known, and none of them would tell, ever. 

 

But just because Buffy was gone, didn’t mean that this Glory woman had stopped looking.  In the past couple of months, she had become even more determined to find her daughter.  That was what brought her up there that afternoon.

 

“Mom, why are you packing Buffy’s things?”

 

Joyce gave her daughter a weary smile.

 

“Sit down, Dawn,” she said patting her hand against the patch of carpet next to her.

 

The fourteen-year-old walked over to where her mother sat and plopped down next to her.

 

“You’ve noticed how things around here haven’t gotten worse since Buffy...left, right?  Well, I’ve decided that it’s just to bad right now. So, we are heading to Aunt Julies for awhile.”

 

“Aunt Julies?!  You mean all the way up in Seattle?!” the girl exclaimed.  “For how long?  Are we moving there?”

 

“No, we’re not moving,” she smiled faintly.  “We just need to get away for awhile.  Let things cool off around here.  We’ll be back, I promise.”

 

Dawn leaned her head against her mothers shoulder.

 

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re packing some of Buffy’s things.”

 

“Because, honey,” she said weakly.  “I need to take a little something of her with us.”

 

*****

 

She could feel him, his cool skin against her hot, touching her, loving her.  Her logical side was screaming at her, demanding that she stop the action right at that moment, but she was far past the point of caring.  She was just giving in to what she wanted.  Living in the moment, as Parker once told her.  Regrets and horror was sure to follow when logic took over again, but right now it meant nothing.  All that matter right then, was them.

 

Buffy woke up from the memory with a quick jerk of breath.

 

She had been right; logic did take back over the next morning, when she found herself alone in bed.  At first, she had tried to convince herself that she had simply dreamed the whole thing, that her mind had played a trick on her into thinking that somebody was there. But she could smell him on her. No matter how many showers she took, she didn’t seem to be able to wash the sent away.

 

Furious didn’t come close to what she felt when she became good old Buffy again.  She was beyond angry with him for taking advantage of her like that, for giving in and doing that with her.  But what she should have expected from a soulless demon whose purpose seems to be to make her life miserable. 

 

The real person she was angry at was herself.  She had aloud it to happen.  In fact, she had been the one to instigate the whole action.  And then, she didn’t exactly fight any when it was going on.  Well, not the right kind of fighting anyway.

 

To vent her anger, she had taken the mattress off that accursed bed, set it up against one of the walls, and proceeded to knock the snot out of it.  She did this every day and it did seem to help.  So she went on to finding other work outs that she could do while trapped there.  She would run back and forth from one side of her cell to the other, do what little gymnastics she could in the limited space, and also shadow fight.  All this helped with her anger, not to mention kept her in shape for whenever she got a hold of these people or Spike.

 

A while after that night happened, she was darting from one end of the room to the other, and began to think about home.

 

 Did they have any idea what happened to her?  Were they looking for her?  Were Giles and her Mom able to keep Glory from finding out about Dawn?  Was her Mom getting any better?

 

The questions were wreaking havoc with her mind and she suddenly felt dizzy.  These guys hadn’t drugged her because she hadn’t eaten yet that day, and that always made her feel sleepy anyway.  Buffy reached out to steady herself on the wall, but the world would stop spinning.  The next thing she knew, the floor was rushing up at her before blackness took her.

 

That was when she woke up here, back in the hospital room.  At the time, she had surprised them as they were trying to do something to her.  Though they had her strapped down, she was still almost able to set herself free.  While seven of them held her down, a nurse came in and gave her something to calm her down.  It didn’t take her long before she was out again.

 

Now she was alone in the room.  The first thing she tried when she regained consciousness was to pull on her arms, only to find herself still strapped to the bed.  Normally, she would have been able to break them with no problem, but the drugs were still making her feel rather groggy.  So, the slayer just laid back and looked out the window that they had left opened this time.

 

It was a bright blue day outside without a cloud in sight.  Off in the distance, the clear ocean water was pounding against the white sandy beach, as wind blew across the top of the trees.  Now that she was actually looking, Buffy realized that it wasn’t a forest at all, but a jungle.  She recognized the canopy top from pitchers she had seen in her high school geography book.

 

Sitting up slightly in bed, she said to herself, “Where am I?”

 

“In the South Seas,” a woman answered from the doorway.

 

Buffy jerked her head over to find a middle age Asian woman standing there.  She was holding a clip board, as she crossed over and stood beside the window.

 

“About fifty miles off the coast of China, give or take a mile or two,” she went on before turning and looking at Buffy.  “My name is Lang, by the way.”

 

“You name is dead meat when I get a hold of you,” she bit back at her, still pulling on the straps.

 

Lang gave her a faint smile.

 

“What are you planning, Ms Summers?  To break free and escape?”

 

“Thought occurred to me, yeah.”

 

“And where would you go?  We’re on an island, remember.  An island that we control through and through.  There is no where for you to run, no where to hide, and no way off without our knowing,” she said calmly. “Now I’ve come here to offer you a choice.  We can either continue on with our current arrangement, which I think is not very healthy for you, or you decided to corporate with us and we make life very good for you.”

 

“And why would I want to corporate with the people who kidnapped me, leave me alone for months, put Spike in my room only to take him away before I could stake his sorry ass, and drug me whenever they feel like it?  Seems the last thing I would want to do would be to get along with you people.”

 

Lang let out a breath and looked down at the clip board in her hand.

 

“If I were you, Ms Summers, I would seriously consider my offer.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

Lang walked over and sat down on the bed.  Man, this really was a brave woman!

 

“Because, Buffy,” she said gently.  “You’re pregnant.”

 

*****

 

Quinton Travers sat at his desk as Giles entered the man’s office. 

 

He couldn’t remember the last time he was here, maybe it was when they told him he was getting his own slayer, but the place hadn’t changed a bit.  It was still dark, with dark wood paneling; bookshelves covered with leather bound first additions, and evil looking little statues that were used as stoppers on either end of the line of books.

 

Travers seemed to be rather involved with whatever he was doing, and only looked up at Giles after the man got up and fixed him a drink.  He never was one to like to share his liquor, and the middle age man knew it would get his attention.  Travers quickly finished what he was doing as Giles took his seat again.

 

“Well, Mr. Giles, what can I do for you?”

 

“I’ve come to find out why a new slayer hasn’t been called since-” his voice became soft as he thought of a good word that wouldn’t hurt so bad to say, “the incident.  It’s been over six months, and things on the Hellmouth have gotten worse.”

 

“I’ve had my people look into that,” he said as he leaned back in his chair.  “Apparently, Ms. Summers successor was called with Kendra, which in turn means that a new Chosen One will not be called for her second death.  I’m afraid the only slayer now is Ms. Faith, and will be until her death.”

 

“And she’s in jail,” Giles added more for himself then Travers.

 

“A very unfortunate situation that we are now trying to fix.”

 

Giles frowned at the tone.  Their definition of ‘fixing’ the situation probably meant that poor Faith would end up dead.

 

“Don’t look so worried, Rupert,” Travers said with a slight laugh.  “Ms. Faith will be fine.  I have my men working with the California courts to try and overturn her conviction and set her free.”

 

“Oh, so she only winds up dead if the courts say that she has to stay,” he added dryly.

 

“None of that, Mr. Giles,” Quinton warned.  “You have to have little faith in us.  You use to before.”

 

“That was a long time ago,” he answered as he stood.  He placed the glass still filled with the brown liquid on the desk   “Very long ago.”

 

“Mr. Travers,” a voice called over the intercom.  “There’s call for you on line two.”

 

“Thank you, Lindsey,” he said before turning back to Giles.  “If there is nothing more, Rupert.”

 

“No, there’s not,” Giles said as he took his coat off the rack, headed for the door, and wondered why he had come there in the first place.

 

---

 

Part 4: Run Away

 

She didn’t like Lang.  Then, she didn’t like anyone here, but especially Lang.  The woman looked at her as if she were caring the Second Coming, and there was no telling what she had plan for the baby once it was born.   That scared her more then anything. 

 

A cool breeze blew off the ocean as Buffy sat on the ground.  Her feet were dug down deep in the sand, as she looked up and down the beach.  She was trying to see if there was any possible way she could get out of there, but, thus far, Lang had been right.  No one got on or off the island without there knowledge. Even if she did get out of there, she wouldn’t have any idea where she was going.

 

Buffy looked down at her stomach.  She was barely starting to show, but she looked fat in the bathing suit.  Gently, she placed her hand over the small bulge that had started to form and sighed. She had to get off.

 

“Ms. Summers,” a man called from down the beach.

 

Buffy turned to see the other doctor, Chen, standing there with his hand shading his squinting eyes.  He was a good bit younger than Lang, maybe only a couple of years older than Buffy herself.  The little blonde couldn’t help but wonder how he got mixed up in all this.

 

“What is it, Chen?” she asked as she squinted up at his form.

 

“Dr. Lang was just wondering how much longer you were planning on staying out here,” he told her.

 

“Not much longer,” she said turning her attention back to the ocean.

 

“Well, when you’re ready, she’d like to see you in her office,” Chen said as started back towards the main compound.  Buffy managed to push herself up off the sand, and headed after the young man. 

 

Lang had kept her word about making her life more comfortable if she corporate.  She had nearly complete access to whole island, the doctors tried to be nice when they spoke to her, and they had even moved her to a apartment type cell. 

 

They said it wasn’t a cell, just her room, but when one is unable to leave on their own free will, it’s a cell, no matter what they call it.

 

It took a moment for Buffy’s eyes to readjust to the artificial light in the main building.  Her skin suddenly felt hot when the air conditioning hit her, and she finally noticed how red it looked. Lang was going to have a cow that she got sunburned, but it would be gone by tomorrow.  Besides, she doubted that it would hurt the baby in any way.

 

Buffy reached the last office in this hall and hesitated for a moment.  It was her office.  The office she had spent way too much time in the past few months.  The office she always seemed to find herself standing right outside of.

 

Lang had left the door slightly ajar that day, and Buffy could hear speaking on the phone to someone.  The Slayer leaned up against the wall, and began to ease drop just like she use to do when her mother was on the phone with someone and didn’t want her to know it.

 

“She seems to be doing rather well, Sir,” Lang said confidently.  “It’s almost been a full two weeks since her last escape attempt.”

 

I wouldn’t exactly call me looking for a boat at the dock an escape attempt, she thought to herself.  Not with fifty guards watching me, at least.

 

“What do you mean?....No, she hasn’t tried to hurt the child, as I suspected....No, you said you didn’t know if she would try something or not.  I am the one that stated that she would care for the child and be protective of it.  If it were up to you and the others, I would still have her strapped down to a bed somewhere, completely drugged out of her mind.  It’s healthier this way.  For both of them....True, you might know her past, but I know her personality.  She wouldn’t dream of hurting her baby, no matter who the father is.”

 

Unconsciously, Buffy reached down and placed her hand over her stomach.  If Lang wanted to see protective, just let her try and do something to her baby.

 

“What about him?....Yes, Sir, we are still treating him as a hostile....I understand....No.  To be completely honest, if it were at all possible, I wouldn’t have told her,” she laughed.  “It’s just going to be harder to take the child from her when it’s time.”

 

What?!  If she thought she was laying a hand on her child-!

 

“Yes, Sir....I understand.  Goodbye,” she said hanging the phone up.

 

Buffy jumped to her feet and started to walk away.  She couldn’t stand to look at the woman right at that moment, let alone speak with her.  Plus she had to figure a way off this rock and soon.  Sure, it was a top priority to begin with, but now she understood that she had to do it right now before they tried anything. 

 

Then there was the fact that soon she wouldn’t be able to travel that well, and she needed to get as far away from them before that happened.  But in order to do that, she would need help.  Help she didn’t really want, but desperately needed.  Help that could only come from one person, the only other person she did not want to see more than Lang herself.   She was going to need Spike’s help.

 

*****

 

Lang let out a sigh after she hung up the phone on her boss.  Though he was a very proper man, he gave her the creeps.  Something about him just made her feel uneasy, like he would do anything to get what he wanted.  She would just have to remember to stay on his good side.

 

The woman reached down and typed a command into her computer.  Her schedule for the day came up, and she frowned as she read over it.  That was just wonderful.

 

She left her office and headed down the hall to the lab that her partner was working in.  Chen looked up at her for a moment, then went back to typing something on his computer.

 

“I need you to do something for me,” she told him.

 

“Don’t you always?” he asked.

 

“I was supposed to examine the vampire tonight, but my assistant double booked me and I am expected at a board meeting on the main land.  Could you please take my appointment?”

 

“With the vampire or the other blood suckers?”

 

Lang rolled her eyes.  Why did she even bother sometimes?

 

“The vampire, Chen.  Because, in case you haven’t noticed, you don’t have the best people skills out there.  If I let you go to the board meeting, you probably have all of our jobs by morning, then where would we be?”

 

“I don’t know,” he said as he finally stopped what he was doing.  “I mean, at least you don’t have to worry about the board members attacking you.”

 

“He’ll be unconscious, Chen.  And it’ll only take a moment to make sure he hasn’t injured himself or any such thing.”

 

The young man thought it over, then smiled at her.

 

“Do I get paid extra for this?  It being your job and all.”

 

Lang drew in a breath to try and keep her anger down.  His job was to be her underling, and all he did was aggravate her.

 

“No.  Just do it because I said.”

 

“Not good enough,” he answered as he leaned back in his chair.  Then an idea struck him.  “Tell you what.  I’ll do this if you let me get a copy of the tape.”

 

“Tape?” she asked before understanding what he meant.  It was vile, disgusting, unprofessional, and, most of all, do able.  “Deal.”

 

Chen smiled to himself as he leaned forward and placed his hands back on the keyboard.

 

“Nice doing business with you, doc.”

 

“Just keep it to yourself,” she warned.  “And, if anyone asks how you got it, I will deny all knowledge and let you deal with the mess.”

 

“Fine by me.  See you later, Lang.”

 

The woman turned and walked out of the office.

 

“Troll,” she muttered to herself before heading back to her office to wait for Ms Summers.

 

*****

 

The car speed along the dark, deserted high way, the little red body cut through the night in a blur, as the automobiles three occupants kept checking over their shoulders.

 

“Faster, Xander!” Anya cried.

 

“I’m going as fast as we can, Ahn!” he yelled back.

 

The young mans eyes checked the speedometer for the millionth time, and it read the same, 114 mph.  That was the top speed of Giles little red convertible, but he wished it was more.  Like worp speed faster.

 

Willow sat in the passenger seat, flipping through the pages of the old book she had found at Giles apartment.  They didn’t have much time left, and he hoped that his oldest friend would find whatever spell it was she was looking for.  She would!  She had to.

 

“I found it!” she exclaimed happily as if she were reading his thoughts.

 

“Great, Will.  Now we just have to get Giles back here and-”

 

“Xander!  Look out!!” Anya screamed from the backseat.

 

Xander turned his attention back to the high way just in time to see the headlights catch a woman who was standing directly in front of them.  His eyes widen as he griped the stirring wheel.

 

“OH-” he didn’t even finish the swear when the two objects collided.

 

Anya and Willow were both screaming as the car went into a spin.  He could feel it lifting up, but he couldn’t let the car flip.  If it did, they would all be killed.  His mind raced as he remembered what his drivers ed teacher said about turning into a spin. He did just that as he prayed that they would stop.  An eternity later, it did.

 

The car had stopped to where they were facing the way they had just came.  Though the front of the car was bent in from the collision, and one of the headlights were out, he could see the body of the woman lying in the road face down. 

 

Oh, God, had he killed someone?

 

“Are you guys alright?” Willow asked as she looked from friend to friend.

 

“I think so,” Anya said from the back seat.  “But I don’t think we should let Xander drive anymore.”

 

At seeing his face, Willow looked out the window.  She put her hand up over her mouth, and then laid it gently on his shoulder.

 

“Xander,” she said in a low weak voice.

 

“It’s okay, Will,” he lied. 

He’d have to feel guilty about this later, right now they had to get away.  Xander pressed down the accelerator, only to have the car groan at him. 

 

“Oh, no,” he said to himself as he fiddled with the gear shift.  “Don’t do this to me.”

 

“Xander?” Anya said leaning forward.

 

“Come on you stupid piece of junk,” he said to the car, ignoring his girlfriend.  Still, nothing but a groan.

 

“Xander,” she said a bit more forcefully.

 

He continued to try and make the damage convertible move until she grabbed his head and forced him to look up.  The woman’s body began to move, and she forced herself up into a standing position.  She walked into the light and Xander felt his heart sink.

 

“That was no very nice,” Glory said crossing her arms.  “Now you’ve ruined my favorite dress.”

 

“Out of the car,” he said as the group did just that.

 

They scrambled in the dark and he could hear her calling, “You know, I just want my key.  If you just let me have it, they we can forget everything.”

 

He glanced back towards the road where she had been standing, only to find it empty.  When he looked forward again, she was waiting for them.  He slid to a stop just short of her, and she reached out and grabbed him by the shirt.  She lifted him off the ground and smiled.

 

“Or not.”

 

“Let him go!” Anya screamed as she leapt towards her.

 

Glory raised her hand and sent the ex demon flying back.

 

“Anya!” he cried as she slid to a stop.

 

The woman clutched onto his shirt and pulled the brown hair man close to her face.

 

“Now, be a good boy and tell me where my key is,” she said to him calmly.

 

Willow said something that he didn’t understand, but Glory suddenly dropped him and went flying away from him.  It only took a moment for the creature to regain her bearings.  Now her anger was directed from the boy who had hit her with the car to the witch who had thrown her.  The woman got to her feet and started to walk in even steps towards the red head.

 

“Was I talking to you?!” she demanded.

“From this plan, I cast you back into the dark that you came.  For it to hold you forever, and never your power to hurt again,” Willow said as she read from the book.

 

“What?” Glory said.

 

“Open, oh door between heave and hell.  Take back this angel that fell.”

 

Xander could feel energy building around him.  Little stabs of electricity snapped at his exposed skin, as they became viable in blue lighting bolts.

 

Willow kept her eyes dead locked on Glory, but he and Anya were watching the firework display that the red head was creating.  One of the bolts hit Glory, then another, and another.  The woman at first seem to view them as nothing more than a nescient, but, the more they hit her, the more pain they seemed to cause her.  She jumped as one course through her, and then turned her attention back to the witch.

 

“You better stop this, you little...”

 

Her words trailed off as a blue glow began to surround everything.  Slowly, she turned to see what was causing it, and found that the little bolts had started to come together and swirl.  Willow was doing it, Xander had no doubt of that, as she held her hand out and concentrated on what she had created.

 

“Into the dark, I caste you now.  Into the shadow world, where no goodness is aloud!”

 

The wind began to blow hard, covering the group in dirt from the desert around them.  Xander put his head down for a moment to try and keep the dust out of his eyes, but he had to see if this works.  Squinting, he looked back up at the two women that stood near him.

 

Whatever power Willow had tapped into seemed to be protecting the girl as she stood as firm as a rock.  Glory, however, was fighting as she continued to push away from the portal and towards Willow.

 

“That’s not my home!” she exclaimed.  “I need the key to go home, and I’m not leaving without my key!”

 

She was a step in front of Willow when she belted out the last part of the spell.

 

“Leave this realm and all that dwell here.  From you, they’ll have nothing to fear!”

 

Glory’s feet slid a little on the ground, it would just be a manner of time before she would be sucked in.

 

“Well, if I’m going to the shadow world,” she said with stern face as her arm shot out and grabbed Willow by the wrist.  “Then you’re coming with me.”

 

Glory leapt into the air, and, the power that had been holding Willow, let go.

 

“WILLOW!!” Xander felt himself scream, but couldn’t hear it from the wind.

 

The two women flew in the air towards the blue light.  The book Willow had used to cast the spell slipped from her hands just as the two bodies were swallowed by the light.  A bright flash exploded and blinded Xander for a moment.  When he looked again, everything had become still and quiet.

 

“Willow,” he said lowly as he scrambled to his feet and raced towards where the women had been a moment ago.

 

The young man eyes raced over the scenery that was now starting to glow with yellow as the morning light began to break over head.  There was nothing, but the book.  He reached down, picked it up, and just stared at it for a long moment.

 

Then, he yelled in vain for his lost friend, “Willow!”

 

---

Part 5: Not What You Think

 

Chen was entering the information that Lang had given him into the computer when they wheeled him into lab.  The creature was out cold, but the doctor still felt a little apprehensive about approaching the vampire.  After all, how could one ever really tell when they were out?  They didn’t breath and one couldn’t check the heart rate.  They had to simply rely on visual conformation, and that was it.

 

With a sigh, he finished what he was typing and closed the lap top.  Then, he approached the vampire with the two guards.

 

“How long has he been out?” Chen asked as he began to look over the creature.

 

“About an hour,” the guard said.  “Hasn’t moved or anything.”

 

“Good,” Chen said as he began to look him over.  The little man frowned as he said, “Why did you leave the jacket on when you strapped him down?  I can’t examine him while it’s on.”

 

“No one said anything about taking it off, Sir,” the other guard protested.

 

The young doctor rolled his eyes as he stated, “You guy really are a bunch of idiots.  Come on, help he out here.”

 

He reached down and undid one of the restraints, and then reached across the body for the other one.  When it came undone, Chen felt something wrap around the top of his shirt.

 

“Hand’s off the jacket, mate,” a voice said to him before pushing him away.

 

The man crashed against the lab table, and watched in horror as his suspicions about the creature not truly being out came to life.  The two guards fumbled to stop him, but the vampire moved to fast for them.  He was off the gurney in less than a second, and then pushed it into the two of them.  It knocked both of them to the ground, but the creature grabbed his head in pain as the chip went off in his mind for causing the living harm.

 

The guards got their feet and were coming after the vampire when a white foam hit them.  They yelped in surprise as Chen turned to see Ms Summers standing there hosing them down with a fire extinguisher.

 

When it stopped, the vampire turned to her and stared in surprise.

 

“Hello, Cutie,” she smiled.

 

*****

 

Buffy had been staking out Lang all day, watching everything she did and what she ordered others to do.  Earlier that day, she had seen the woman give Chen some orders. Though she didn’t know what they were, Buffy had decided that she should investigate.

 

Things had been pretty quiet for most of the night, and the slayer had almost given up, when she heard something being wheeled to the lab that Chen had been working in.  It took less then a second to recognize the creature that was sprawled out on the bed.  Just the guy she was looking for.

 

If she knew him, he was playing possum. Chen and the guards were going to get a nasty little surprise when they tried to do something.  Carefully and quietly, she moved down the hall to the lab door and peeked inside.

 

The doctor was complaining about them not taking off Spike’s coat and was now trying to correct the problem.  Yeah, big nasty surprise, she thought as her eyes scanned down the hall.  But, knowing Spike, he probably was just going to try and get away forgetting about the chip in his head.  Her hazel eyes came to rest on what she was looking for, and she pulled the red tube off the wall.

 

“Hand’s off the jacket, mate,” she heard Spike say.

 

Buffy came in the lab just as Spike was clutching his head in pain and the guards were coming after the disobedient prisoner.  She pulled the pin and let the white foam wash over the two guards.  When it ran out, Spike turned to see who had helped him, and Buffy almost burst into laughter from the look of shock he gave her.  Suddenly, she could resist.

 

“Hello, Cutie,” she told him.

 

The guards had regained their bearings by now and split up, one going after each.  Buffy took a step back as the guard came after her with a raised fist.

 

“NO!” Chen yelled.  “Don’t hurt her!”

 

The man hesitated, and that was all she needed.  Grabbing hold of the top of the fire extinguisher with both hands, she swung it around and knocked the man across the face.  He stumbled to the side, and then fell to the ground unconscious.

 

“Didn’t say I couldn’t hurt you,” she said to the body.

 

The other guard had pushed Spike against the wall with blonde facing her.  He looked at her for help, and Buffy walked over towards them.  The vampire pushed the man as hard as he could which caused him to stumble backwards.  Buffy swung the red tube against, knocking him in the back of the head.  His body flipped forward, and he landed on the ground in night-night land just like his buddy.

 

“Do you always have to bring the worst out in people?” she asked him as she let the weapon fall to the ground.

 

“What can I say, Slayer?  It’s a gift.”

 

Buffy caught movement out of the corner of her eye, and saw Chen making a break for it.  She shot out after him and caught him by the arm before he got too far.  Twisting it behind his back, she then slammed his face down onto the lab table that Spike had through him against.

 

“Speaking of gifts,” Spike said eyeing the man as if he were a nice, plump Christmas turkey.

 

“Down boy,” she said to him as she held the doctor.  “We can’t kill him...yet.”

 

“You can’t mean that, Ms Summers!” Chen exclaimed, the fear bleeding though his every word.

 

Spike bent down to were he was looking the man face to face.

 

“You obviously haven’t dealt with the Slayer very often, so I’m going to tell you this.  With that look on her face, she most defiantly means what she says.  Now, the last time I saw that look, she sent her poof boyfriend to hell.  I don’t think she would have any problem sending you there.”

 

The man cringed under her grip and Spike looked up and smiled at her.

 

“What do you want?” he asked.

 

“A way off the island,” she said flatly.

 

“That’s easier said then done,” he told her.

 

“Then make it easier,” she bit back as she pulled up on his arm slightly.

 

He grunted in pain as he began to think.  Spike smirked his approval of her method, but she chose to ignore it.

 

“Okay, okay,” Chen said.  “The dock on the south side of the island has a boat that is suppose to be used in emergences.  But you’ll never make it there.  The others will pick you up before you even get out the building.”

 

Buffy frowned.  She knew he was right.  What they needed was a distraction.

 

Spike, seeming to read her thoughts, began to look around the lab.  He jimmied open one of the cabinets, and found it full of chemicals.  He picked up one of the bottles and then turned to Chen.

 

“Is this stuff flammable?”

 

“Yes, but-”

 

Spike opened the bottle and began to pour it on the lab tables and everything else.  Buffy looked around for a moment, knowing that she had to get the two guards out of there before they became bad guy flambé.  She spotted what she could use, and let Chen’s arm go.

 

“Stay,” she said as if she were commanding a dog.

 

He coward away from her, as she bent down and picked up one of the guards and placed him on the gurney they had used to bring Spike in on.  She then put the other up on top of him and strapped them down.  The little blonde pushed the bed out into the hall, then shoved it with all her might down the hall to safety.  When she returned, she grabbed Chen’s wrist and waited for Spike to finish.

 

He had thoroughly soaked the lab in the chemicals, and grabbed one of the lighters out of the cabniets when he felt he was finished.

 

“Ready to blow this place, Love?”

 

“Light her up, Sparky,” she told him heading out the door.

 

“Right,” he said before she disappeared out the door.

 

Buffy got to the end of the hall with the doctor and waited for a moment.  A second later she saw a red glow coming from the lab, and then Spike running towards them.  He was yelling at her to go, and the two started to run with him right behind.  They had no more then turned the corner when a large explosion rang through the hall followed by thick black smoke.  A bell began to scream as the sprinklers went off and soaked the trio.

 

There was mass confusion as doctors and nurses ran about the place trying to figure out what was going on.  None of them had timed to worry about the Slayer and strange blonde hair man that were fleeing from the scene with Chen.

 

When they had made it out and were heading to the beach when another explosion rang out from the building.  Buffy stopped for a moment and looked back at the place they had just been.  Must of been another chemical cabinet was the only thing she could assume.

 

“Come on, Slayer!” Spike yelled as he pulled on her arm slightly to make her come.

 

She began to run after him, dragging the doctor along with them.

 

“You know you won’t get that far even if you do make it to land,” Chen said as they dragged him along the moon light beach.  “We’ll have people looking for you everywhere.”

 

“Sounds like a challenge to me,” Spike said.  “And I love a challenge.”

 

“And you know what she’ll do to you when she catches you, Ms Summers?” he went on.  “She’ll keep you so drugged up that you won’t know night from day and you won’t ever see that baby.”

 

“Baby?” she heard Spike say.

 

“Shut up,” the blonde bit at the doctor.

 

“Yeah, Lang will fix it to where you won’t even know you’re pregnant,” he went on.  “And the kid, hum.  If they let it live long enough to understand what’s going on, she’ll tell it that its mother was a whore who got herself knocked up and didn’t even care enough about the child to get off the drugs that she was hooked to.”

 

Buffy stopped and spun around to where he was facing her.  Then, she slugged him as hard as she could.  The man hammered into the sand, as she continued on down the beach.

 

“Hold up, pet,” Spike said making her stop again.

 

He reached into the mans pocket and pulled out a wallet.  The vampire held it in front of him for a moment to show her what he had retrieved, then said, “Might need this.”

 

“Whatever,” she said moving on.

 

He jogged up to her side, then asked, “What’s this about you being pregnant?”

 

Buffy bit the bottom of her lip.  She could tell him it’s Riley’s, and why would he ever doubt that?  Vampire’s aren’t suppose to be able to have children, after all.  She would have never thought that it was his expect for the fact she was positive that she wasn’t pregnant when she got there, and she was after that one night they were together.  Something else that she was sure that Lang had something to do with because that would have never naturally occurred in a million years.  Magic of some sort had to be involved, she thought.

 

She opened her mouth to lie to him about it being Riley’s but found herself saying, “Later.  Right now we have to get out of here.”

 

“Couldn’t agree more,” he said as he walked up on the dock with her close behind.

 

They walked down to where they housed the boats, and found a guard sitting at main way.  He moved to stop them, but Spike simply pushed him and the man fell into the water.  When he came to the surface, he was yelling at them to stop, but neither one of them cared.

 

Buffy grabbed the keys and a map off the desk at the man station and followed Spike to the boat that was gassed up and ready to go at the end of the dock. 

 

Well, apparently Lang was wrong.  Sometimes people do get off of the island without her knowledge, she thought to herself as the two sped away into the ocean night.

 

*****

 

Xander walked into the Magic Box in a numb daze.  They were gone.  His two best friends in the whole world were gone.

 

They were both so much stronger then him, how could he be the only one left?  That was the question of the day.

 

Buffy had been the slayer, the Chosen One.  They knew from the start that she didn’t have a whole life to look forward to like them, but they always thought she would be different.  She would be the slayer that would eventually just died of old age, in bed, in Palm Beach, surrounded by chubby, happy grandchildren.  She was going to be the slayer that would become a ledge among believers and none.  But, she had fooled them.  She, as it seems, turned out to be just another slayer who finally got into a battle she couldn’t win.

 

Then there was Willow.  She could have just walked away from all this just like him a million times or more, but chose to stay because it was the right thing to do.  Even after Buffy’s death they could have left, but didn’t because they couldn’t let this Glory woman win. 

 

They didn’t know what she was, or what this key that she was looking for was either, but they just knew they couldn’t let her get it.  If it had been important enough to where only Buffy knew about it, they it must do something really bad.  So, she had stayed, fought, and now she was gone to the shadow world, whatever that is.

 

When they called Giles with the news in England, he had been as devastated as Xander could ever be.  The man had tried to explain it to him, but the young man just didn’t understand what a place between heaven and hell was.  Was it purgatory?  Was it bad?  It had to be if they sent Glory there, but he just didn’t know.  He didn’t know anything anymore.

 

Joyce was coming down for the service that Anya suggested they give for the witch.  The two might not have gotten along very well, or any, but she knew how much she meant to Xander, and she loved him.  It would do him good to see Buffy’s mom and kid sister again.  They had been gone for over four months now, and he did miss them.  They were the closest thing that he had to her now, and, with Willow being gone, he would really need them.

 

Anya went around the counter, opened the cash register, and began to count the money inside.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked as he walked over to her.

 

“Counting,” she said flipping through the bills.  “Money makes it better.”

 

Xander smiled slightly.  That was the closet the woman had come to actually saying that she missed Willow or felt bad for what happened to her.

 

He watched her for a long while as she counted.  He hadn’t known Anya as long as Will or Buffy.  In fact, the only reason he had meet her in the first place was because she had come to take vengeance out against him.  Many people wouldn’t think this would the basis for a good relationship, and, at first, he had whole heartedly agreed.

 

 What he and Anya were supposed to have was nothing but a physical relationship with no emotional attachments.  So why did he feel like if something happened to her, he would absolutely die?

 

Somewhere along the way, though he didn’t know when or how, he had fallen in love with the ex demon.  She was honest, happy, a bit clueless at times, not to mention selfish, but she tried.  And he loved her more then anything.

 

“Marry me,” he heard himself blurt out.

 

The young woman stopped what she was doing and looked up at the man that was leaning on the counter.

 

“What?”

 

For a moment, Xander panicked. 

 

What had made him just say that?!  Why would he just say that?  After loosing Willow just a few days ago, he’s here asking Anya to marry him?  How tacky is that?

 

“I shouldn’t have asked like this,” he said ducking his head away.  “I’m-I’m sorry.”

 

“Did you mean it?  Or do you just happy sex?” she asked ignoring his last statement.

 

He thought about it for a moment. 

 

Did he really mean it?  Did he really want to spend the rest of his life with this woman?  Did he want her to have his children?  Did he want to fight with her about what college they would go to?  Did he want share grandchildren with her?  Did he want go bold and fat with her?  The question all echoed the same answer.

 

“Yeah, I meant it,” he said lowly.  “I want to marry you.”

 

A large smile crossed her face.

 

“Then yes.  I will marry you.”

 

*****

 

Lang moved through the charred remains of the lab, cursing to herself under her breath.  She had given Chen one simple assignment to examine the vampire, and this is what happens.  How could he have been so stupid?  She was going to kill him when they found him.

 

The cell-phone at her side rang, and the woman swallowed hard.  That would be her boss, and he would be furious at this new development.  Slowly, she reached down and answered the little black phone.

 

“Lang.”

 

“Dr. Lang,” a man said in a very proper tone.  “I just received the most interesting fax that you can perhaps shed some light on.”

 

The doctor panicked for a moment.  She had heard about the things he had done to people who had failed him before.

 

“Sir-”

 

“Quiet,” he bit at her.  “Now, could you please tell me how you could aloud the two most important prisoners I’ve ever allowed you to have to escape off a supposal inescapable island?”

 

Lang bit the bottom of her lip.

 

“I assigned Chen to examine the vampire and-”

 

“You weren’t with him?  Did I not tell you to always be there when dealing with either the Slayer or the vampire?”

 

“Yes, Sir.  I just became to confident I suppose.”

 

“Go on,” he said evenly.

 

“He wasn’t out, and was making his own escape attempt when Ms Summers came in and began to help him.  They took out two guards, and disappeared with Chen after setting fire to his lab.”

 

The phone was silent for a moment.  Lang could just see him sitting there, deciding what her punishment should be.

 

“When Dr Chen is found, I want him taken care of, is that understood,” he finally said.

 

“Yes, Sir.”

 

“I will send our men out to locate the two missing persons.  They shouldn’t have gotten that far.  Consider your self fortunate, Dr.  But the next time you mess something like this up so bad, the Council will be forced to use more drastic measures.”

 

“I understand, Sir,” she said once more before she hung up the phone on her boss, Quinton Travers.

 

---

Part 6: The Train Ride

 

She stood outside the train station, casually checking her watch every couple minutes and then resuming her search for the missing half of her party.  The station was crowded, and, from somewhere nearby, the smell of cooking noodles was making her sick to her stomach.  Okay, so the kid obviously didn’t like Chinese.

 

The crowd was putting her one edge as well.  Chen had made it very clear that Lang and her lackeys wouldn’t give up so easy on finding them, not that she thought they would.  After all, they went through all this trouble already. Why give up now just because Mommy and Daddy don’t want to play?

 

Mommy and Daddy?  In a million years, she would have never thought that would be her and....him.  How did that happen anyway?  Angel had been very clear on the whole ‘no kiddies’ rule.  Well, she never was one to follow the rules now was she?  Just another barrier broken by dear Buffy Summers.

 

He had taken the news a lot better then she thought he would.  Instead of going over the deep end like she had expected, he had laughed in her face.

 

“Okay, good one, Slayer,” he said on the verge of tears.   “Now who really got you in trouble?  It was Captain Cardboard, right?”

 

Buffy’s eyes narrowed in on him as the anger began to build inside of her.

 

“Spike, I know this might be a bit advance for you, but let’s do some simple math.  I am three months pregnant.  We were on the island for six months.  Unless you think I’m a candidate for immaculate conception-”

 

“But, I can’t have kids.”

 

“That’s what I thought.  But tell that to the little sure to be slayerette growing inside of me.”

 

He looked at her blankly for a moment, the wind from the ocean blowing over the motor boat they had snatched.  The information seemed to be slowly sinking into his thick skull.  He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, opened it again, and then closed again.  To her, he looked like a fish out of water, gasping for air in their water free environment.

 

“Well, if I knew getting knock up would shut you up, I should have tried it a long time ago,” she more to herself then to him. 

 

The statement bleed through more of her fears about this then she really wanted it to.  She could tell he was reading her, like he always seemed able to do whenever she didn’t want anyone to know what she was thinking or going through.  How he managed to look directly past all her barriers, she still did know.  Of course, it wouldn’t take a genius to know she was scared out of her mind.  Scared of being caught, scared of what they would do to her and her child, scared of actually having the child and having to raise it.  Anyway she went, she was terrified.

 

He sighed as he continued to look at her.

 

“Don’t worry, Love.  We’ll make it through this.  We always do.”

 

That had happened last night right before they arrived on China’s main land.  She and Spike didn’t exactly fit in with all the short, dark hair dark eye people, and had decided to lay low in a cheep hotel they had found for the day.  When night rolled around again, he had told her to meet him at the train station in the middle of the busy little town, and he would take care of the arrangements.  She had been waiting for nearly an hour and was getting antsy.

 

All day she had been fighting the urge to call her mother or Giles or anyone she knew to tell them she was alright.  It was too dangerous; she knew that even before Spike had warned her against it.  These guys had caught them in Sunnydale, which meant that they probably would have immediately put tabs on the Scoobies and her family the instant that the news broke that they were gone.  They would just have to wait until the heat was off then try to make it home.

 

She looked down at her watch yet again, and, when she looked up, she found a familiar man standing before her.  Buffy jumped before she realized it was just Spike.  He was different, though.  His once prized shock white hair was cut away to just a dirty blond color.  So that was his natural hair color.  It was amazingly close to hers, when she didn’t high light it that is.

He smirked when he saw he had scared her, but he didn’t press the matter.  Not tonight.

 

“Here,” he said handing her a black wallet like billfold with a ticket sticking out of it.

 

She opened and found a phony passport staring back up at her.

 

“Where’d you get this?”

 

“Used the good doctors cash and bought these off a guy I know that has been hiddin’ out here in China for the past hundred years.  Did a pretty good job on ‘em.”

 

She studied it for a moment.  There were already a couple of stamps on it, making it seem as if she had been a couple of places before here.  The color picture was something that was lacking, but it did look like one some DMV reject had taken it.

 

“Can this guy be trusted?”

 

Spike shrugged.

 

“No.  That’s why he’s havin’ to hide out.  But I don’t think we’ll have to worry about him.”

 

“And why is that?”

 

He smirked, and she didn’t need any more information.  Outwardly, she groaned, inwardly, she rejoiced.  No demon means no leaks.  No leaks means she could get away a lot easier.  She hated that he did it because he did help them, but she would just chalk it up to another dead demon.

 

“Come on, Love,” he said turning away.  “We’re on the nine o’clock.”

 

******

 

Li’s life was never exciting.  Nothing he ever did or said would ever make into the news, and chances are there would only be a few people to morn his passing if something should happen to him.  He worked as a ticket agent for Petes sake, whatever that meant.

 

He bowed at a pair of school girls who had just purchased a ticket for the train to Hong Kong, and prepared for the next person in line.

 

“How may I help you, Sir,” he said respectfully.

 

The large man reached into his black over coat and pulled out a photo.  On it was a pretty young blond girl smiling brightly at the photographer.

 

“Have you seen this woman?” he asked in Chinese, but lacked the accent that of a person who spoke it often.

 

Li studied it for a moment, then slowly shook his head.

 

“I’m sorry, Sir.  She has not passed through here.”

 

The man frowned as he placed it back in his pocket, and pulled out another photo.  This one was a young man, with high cheek bones and deep blue eyes.  Though the photo was fuzzy, he could still make out what he looked like pretty well.

 

“And him?”

 

It took Li a moment.

 

“Yes.  I think I remember seeing him earlier.”

 

“Did he buy a ticket?”

 

“I’m sorry, Sir.  I cannot give out that information.”

 

The man eyed him for a moment, before taking the photo back, and retrieving a black bill fold.  He pulled out a large sum of money, and slid it towards Li.  Everything told Li that he shouldn’t tell this man, but that was a lot money.  He could buy his girlfriend that ring she has been wanting, and pay off his bills with still some left over.  Biting on his bottom lip, he reached out and took it.

 

“Yes, Sir.  He bought a ticket heading out of China I believe.”

 

“Good.  I’ll take three tickets on the same train.”

 

*****

 

She laid her head back against the seat, staring out into the blackness.  Nearly every light in the compartment was off, except for a few overly productive members who were working hard on computers, and the woman who sat across from her who was reading a book.  She was wiped, and would like to try sleeping like so many other people in the compartment had already managed to do, but the child inside of her was kicking and doing somersaults, thus causing no rest for her.  So, she had taken to staring out the window in hopes that it’d stop in a little while and she could sleep.

 

She felt him sit down next to her, then present a cup of dark liquid for her.  For a long moment, she just looked at it before taking it.  To her surprise, he had gotten her a Diet Coke.  She didn’t even know that he knew she liked that.

 

“Thanks,” she said wearily glancing him and then back out the window. 

 

Buffy had caught the grin that had appeared on his face from the simple word, and it took awhile to realize why.  That had been the first time she had ever thanked him for anything.  Well, there’s a first time for everything, she guessed.  Her child was proof of that.

 

Outside, they came across a clearing where she could see a large lake glowing with moonlight and outlining the snow capped mountains that rested behind it.  She bet that during the day it was really something to see.

 

“You didn’t say China was such a pretty country,” she told him as she continued to look.

 

He shrugged.  “Well, if you like this, wait until we get to Prague.”

 

She shifted in her seat again to face him.  “Prague?”

 

“Yeah.  I should still have an account in the bank out there.  It should be enough to at least get us back to the States.  All though I can’t promise that it’s enough to make it to California.  You may have to settle for New York.”

 

“Right now, New York sounds kinda good.  Hot dogs, apple pies, and people who don’t look at me like I’m some sort of foreign devil.”

 

He chuckled lowly to himself as he leaned back in his own chair.  “That’s such a stigma, love.  I thought you were better then that.”

 

She thought a moment.  “Yeah.  So did I.  Guess it must be the hormones or something.”

 

That had gotten his attention again.  He hadn’t said a word about the kid since she told him the night before.  She had just thought it was because he was still having to adjust to the idea, she knew she had to when she found out.  But she found herself wanting him to say anything about it.  If it was good, which she really didn’t expect, she thought that maybe she would feel better knowing that maybe she’d actually get through this.  If it were bad, she beat him to a bloody pulp, then they’d go from there.

 

Buffy grunted slightly when the kid landed a kick square into her ribs.  She made a face as she placed her hand over her stomach and shifted in her seat to try and make the kid move.  That was when she noticed him looking at her oddly.

 

“I think Junior here decided to practice his round houses,” she explained, “unfortunately, it’s right against my ribs.”

 

“Hasn’t even been born yet and all ready it’s makin’ your life hell,” he said.

 

“Guess that proves that its your kid then,” she smirked sarcastically.

 

He smiled as he shook his head.  “Yeah, guess it does.”

 

The kid punched her hard, then kicked again.  It hadn’t been this active in a long time.  In fact, she could never remember it doing anything like this before.  Finally, she just couldn’t stand it any more.

 

“Move,” she told him as she pushed past him into the aisle.

 

“You alright, pet?”

 

“Yeah, just need to move,” she said as she let herself stretch out.  “Where’d you get the Coke?”

 

“Two cars up.  Go down the stairs to the lower level, there’s a little bar set up there.”

 

“Good.  And, Spike.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Don’t call me pet.”

 

“Whatever you say....love.”

 

*****

 

Spike watched as she walked away from him and sighed.  Things had gone from weird to Twilight Zone in less then forty eight hours, and he had no idea how to deal with any of it.  Forty eight hours ago, he was sitting in his cell, and had finally decided that he had enough of these Area 51 rejects and was going to make a break for it.  Twenty four hours ago, he had executed his plan, and got some surprise help from the Slayer.  Twenty hours ago she had told him something he would have never dreamed of hearing from any woman lips, let alone from her, she was pregnant, and it was his.  Logic had said that she must be lying, but that look of disgust and desperation for him to believe her had said other wise.  Two hours ago, he had bought two tickets to New Delhi.  And two minutes ago, they had had the first conversation without any hint of screaming or threat of violence.  Yeah, this was defiantly the Twilight Zone.

 

How in the world did all this come about?  How could it come about?  He was a vampire, he couldn’t have kids.  At least, that was what he had always thought.  Of course, he had never been with anyone where it was a possibility to find out.  Until now and guess what.

 

Oh, won’t the Watcher be so happy when a kid that looks like him comes running up to him with his arms open calling him Grandpa Giles.  The look on his face would be priceless.  He’d have to remember to bring a camera for that one and for the Whelp when he finds out.  That is, if he doesn’t find himself on the pointy end of stake the second the words come out of her mouth about Juniors’ father.

 

Junior.  That’s what she had called the child a few minutes before.  He wondered if that meant that she knew she was having a boy.  Wouldn’t that be something?  A little boy with light blond hair, his deep blue eyes, and Buffy’s nose.  When the kid hit his teenage years, he’d have to beat the ladies off with stick, he would.  After all, it would be his son.

 

His son.  Two words that he would have never put together.  He’d given up on that a hundred and twenty years ago when he crossed over, and, to be truthful, he never gave it another thought.  When you’re immortal, leaving someone behind that’s a part of you just doesn’t seem that important anymore.  After all, you’re not going anywhere, at least for a very, very, very long time.  But now, he did have something, someone, and it was the strangest sensation he had ever had in his whole life and un.  He felt everything, happy, nervous, excited, dread, worry, and they were all amplified a hundred fold.  He wondered if they Slayer felt like that.

 

Sure she did.  She was his mother after all.  He chuckled again to himself.  Him and the Slayer.  Who’d ever thought?

 

When she had told him that the kid was kicking her, he was tempted to ask her if he could feel.  He was curious, and besides, wasn’t that normal for a father to want to feel his kid kicking inside of its mother?  He didn’t though.  She probably would have hit him or something.

 

Spike closed his eyes, holding onto the glass of scotch he had bought a couple of minutes before, as the thoughts all swirled in his head.  He’d been thinking about her and the kid all day.  He wondered if she knew that, or cared.

 

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as he slowly began to recognize another feeling he hadn’t had in a long while.  There was a demon nearby, he could tell.  Three of them, in fact, and closing fast. 

 

He jumped out of his seat, nearly spilling the scotch on himself as he looked around, trying to decide which way they were heading from.  The car behind them, and they would be there soon.  Well, he’d just have to be somewhere else.

 

******

 

Buffy was coming up the stairs, carrying a fresh coke, when he ran into her.  Her eyes widen in surprise as he hurried down, and started to motion for her to go back down with him.

 

“Down,” he said as he basically turned her around and pushed her down the stairs.

 

“Spike?  What’s going on?”

 

“Demons, love,” he told her as he pushed her into the smoking section of the car, which was, thankfully, empty.  “Three of ‘em.”

 

“Three?  That’s not so bad.  We can handle three.”

 

“I can handle three.  You just stay out of the way.”

 

“What?!  I’m the Slayer.  That’s my job, not yours!”

 

He turned to her, giving her the iciest stare he could muster.

 

“And you’ve got yourself in the family way, which means no slayin’ for you for awhile.”

 

She crossed her arms, returning the stare.

 

“The family way?  Who are you?  Grandpa Moses?”

 

“Slayer-!”

 

“There!”

 

The two turned to see three large men standing in the doorway, all dressed in black leather and looking as if they are ready for a fight.  Both of them instinctively fell back into fighting stance, though Spike growled slightly when he saw she was preparing to fight as well.  She rolled her eyes at the sound.

 

She pointed her finger at the three in the door, “Fight now,” then she waved the finger between herself and Spike, “fight later.”

 

He didn’t have time to protest with her.  Right now, they did have more pressing matters to deal with.

 

Two of the demons flanked out as the obvious lead stood between them and the way out.

 

“Don’t hurt them,” he told the other two.  “They want them both back in one piece.”

 

“Oh, here that, Spike.  They don’t want to hurt us.”

 

“Real worried there, love.”

 

The two that had flanked out approached them slowly, and Buffy watched as hers shifted on his feet with a murderous look on his face. She could hear Spike and his already fighting, but this one wasn’t doing anything. He looked at her for a long time, and finally she grew tired of it.

 

“Well, you going to fight, or just stand there all night.”

 

He stepped forward and through a right cross at her, which ducked easily buy dropping down.  On her way back up, she landed a punch to the stomach, knocking the creatures’ breath out.  As he lay doubled over, she grabbed the back of his shirt and through him into wall with a loud thud.  She could hear a crack from his neck breaking upon impact.

 

She glanced over at Spike and saw him holding his own against the other demon, but she was already tired of this and wanted it over.  Buffy began to approach them when she felt someone grab her from behind.  It was the leader of the group, and he held her close to him with her arms locked behind her back.

 

“You’re all we really need,” he whispered into her ear before turning to the other demon and yelling, “Finish him off.”

 

That was when she spotted the stake in the demons hand.  She gritted her teeth together.  There was absolutely no way she was going to do this alone.  She didn’t care if it was Spike, she was not going to raise a child alone.  She had seen her mother do that, and she wouldn’t be able to take it.

 

Buffy drew her head forward, then smashed it back into the guys face.  He let out a yelp in surprise as she broke his nose, and loosens his grip just long enough for her to get away.  She spun around to face him, and smashed her fist in his face before he could even react.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Spike gain control of the guys arm that held the stake, and caused the demon to slam the stick into his own chest.  He let out a small groan as he sank to the ground, and finally died.  The bleach blond then came to help her.

 

Buffy hit the demon with a hard left hook, sending his head hard and fast to the right, where it meet Spike’s right cross.  The demon sank to his knees, and Spike maneuvered behind him and snapped his neck to where his head was all the way around his body. 

 

“Well, that was fun,” she said sarcastically as she sank down into one of the bench seats.  Though it wasn’t much of a fight, it still took a lot out of her.  Then she noticed that the baby had settled down, and wasn’t even moving at all now the demons were gone.  That was weird.

 

“Yeah, real fun,” Spike said as he rolled the last demon they kill over and went through his pockets.

 

“What is it about you and robbing dead people?”

 

“I’m not robbin’ them, love,” he told her when he finally found what he was looking for.  “I’m searchin’ for information.  If I happen to find some cash, lucky me.”

 

She rolled her eyes as he opened up the paper he had found.  He read over it quickly, then sighed.

 

“Just what I thought,” he said handing it over to her.

 

Buffy read over it quickly and frowned.

 

“Didn’t take Lang long to get the word out, did it.”

 

“We didn’t think it would,” he told her as she stood up and shoved the piece of paper into her pocket.

 

“So what now?  I’m guessing they know we’re on this train.”

 

He shrugged.  “Get off at the next stop, I suppose.  There’s a lot of people in China.  We’ll use that to our advantage.”

 

“Yeah, how?  We don’t look like any of them.”

 

“Doesn’t matter.  People are people.  Come on.  Let’s get out of here before someone decided to come down for a smoke.”

 

---

 

Part 7: Cold Winters Month.

 

A chill nipped at Joyce as she walked through the cemetery to the plot in the far back.  She was gripping tightly onto the flowers she had brought, hoping that the frost wouldn’t kill them by the next morning.

 

She found the plot and gently laid them on top of the grass that had long since taken root.  Joyce didn’t like the fact that they didn’t have a body to bury, but, like the police had explained, the surf that night had been ruff, and she was probably dragged out into the ocean from it.  Instead, all they had was the jacket, which was what rested six feet below her in a box Xander had carved himself.

 

She reached up and brushed away a few stray leaves that had rested themselves on the headstone as she read it for, what seemed like, the millionth time.

 

Buffy Anne Summers

1981-2001

Beloved Daughter and Sister

She Saved The World...A lot.

 

Joyce couldn’t help but smile at the last part.  That had been Xander’s exact words when he gave the eulogy at the small service they had held.  It was so true that Joyce had asked them to put it on the stone.  She knew that the engravers probably thought she was nuts, but it didn’t matter.  That was her daughter, and that was what she did, she deserved a phrase that was strictly hers.

 

“Hi, Honey,” she said as if she could hear her. 

 

Well, people talk to these graves all the time, most not realizing that half of them were empty.  At least she knew her daughter wasn’t buried under this dirt.  Just a jacket, but that was all she had.

 

“I just thought I stop by on my way to the church.  Yeah, the big day’s finally here.  Xander and Anya are actually getting married.  I hope they’re happy together.  Dawn’s already there, or she would have been here with me.  You should see her, Buffy.  She’s grown up so much.”

 

She paused for a moment.  Dawn, her baby girl, wasn’t really her child and still blissfully ignorant to the fact.  Well, looks like mom did get to help her daughter in her slaying duties after all.  She got to protect something that is more valuable then anything to them.

 

“She’s actually Anya’s maid of honor, you know.  She was pretty excited about it, until she saw that awful green dress that Anya’s making her wear,” Joyce laughed.  “I don’t think she’ll ever forgive her for that one.”

 

There was another pause as Joyce looked around at the other graves.  Some looked like they had been neglected for years, while, others, looked as if someone had been there just before she arrived.  There was crypt off in the distance, which caused the woman to frown.

 

She wondered whatever happened to Spike.  He had disappeared about the same time Buffy had, and none of them had heard a word since then.  They were all so trouble over what had happened to the slayer and with Glory to even notice he left, until Dawn said something about going to see him one afternoon only to find him gone.  Her youngest hadn’t been happy about his sudden departure, and Joyce hadn’t either, but, with the others, there hadn’t been in real loss of love.  In fact, she had caught Xander doing a ‘happy dance’ at the news of his disappearance and she thoroughly scolded him for it.

 

She drugged her thoughts away from the missing vampire, and turned them back to her beautiful daughter.

 

“Well, I can’t stay long.  I just wanted to bring these by.  I’ll be back in a few days though, I promise.  After all, it’s almost Christmas, and Dawn wants to put up a little Christmas tree for you because she knew how much you loved them.”

 

She stood from her crouching position, and dusted off her nice black pants that had a few shreds of grass clinging onto it. 

 

Running her hand across the top of the grave, she said, “I love you.”

 

Then, she walked back out the way she came, hoping she wasn’t going to be late for the children wedding.

 

******

 

Prague.

 

It was snowing hard in the Czech city.  The news had said it was near white out conditions, whatever that meant.  All she knew was that it was cold, and she was having problems seeing things past a block.  Spike had been right about it being a pretty place, but she hadn’t gotten to see much it from the snow.  Well, she always did want a white, white Christmas, and not one that it only snowed to save her suicidal boyfriend.

 

She passed a fat Santa who was mechanically ringing his bell for people to drop money into the little red pot beside him.  Must be this countries version of the Red Cross giving, was only thing she could figure.  He laughed hardily, with one hand on his large stomach, but the effect was pretty much ruined by his wearing of a brown Browning coat.

 

Buffy passed over a cobble stone bridge and headed towards a town house that looked like ever other one on the street.  A few children were playing in the snow, but there wasn’t a lot of room for them to move that wasn’t in the middle of the street.  At least there wasn’t a lot of traffic that afternoon, or they would probably have a real problem.

 

She headed up the salted down stoop and into the townhouse.  It was much warmer inside, and she was happy to be able to shed a few layers of clothing upon her return.

 

“I’m back,” she called into the house as she pulled off the leather duster and hung it up.  A few stray snowflakes fell from the coat, but she ignored it and headed into the adjoining living room.

 

This room was even warmer then the other, mainly due to the large fire that was burning.  And she didn’t even have to turn on the air conditioner to have one, she thought with a grin.  She walked around the couch that sat directly in front of the fireplace, and maneuvered herself down.  It wasn’t easy, considering she was moving with the beach ball that was her stomach, but she finally managed, and she would swear her feet actually sighed in relief.

 

“‘ello, love,” Spike said coming out of the kitchen, carrying a smoking mug with him.  “Back already?”

 

“Yeah, it’s too bad to stay out for to long,” she said as she started to pull off her black gloves.  “Doc did a quick once over, and sent me home.”

 

“Oh,” he said as he came to sit by her.  She glanced into the cup that he had, and smiled when she saw it was hot chocolate instead of blood like she had expected.  Quickly, she snatched away from him, and began to drink.  After all, she was the one that could feel cold, and she defiantly was.  “What’d he say?”

 

She shrugged as she pulled the cup away from her mouth and balanced it on her stomach with both her hand still holding it.  “Nothing much, just that the kid dropped a little, but it would probably be still a couple of weeks before Junior here is born.”

 

The child kicked, nearly causing her to spill the hot drink in her lap. 

 

“Hey, you make me spill this and you’re born grounded,” she said to her stomach.  She paused for a moment as she considered what she had just said.  “Guess it’s more like me then I thought.”

 

She glanced over at him, to see what his reaction to her comment was, but he had this strange look on his face.  There had been times over the past couple of months where she had seen it before, and usually it was whenever she was complaining about the kid moving around or hitting and kicking her.  For the longest time, she couldn’t figure out what the look was, but she knew now.  She drew in her bottom lip as she took the cup off her stomach and placed it on the small end table at the end of the couch.

 

“Give me your hand,” she ordered.

 

“What?”

 

“You heard me.”

 

When he hesitated, she reached over, grabbed his hand, and placed it on top of her swollen belly.  The instant he touched her, the kid kicked as hard as she had ever felt it.  He jerked his hand in surprise, and then a smile grew on his face.  She couldn’t help but smile as the child kicked again, and he held his hand flat to feel it.

 

“Kid’s got some legs,” he said proudly.

 

“You’re telling me,” she grinned.  “Try living through it for six months.  I’m surprise I don’t have, like, internal bleeding or something from the beatings.  I swear it’s bruised my ribs on more then one occasion.”

 

His trademark sly smile crossed his lips.

 

“Yes.  That is my child.”

 

She rolled her eyes.  Yup, he was most defiantly proud that the kid could bruise her ribs, just like she thought he would be.  To be honest, she was kind of to.  It was going to be strong; there was no doubt about that.  With its parents being who they are, and that crazy Dr Lang and her goons looking for them, it was a good thing. 

 

“Yeah, well, that’s what I told you in the first place,” she sighed as she laid back and tried to get more comfortable.

 

“That you did, love,” he agreed as he laid back himself.  She took notice he didn’t take his hand off her stomach, but she didn’t say anything.  “That you did.”

 

******

 

London

 

Lang felt nervous as she walked down the hall of the large building in London.  Six months-six months!-and they were still on the loose.  She knew Travers wasn’t happy about this.  She wasn’t happy about this, but what was she going to do?  They were no closer to finding them then they were yesterday, when the latest bounty hunter came back empty handed.

 

They had been on their trail for awhile.  When they first got out, they had found them on a train to New Delhi, only to have the hunters to come up dead.  Then, they found them in Tibet; once again, the hunters are dead.  India, dead.  Down to Turkey, dead.  Over to Israel, dead.  And the last place, Greece, dead wasn’t really the word to describe it.  It was more like massacred.  They were probably growing as tired of the chase as she was.

 

The child would be born in the next few weeks, so she knew they would be unable to leave Europe before then.  But this was a big land with a lot of people, people who looked like them.  If they could hide in Asia and the Middle East undiscovered, blending in here should be even easier.

 

She reached the office, straitened her jacket, and approached the desk where a pretty, young blond woman sat with a phone up to her ear.  The girl held up her hand for Lang to wait until she finished, which was a moment later.  She looked at her with a large, fake smile, and said, “Can I help you?”

 

“Dr. Janna Lang to see Mr. Travers,” she said politely like she was always taught to do.

 

The girl looked down at an open book in front of her.  “Oh, yes, Dr. Lang.  He is excepting you.  If you will just follow me.”

 

She opened the door to the adjoining office and Lang saw Travers waiting for her.  He had a large book opened up in front of himself, but didn’t look up when she entered.

 

“Dr. Lang to see you, Sir,” the secretary told him.

 

“Thank you, Lindsey,” he said, continuing to read.  “That will be all.”

 

The girl nodded her head, and slipped out the door without another word, closing it firmly behind herself.  Lang cautiously approached the man, stopping just short of his desk.

 

“Have a seat, Dr. Lang,” he said, which she complied too quickly.  Finally, he looked up from the book and stared at her as he brought his hands up and locked them together.  “So, what news do you bring for me today?”

 

She swallowed and then said, “We have a lead.  We think they may be in Czechoslovakia, Prague, to be exact.”

 

He leaned back in his chair.  “Yes, that would make since.  The vampire has a history in the city.  Anything else?”

 

She brought her briefcase up into her lap and popped the locks.  Sliding a piece of paper towards him, she continued, “I had my men go over this three times.  They say that the comet will be passing over in less then three days, but, Sir, the child isn’t due until the twenty-eight.  That’s another two weeks away.  Are you sure that we are correct in the matter of who it will be?”

 

Travers read over it before looking up Lang with an evil trying to be kind smile.

 

“Dr. Lang, you know as well as I do, that it has to be the Slayer.  It can be no one else.”

 

“What of that Darla woman and the miracle child?” she asked before she could stop herself.  When the stare turned icy, she barely managed to continue.  “She was human and was able to carry a half breed.”

 

“Darla wasn’t human, my dear lady,” he corrected coldly.  “She was a vampire who kept her humanity because she was pregnant.”

 

He took the paper and read it over again.

 

“I’ll send my best men to retrieve them.  No offense, Lang, but your men have been coming up dead for the past six months.”  The doctor barely kept herself from frowning at the statement.  Didn’t he mean his men were ending up dead?  She hadn’t sent a single group after them yet, but she was getting blamed for this.  He continued, “I think its time we send in some real professionals to take care of this.”

 

She nodded her head in agreement.  “Very well, Sir.”

 

The Asian woman stood and turned to leave when he called to her.  She stood half way across the room and looked over her should at him.

 

“Lang, when the child is born, it will be brought here and will not be given back to you.  The parents will be returned, but the child stays.  Any child after that is yours to do with as you wish, but not this first one.  Do you understand?”

 

Somewhere in her mind, she had known all along that it would come down to this.  As much as she had convinced herself that she would get to examine and see the child grow and develop, she always knew that Travers would take it away from her before she really had a chance.  After all, it had a destiny and all.

 

“Of course, Sir,” she said evenly.

 

“Good.  Have a nice afternoon, Dr. Lang.”

 

“You to, Mr. Travers,” she answered as she hurried and left.

 

---

 

Part 8: The Blood Red Snow

 

She sat Indian style in front of the fireplace, doing her best to untangle the string of lights that had now decided to make a collective ball of knots at her feet.  A few days ago, Ekaterina, their neighbor, had dropped by and made a comment about the lack of decoration in their home.  Buffy had made a quick excuse about not having any decorations since they hadn’t been married for that long, and the woman had come by that afternoon with a whole box of stuff for her to put up.

 

That was their cover story. They were a married couple who had just moved there for a job.  She could kill Spike for letting him talk her into playing along with it, but it did feel better that people didn’t look at her like she was some kind of whore when they found out she was pregnant and not married.  What happened to all those open minded people on TV who thought it was okay for a woman to have a kid by herself?  Apparently they only did excise only TV.

 

She knew Ekaterina had meant well, but this really was a pain in the butt.  Why couldn’t the woman at least have her husband untangle these things before letting her borrow them?  Yet another one of those great mysteries in life.

 

Kind of like what happened to Spike account here.  By the time they arrived in Prague, she had already been in her seventh month, thanks to the zigzagging they had to do with Lang’s people following them, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to travel home then.  Still, when she was able, she wanted the first flight back to the States.  Spike had gone to the bank to withdraw his money, only to find that a good chunk of it was gone.  Apparently, the minion he and Dru had left there back in ‘97 had decided for a little restitution and robbed him blind.  There was still enough for them to rent a fairly nice place to live for awhile, but it was going to take more then that to get them home.  Really, could her life get any better?

 

“Ugh!” she groaned loudly when one knot infuriated her as she picked at it.  “Stupid lights.  Probably don’t even work anyway,” she muttered before taking a hold of the lights and shaking them.  “Come loose, damn you!”

 

“And you thought I was crazy for swearin’ at the telly?” she heard Spike say from behind her.  Great, just what she wanted to deal with at that moment.

 

“You weren’t swearing that ‘the telly’,” she said in a bad mock accent.  “You were swearing at those stupid soap opera characters.  You do know that they can’t hear you, right?”

 

He smirked at her as he came over and took the lights from her grasp.  She sighed in relief when she didn’t have to deal with them any more, and went back to the box that was still filled with other decorations.

 

“Tell me, why I’m sittin’ ‘ere untanglin’ Christmas tree lights?  We don’t even have a Christmas tree,” he said after awhile.

 

“Ekaterina dropped them off earlier this afternoon,” she told him.  “You know how she’s been dropping by lately.  It’d hurt her feelings if we didn’t put them up somewhere.”

 

“And of course we don’t want to hurt the old birds feelin’s,” he said sarcastically as he finally got out the knot she was having so much trouble with.  He grinned at her in triumph as she glared at him for being able to do something she was unable to and the little comment.

 

“Just untangle the lights, you ungrateful dead,” she answered.

 

Buffy reached into the box, when she felt her stomach cringe tightly.  It felt weird, a lot like cramps or something, so she tried to shake it way from her thought.  But it wouldn’t go away.  It just got worse, a whole lot worse, and very quickly.

 

She drew in a sharp hard breath and crunched her face up as the pain hit her head on.  She had taken some pretty bad blows before, and been near death a time or two, but it was nothing compared to this.  As the breath slowly escaped her, she heard herself say, “Ow, ow, ow.”  Then it finally passed.

 

“Love?” Spike said from beside her.  She had forgotten he was even there.

 

“I’m fine.  I think I’ve just been sitting like this for to long,” she lied as she tried to get herself up, but failed miserably.  “A little help?”

 

He got to his feet and helped to hers.

 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again.  Was that worry in his voice?

 

Buffy had been so surprised by how gentle and worried his tone had been that it took her a moment to react.  “Um, yeah, it’s okay.  I’m just going to get, um, something to drink from the kitchen.”

 

He searched her face, before he nodded his head.  “Alright.  You just waddle yourself into the kitchen then.”

 

Her eyes grew wide in anger and surprise.  “I do not waddle!” she protested.  “I....shift.”

 

“That’s waddlin’, love,” he smirked. 

 

She made a face at him and left as he continued to grin.  Why did he always have to be like that?  Why couldn’t he just be nice for once in his undead life?!  But nooo, he has to still make sarcastic remarks even when she looked like she could go into labor at any moment.  Stupid, blood sucking, son of a...

 

She stopped mid-thought when she felt it.  Oh, no!  Not now!  Slowly, she turned and went back to the doorway between the living room and the kitchen and stood there with a slightly surprised look on her face.

 

“Um, Spike,” she said.

 

He looked up from the lights that he had gone back to working on.

 

“What?  Forget how to work the stove without cursin’ at it?”

 

“No,” she said slowly shaking her head.  She was only half listening to him as the information processed in her mind.  “I think...no, I’m pretty sure...”

 

She stopped, her mind refusing to believe it and her being unable to push it out of her mouth to make it real.

 

“What?” he asked, starting to sound really annoyed.  “That the kitchen needs to be painted pink?  What?”

 

She looked at him as if for the first time.  He was annoyed at her, and that kind of seemed reassuring.

 

“My water just broke,” she said calmly.

 

******

 

Dawn sat the table in the middle of the magic shop, her books scattered before her as she tried her best to concentrate on studying for her exam’s that started next week.  It was hard to do, though, especially this time of year.

 

Yes, being that Christmas and vacation had something to do with it, but that wasn’t everything.  Last week had marked the year anniversary since...since Buffy left.  It had been a hard on the whole group when the day came. 

 

Giles had closed the shop early and took herself and her mother out for the evening to try and keep their minds off of it.  Her dad even called and told him that he was thinking about them and wanted to see how they were doing.  Just to get a phone call from the great Hank Summers is something in itself.  Tara, Xander, and Anya had gone with them, and the whole thing actually turned into a great tribute to the late great Buffy Summers.  All in all, it turned out kind of nice, bringing almost a closer to the whole thing.

 

The newly married couple had brought even more good news that night when they remembered her sister.  Anya, the ex-vengeance demon and the new Mrs. Harris, was pregnant.  She was a little over two months, and was going to wait until after the wedding, but she said everyone was so depressed that it looked like they could use some good news.  In a way, that helped too.  They were celebrating the end of someone else’s life, and the beginning of a new one.

 

Anya was behind the counter, doing her usual thing as she counted out the money the store had made that day from the Holiday sells.  She and Xander had been married the weekend before, but their Honeymoon wasn’t until after the beginning of the New Year.  She had explained that it was busy time, and she just couldn’t leave Giles right at that moment, else he probably be curled up in the fetal position in a corner by the time she got back.  He had assured her he would be fine, but, once Anya’s mind was made up, it was made up.

 

The bell rang announcing Tara’s arrival.  She had a thick coat bundled tightly around her small body, and looked like she was half frozen.

 

“I-I didn’t know it got this cold in Sunnydale,” she said as she pulled off the jacket and hung it up on the coat rack.

 

“It usually isn’t,” Dawn told her as the blonde came to join her at the table.  “Don’t you remember last Christmas?  I had shorts on.”

 

“She’s right,” Anya piped up.  “The last time it was this cold, was my first Christmas here and it snowed.  I didn’t enjoy that.  I liked it being warm.”

 

“It only snowed because Angel was trying to make himself a crispy critter because of the First.  The PTB’s had to stop it somehow,” Dawn told her.

 

“Well, they could have chosen a warmer way,” Anya pouted as she came from behind the counter and went to restocking the shelves.

 

Dawn rolled her eyes slightly as Tara just smiled her sweet smile.

 

“Well, that’s interesting,” Giles said as he came out of the storage room, reading a book he carried in one hand, and carrying a cup of coffee in the other.

 

“What’s that?” Dawn asked. She was glad to have any distraction from school work.

 

He looked up from the text, as if noticing her presence for the first time. “Oh,” he said as he set the cup of coffee on the counter and took the book with both hands.  “I was doing some research while we had this time with the demon population being so quiet, and I came across this old prophecy.”

 

“Don’t you always,” the teen muttered to herself, but no one but Tara heard it.  She giggled lowly at Dawn’s comment, and the girl decided press on.  “I swear, it’s like Giles is Prophecy ‘R Us guy.  I don’t know what he’d do if he ever ran out of them.”

 

As Tara really began to laugh, Giles cleared his throat to let Dawn know that he had heard her, and child sunk back in embarrassment.  “As I was saying, this prophecy comes from the Codex, the one Angel brought to me in Buffy’s first year of slaying.  I can’t believe I never noticed it before.”

 

“Well, we never really had a slow time before,” Dawn pointed out.  “I mean, it’s always something.  The Master, Angelus, the Mayor, Adam, that Glory woman.  I mean, I think this is the first year where we haven’t had a super bad guy to deal with.  Just...vampires, and Faith pretty much has control on them.”

 

“Agreed,” Giles said.  “Things have appeared to have quieted down since...well.”

 

Since Willow got sucked into who knows where, Dawn added silently.  When Glory disappeared, so did all the badness that was plaguing the town since Buffy died.  Now that she was gone, Faith, who had gotten paroled soon after, hadn’t had much to do but slay vamps.  She knew that the girl was getting bore with it, and she wouldn’t be surprise if she left soon and just let the Scoobies take over the vampire slayage.

 

She was the first to speak.  “So, what’s it say?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“The prophecy, Giles.  What’s it say?”

 

“Oh, um,

Seven days before the birth of Love,

When the gods trace their finger across the sky,

The dark angel will come,

And bring death and life to all.

Daughter to the last,

Sister to the first,

The perfect warrior,

With a will of her own.

A light, a darkness,

She is a shadow.

Existing from both,

Living for one.

 

Her life will not be her own,

She fights for right.

Alone she walks,

Together they stand.

Until the end.

The bitter end.

For she is the angel,

Sent to save us all.

The angel, the dark angel.”

 

The silence returned, as the group took in what he had just read.

 

“That’s about the Slayer, isn’t it?” Anya finally spoke up.

 

“One of them, yes,” Giles said.  “Which one, I don’t know.”

 

“Save us?” Dawn asked quietly.  “Save us from what?”

 

“Once again, I do not know, Dawn.  I don’t even know when or if this will come to pass.  You know how prophecies have a tendency to be....off.”

 

“Yeah,” she agreed with a sigh.  “I know.”

 

The teen turned her head away from the man and looked out the window.  Her eyes widen when she saw what was happening.

 

“Hey, guys look!” she said as she got out of her seat and headed over to the glass for a better look.  The other came and joined her.  Falling gently and covering the land with a white sheet, was snow.

 

******

 

Panic.  That was the first thing he felt when she said those four simple words.  That was what he was fighting when he stood there waiting for that blasted taxi to get there.  That was what he was going through as they traveled up the slick, snow covered roads towards the hospital.  It was ridiculous, really.  He was a hundred and twenty year old vampire, and he was panicking.  Vampires don’t panic, not masters anyway.

 

At first, when she told him that her water had broken, she looked as if she didn’t believe it herself, like it was never supposed to happen.  Probably because the moment she said those words, it made things real, this was really happening.  She was about to give birth, to his child, and it was happening now.  Not later, not even tomorrow, but now.

 

On the cab ride there, her shocked and even expression had changed over to fright and his familiar panic.  The slayer, the woman he had seen stand down Adam, a creature with the power of a god, and the tiny girl who had sent Angelus on a one way ticket to hell, was frighten and panicking.  Well, that defiantly wasn’t good. 

 

One of them had to be calm, but why did it have to be him?  Calm was not something he was good at.  He was even worse at keeping someone else calm.  But you have to do what you have to do sometimes.

 

She drew in a hard, sharp, deep breath and scrunched her face up from the pain as she let it out slowly.  There was no mistaken the panic there.

 

“Hey, it’ll be alright, Slayer,” he told her as calmly as he could, but he didn’t know how the tone came out.

 

“That’s easy for you to say,” she said through her teeth, angry that he would say such a stupid thing.  “You’re not the one who feels like your insides are being ripped out slowly.”

 

From the front seat, the cab driver chuckled.

 

“First kid, hu?” he said in Slavic language.

 

“Yeah,” Spike answered him, but still tried to keep his attention on the slayer.

 

“Don’t worry. My wife and I went though the same thing with our first.  Wait until she starts to swear that she’s never going to let you touch her again.  They all say that about at the ninth or tenth centimeter.  They never mean though.  Else I wouldn’t have five children to prove it.”

 

“Trust me, mate.  When she says it, she means it,” he told the driver, who chucked again.

 

“What’s he saying?” Buffy asked as she breathed through pain.

 

“Nothin’ important,” he told her.

 

The cab came to a stop in front of the hospital, and he was out of the car before it came to stop, and trying to help her.  Standing off to the side where a couple of orderly, who went into action as soon as they saw the very pregnant woman emerge from the cab.  They had in her in a wheelchair, pushing her inside before she knew what was happening, as Spike paid the cab driver.  He turned to leave when the driver called out to him.

 

“Oh, Son,” reluctantly, he came back to the rolled down window.  “If she wants you to hold her hand during this, don’t do it.”

 

“Why?” he asked before looking in the back seat.  Buffy had grabbed a hold of the cage between the font seat and the back seat and had literally bent the steal.  His eyes widen for a moment, then he looked at the driver and said, “Thanks for the warning, mate.”

 

“No problem.  And good luck.”

 

******

 

The men sat across from the hospital’s emergency entrance and watched as the cab pulled up, a very pregnant blonde hair girl got out with a man with high cheek bones.  A dark hair man brought the binoculars away from his face and glanced over at the man who sat next to him.  With a slight nod, the man in the drivers’ seat picked up his cell phone and dialed.

 

“We’ve got them,” he said in a gruff voice.

 

“Good,” the man on the other end answered.  “Don’t let them out of your sight.”

 

“Yes, Sir,” he said as he hung up and the two men and the young woman who sat in the back, got out of the car and headed inside.

 

---

 

Part 9: The Innocent

 

She laid in the hospital bed, already exhausted from all this, and it hadn’t even really begun.  Upon her arrival, they had given her something to help with the pain that was more intense then anything she had ever felt before in her life.  Her mom and Aunt Julie were not lying when they said that childbirth is the absolute worse pain you can ever go through.  Buffy learned her lesson.  Next time, listen to your mother.  She knows what she’s talking about.

 

The drugged up, blonde slayer hadn’t seen Spike since administration nurse cornered him and forced him to fill out a pile of papers.  She knew he couldn’t possibly know half the stuff they were going to ask him about her, but, hopefully, he’d know enough to get by with.

 

When they finally figured out that she didn’t speak a word of the Slavic language, they sent in a doctor that spoke broken English.  Buffy had always been taught that English was the international language.  So why was it hardly anybody in this freaking hospital spoke it?!

 

“Mrs. Summers?” the doctor said with a thick accent.  “I, ah, look.”

 

“What?” she asked not understanding.

 

The doctor brought his hands together, and pointed out two fingers, then spread them apart.

 

“Oh, okay,” she said nodding her head and he went to work.

 

When he came back up, he looked at her with a smile and said, “You fast girl.”  Then he started to yell at the door, to the nurse who nodded and disappeared into the hallway.  Buffy had no idea what was going on, as the nurse reappeared with several others who brought a gurney with them.

 

“Wait, what’s going on?”

 

It took a moment for the doctor to understand what she had asked, and he told her, “Delivery.”

 

“What?  Now?!”

 

He nodded his head as the men slid her over onto the moveable bed, though she was protesting the whole way.  As they pushed her out into the hall, she began to search frantically for the ex-bleach blond who was suppose to be there at that minute, if, nothing else, translating for her what the doctor was saying.

 

“Come on, fang face,” she said lowly as they pushed her into a different corridor.  “Where are you?”

 

******

 

He grumbled as he gave the annoying nurse her valuable papers and headed in the direction she said they had taken Buffy.  The slayer was going to kill him if he was late for this.  After all, she needed someone there who she could beat with her slayer strength and not actually kill.  He was qualified for that, considering that he was already dead.

 

Spike turned down a hall and come to a complete stop when he saw two men, dressed in black over coats and matching suits, speaking to one of the nurses.  A young woman was standing away from them, keeping an eye out, and spotted him.

 

“There!” she said pointing before she came charging at him.

 

Damn.  He thought they would have a little time before those nitwits figured out that they were hiding out in Prague.  Why did they have to find them now?  They couldn’t wait one more bloody day.

 

He turn and hurried back down the way he came and ducked into the stair well he had spotted earlier.  He had to lead them away from Buffy.  The last thing she needed to deal with at that moment was these crazy goons going after her when she was in the middle of labor.  They followed close behind, taking the same two steps at a time that he was as he charged upward.  He finally came to the last level and charged out onto the snow covered roof.  At least there, he stood a chance of being able to beat them from all the room, plus no nosey doctors and nurse snooping about to see what was going on.

 

He ducked on the other side of shed, the snow hitting him hard in the face as the icy wind slapped those who ventured out.  There was a problem with these guys.  Unlike the others, they were humans, he could tell by their sent and the way the blood was rushing through their veins.  Human, one hundred percent. 

 

Okay, so what’s your brilliant plan, mate?  Let them watch as you have a massive migraine attack if you try to fight back?

 

He just had to keep them away from Buffy, that was all that mattered. 

 

The two men flanked out from behind the young woman, he could hear one taking the right of the roof as the other took the left.  The girl traveled strait forward.  If he could get past them back into the stairwell, maybe he could lock them out here.  After all, he didn’t think he would have a headache if they froze to death.

 

“Vampire!” she called into the night.  “Show yourself. We mean you no harm.”

 

Spike climbed up on top of the tool shed.  Maybe he could get the drop on her.

 

“Yeah, you just want to have tea and discus the finer points of Chaucer with me, right?” he said sarcastically as he made it up.

 

He bent over the side and watched as she hurried toward the sound of his voice.  She crept along the font of shed, looking for him on the other side.

 

“You must trust us,” she told him as she jumped to try and surprise him on the other side, only to find it empty.

 

At that moment, he leapt from high above, and grabbed her from behind.  “Forgive me, if I don’t believe you,” he said as he held her close to him as a sort of shield.

 

The other two came charging at them, but he positioned himself where she was in front, and they couldn’t get to him without going through her.  It usually wasn’t his style to use a human shield, but he was desperate at the moment.

 

“You do not understand,” she told him.  “You and the Slayer are in grave danger here.”

 

“Yeah, from you people,” he growled into her ear.  “A problem I plan to rectify.”

 

As he back towards the door, he felt a sharp pain race through his body as something hit him hard from behind.  He stumbled, letting the girl loose, who ran a few feet away from him, as he fell to the ground.  Through his blurred vision from the blow, he looked up and saw a well dressed man standing over him.  He had a club in his hands, and was preparing for another blow.

 

Oh, no.  He failed her, he thought as the club came up.

 

The girl he had attacked flew from the side, and tackled club man to the ground.  He looked over and watched as she punched the man hard in the face, then brought his head up and broke his neck.  Spike could hear the other two fighting some others, but this was getting to weird.  When she was satisfied with her work, she walked back over to the vampire lying in the snow, and held out her hand.

 

“Trust me.  We are not here to hurt you.  We want to help you.”

 

He considered his options at that moment.  He could either, a) chose to trust these people who probably just saved his undead ass, or b) keep trying to run with the slayer and the kid until they did get caught and drug back to wherever it was that Lang had them in the first place.  Though he knew that it was dangerous, he decided to go with a) for this one.  He reached out and took her hand, and let her help him up.

 

“Good,” she said with a smile.  “We must hurry.  There is very little time left.”

 

******

 

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut as she did as the doctor ordered her to.  She was pushing, but it hurt so much, she wasn’t sure if she could do this or not.  Sweat and tears poured down her face, as she tried to hold back a scream, but failed miserably.

 

To fast, this was all happening to fast.  She hadn’t been in labor long enough to be at the pushing state.  Ekaterina had said that it took nearly twenty seven hours before her first one was born.  She hadn’t even been in the hospital for two hours!  How could she already be at the pushing stage?

 

She groaned loudly as she fell back, unable to go any more.  The nurse was saying something to her, but she couldn’t understand, though she knew it had to be soothing because the tone she was using.  She felt as if she were about to start hyperventilating as the soothing nurse dabbed at her forehead with a wet rag, trying to cool her off.  There was blizzard outside, and she was trying to cool her off.  Oh ironic is that?

 

The doctor looked up at her, and said from behind his mask, “Again, Mrs. Summers.  Push, hard.”

 

She nodded her head, grabbed onto the mattress, and began to push.  She could feel it coming.

 

As she kept her face squished up with eyes squeezed shut, she said through her clutched teeth, “Damn it, Spike!  I really hate you!!!”

 

******

 

He slid to a stop in front of the room that they had told him Buffy would be in, but found that it held only one pregnant woman and her husband, while the other bed that had been occupied a short time ago laid empty.  His new ‘friends’ searched around for her, but they weren’t having any better luck then he was.  A young nurse came out of the room across from the one she was suppose to be in, and he pulled her aside.

 

“Miss,” he said frantically before calming himself.  “Miss.  Where is the young woman who was in that room?  A Mrs. Summers?”

 

She smiled at him.  “Oh, she’s in delivery, Sir.  Right down the hall.”

 

“Thanks,” he said charging away in search of her with the other three in toe.

 

As he reached the end of the hall, a door opened and they pushed her out of the room.  Her stomach was no longer large and swollen, and she looked utterly exhausted from the ordeal she had just been through.  She looked at him with tired eyes before drifting away.

 

“Buffy,” he said as he tried to reach her, but a doctor stopped him.  “Hey, that’s my wife!”  Here anyway, he silently added.

 

“Sir, please,” he said holding him back as they took her down the hall.  “She tired.  Let her rest.”

 

“Is she okay?  And the baby?”

 

The young doctor smiled at him, like so many people seem to be doing now a days.  “They’re fine.  It was ruff and fast, but they’re okay.  You have a pretty little girl.”

 

A girl?  He had a daughter?

 

“Give her a little time to rest, but we’ll bring the child to her room as soon as it’s cleaned up,” he told him before he could even process what he had just said about him having a daughter.

 

“All right,” he said as the doctor walked away.

 

The girl he had just met frowned at that information.

 

“We do not have that much time.  Those men on the roof are only the first.  Now that they know you are here, there will be more.”

 

Spike nodded his head in agreement.  She was right.  In no time, they would swarm this hospital like a pride of lions on a wounded gazelle. 

 

“Can you and your boys give us half an hour?  Let ‘er rest for a minute at least.”

 

The woman agreed with a nod, then said over her shoulder to the men, “David, James, contain the area.  I’ll go with Mr. William here.”

 

The two large men disappeared without another word, and the young woman followed him down the hall to Buffy’s room.

 

She was a small woman, maybe a little taller then Buffy herself, with long black hair that flowed around her waist, and olive color skin.  By the looks of her, Spike would guess she was of Italian decent, maybe Spanish.

 

“So, what do we call you?  Ma’am?” he said as they reached her room.

 

“I am Catherine.  You may call me as such.”

 

“Spike,” he said as he reached for the door handle.  “No more Mr. William stuff, all right.”

 

“Very well,” she said sweetly.  “Spike.”

 

The two entered the dim room and found the slayer lying, still asleep, on the bed that was raised up.  She looked so peaceful there, he hated that they were going to have to wake her, but Catherine was right.  It would only be a matter of time before Lang’s minions would show up.

 

He bent over close, which caused her to awake from the sleep she had been enjoying.

 

“Spike?” she said in a sleepy tone before she winced in pain.

 

“Hey, love,” he said lowly.

 

“Where were you?” she asked weakly.  She then noticed the black hair girl standing off to the side watching them, and he saw her whole body go tense.  “And who’s she?”

 

“Don’t worry, Slayer,” he told her, trying to get her to relax.  “She’s here to help us.  Listen, we don’t have a lot of time.  See-”

 

A gently tapping came at the door before a nurse walked in, carrying a tiny child in her arms.

 

“Mrs. Summers?” she said as she bounced the child slightly.  “There’s someone here to meet you.”

 

Spike step away from the bed as the nurse bent over and handed the child to Buffy, who face became as soft as he had ever seen it.  He could just stare at them in amazement as she held the child, and slipped into a maternal side he didn’t even know she had.  The nurse looked at him for a moment, before heading back out the door she had come in.  He sat down on the edge of the bed, continuing to watch them, as the tiny baby yawned widely, and then opened her eyes, those bright, beautiful, blue eyes.

 

“I am sorry,” Catherine said, bringing them back to where ever their minds had disappeared to.  “But time is of the essence.  We must go at once.”

 

“Go?” Buffy said, looking at him for an explanation.  “Go where?”

 

“That’s what I was tryin’ to tell you,” he said.  “We ran into some of Lang’s boys here in the hospital.  We took care of ‘em, but there are probably more on the way.  So we need to make ourselves scares quick like.”

 

“But,” her voice dropped and he leaned in close to speak to her.  “Do you trust her?” she whispered.

 

“I don’t think we have a choice here, love,” he said shaking his head.  “I doubt you can walk, so you’ll just have to settle for me carrin’ you for now.  Catherine, could you take...”

 

He stopped when he suddenly realized he had no idea what his daughters name was.

 

“Can’t very well call her Junior, now can we,” he said, reminding the Slayer that she hadn’t told him the name she was thinking of calling her.

 

“I was thinking Dylan,” she said in a ‘wanting approval’ tone.  “After the poet.”

 

He smiled at her. Since when did she like poetry? “Dylan’s fine.  I like Dylan.”

 

She smiled at that news.

 

Catherine came and took Dylan from her mothers grasp, much to Buffy’s disappointment, but she would have her back soon enough.  No one was going to take his little girl away from them, he’d swear to that.  She wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her from the bed and carried her out into the hall.  He followed Catherine down to the parking garage, where David and James were waiting for them in a running car.  Then the group disappeared into the snowy night.

 

******

The poet in question is Dylan Thomas who wrote “Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night”, one of my all time favorite poems. And yes, I realize Dylan is a boys name, but I like it.

---

 

Part 10: Broken and Gained

 

It would be awhile before Buffy and Dylan were strong enough to travel very far.  A few hours outside of Prague, they stopped in a town just outside of the Czech boarder, where Catherine informed them they would be staying until the slayer got her strength back.  David drove them to a large estate on the outskirt of the town.

 

“Where are we?” Buffy asked half asleep as she leaned on his shoulder.

 

“Germany,” he told her.  “We crossed the boarder about an hour ago.”

 

“Do not worry, Slayer,” Catherine said in her most reassuring tone.  “You and the child will be safe here.”  She then said to Spike as Buffy once again slipped into unconsciousness, “This is one of my fathers’ homes,” she explained.  “There will be someone here to look after them until they are well enough to travel on.”

 

“Where are you goin’ to take us?”

 

“Madrid,” she told him.

 

He looked over at the sleeping slayer, who, in any normal state, would not allow herself to be in such a comprising position with him.  Her arm was draped around his waist as she held on close, and he held his arm over her shoulder in a protective embrace.  Next to her, in a little car seat, Dylan slept as well, oblivious to the anxious air that was passing through the adults in the car.  He tore his gaze away from them and turned it back to Catherine that sat in front of him.

 

“I want answers,” he demanded coldly.

 

She shifted in the front seat to be able to see them better, and understood the moment her eyes laid on the three.

 

“My father will answer any questions you have,” she told him sweetly.

 

The car came to a stop in front of large entrance, where two well dressed servants waited in the snow with umbrellas.  One opened Catherine’s door, and held it high over their heads as she walked around the car, opened the door on Dylan’s side, and took the child out.

 

The other servant opened Spikes door, though he was already half way out of it by that time, and protected them from the snow as he gathered Buffy up in his arms.  Catherine came back around, carrying the baby that was still asleep like her mother, and headed towards the house.

 

“Come, I will show you where we can leave them for the time being.”

 

Inside the house, she led him up a large set of stairs that was the first thing he saw when they entered.  It reminded Spike of the stair case from Gone With The Wind, but he would admire the decoration and design of the house later.  Right now, he had more important things to worry about.

 

Unlike the one that helped Spike, the servant that had held the umbrella over Catherine remained with them, dumping the covering by the front door and following her up the stairs.  When they reached a large pair of doors, he opened them for her and the group quickly stepped inside.

 

The bedroom was larger then Spike’s crypt, with every elaborate comfort he could think of.  A gigantic bed stood as tall as the room, and he quickly hurried over and deposited the sleeping slayer in it.  An old, old man in a white lab coat began to check her over.  He didn’t trust anyone who wore a lab coat, not after Lang and the Commandos, but he said nothing as he back away and let the man work.  He did, after all, seem to be trying to help her. 

 

On the other side of the bed, Catherine had laid Dylan onto the soft bedding as a plump woman did nearly the same thing the old man was doing to Buffy.  Dylan was awake now, happily kicking her legs up at the woman, who was literally beaming at the child. 

 

When she was finished, she reached over, carefully picked her up, and said to Catherine, “She appears to be healthy, but you should not have taken her out in such conditions.  There was a serious threat she could have caught pneumonia.”

 

“We did not have a choice, Rosemary,” Catherine answered as the plump woman walked over to a crib that was set up near by and placed her inside.  “Lang’s people already knew that they were there.  We had to leave at once.”

 

“The mother’s fine as well,” the old man said coming away from Buffy side and joining Spike at his.  “Tired, but nothing else that is very serious.  With her healing abilities, she should be up and about tomorrow morning at the earliest.”

 

“Good,” Spike said.  The other three seemed to finally notice his presences then.

 

“Oh, I am sorry,” Catherine said.  “Spike, this is Dr. Peter van Devender and his wife Rosemary.  Peter, Rosemary, this is Spike.”

 

“How do you do,” the woman said with same silly smile she had when she was looking over his daughter. 

 

“Alright,” he answered before turning to Catherine.  “Your father?”

 

“Oh, yes.  Please, follow me.”

 

She hurried out of the room, and, after a moments hesitation of leaving Dylan and Buffy alone with these strangers, he followed.  The raven hair girl led him back down the stairs and into a part that was farther tucked into the estate.  Spike half wondered if he should maybe leave a bread crumb trail to find his way back through the maze.  Finally, she took him into a large library that would even make that Watcher of Buffy’s green with envy.

 

A middle age man, maybe a little older then Giles, sat in front of the fireplace that was burning brightly with a warm glow.  There was a book opened on his lap, and a glass half full with bourbon clutched in his hand as he read.  He looked up from the sound of approaching footsteps, and stood when he saw his daughter and a stranger coming towards him.

 

“Hello, Father,” Catherine said as the man placed the glass on a small table beside the chair he had been sitting in.

 

“Catherine,” he answered with all the warmth of three day old corps.  Then a goofy grin broke on his face, and Spike figured that this was suppose to be two people greeting each other properly in public, but was obvious that they weren’t actually like that.  “You must forgive me,” he said to Spike.  He had an English accent, but it was so proper, that it made Giles sound like some kind of commoner.  “My daughter wishes that we act dignified with company.  Please, have a seat, Mr. William.  Would you like some bourbon?”

 

“No thanks,” he answered as he took the seat next to the one the man had settled himself back in.  “And it’s just Spike.”

 

The man nodded his head, and Catherine took that as a silent cue to leave.  Spike and the man watched her go, before turning the attention back to each other.

 

“I do suppose you have questions,” he said as he leaned back in the chair.

 

“Yeah.  Like who the bloody hell are you and why are you helpin’ us?”

 

“I am Nicholas Becket,” he told him.  “As to why I am helping you, it is because I was told to a long time ago.”

 

He let out a sigh as he tried to explain.

 

“You see, Mr. Will-Spike, my family has long been associated with the Watchers Council in London, so the fact there are supernatural forces in the world has never been kept from us.  Though there has never actually been a Watcher in the family, we help out the slayer in any way possible, whether it is by providing funds to help her in her fight, or offering shelter when it is needed.  This is how it has always been for hundreds of years. That is, until the late fifties.

 

“I was a small boy then, and a woman who said she was sent by the Council came to our home.  She told my father of the corruption that was plaguing the institution then.  How they no longer actually cared about the slayers themselves and viewed them only as their tools for keeping the evil in the world in check.  After all, if they ever lost one, they would just have to call another.  This was something my father had feared his whole life, and dropped our whole families association with them. 

 

“The woman was actually a seer and told my father that in the end times his family would help what she called ‘the angel’.  My father became obsessed with discovering who this was, and why she needed our help.  He spent the rest of his life in that quest, but never discovered who she would be.  He discovered all sorts of text and left them to me upon his death back in nineteen eighty nine.  The things he had marked made no since to me what so ever, so I left them and paid them no mind for the better part of ten years.

 

“Then, one day about a year or so ago, I ran into a man-well, a demon actually, who informed me of a vampiress who had been brought back as a human, and I remembered something I read in one of my fathers markings.  This was speaking of the miracle child and how his mother would be twice sired.”

 

“There was a vampire who was human and was sired again?” Spike repeated as the words tried to sink in.

 

“Yes.  I believe you know her.  Her name is Darla.”

 

Spike nearly fell out of his chair at this news.  Darla?!  Darla was among the living again?!  Bet the poof was thrilled about that one.

 

“But she is not important.  What is, is that the child was born in November, which stepped up my search.  You see, the miracle child is the forerunner for the angel, a guide if you will, for when she is older.  I only had a few clues to go on, and then I got my big break.  There was a rumor circulating in the demon community about a woman who was commission to make a damphyr.  Suddenly, things in my father’s notes were making prefect since.  ‘A light, a darkness, she is a shadow.  Exciting from both, living for one.’  At least, that’s what the Codex said before my father lost it.”

 

Spike’s eyes narrow slightly as he understood what the man was saying.  “You think Dylan is this ‘angel’. Don’t you?”

 

“I know she is,” he stated flatly.  “Everything fits.  Her parents, the day she was born, everything.”  He leaned in closer, as if he were telling Spike some huge secret.  “Your daughter has been sent to save the world.  You should feel pride for that.”

 

The vampire clenched his teeth as his hands clamped down on the arm rest.

 

“The only thing I feel is pity for anyone who comes near her,” he hissed.

 

Becket leaned back in his seat and sighed.  He wasn’t angry or sad by the man’s reaction to the news about his child.  It was almost as if he expected it.  A kind chuckle escaped from him as he shook his head.

 

“You miss understand my intention.  I am simply here to offer protection for the child for the time being.  To help you and the Slayer along until such a time comes that we must part our ways, nothing more.” He paused for a moment, letting Spike read his expression and know he spoke the truth.  “If you wish, I can even assist you with your ‘Lang’ problem.  I am a very powerful man, Spike, offering my serves for free because this was my fathers’ quest and now mine.  I believe in this.  I will protect the girl with all my being, as I expect you and the slayer will.  The child what’s important, nothing else.”

 

Spike sighed as he leaned back in the chair, relaxing slightly for the first time since they arrived.

 

“That, mate, is at least something we can agree on.”

 

******

 

Travers stood at his office window, staring out into the London night.  Usually, this time of year, it was snowing and the sky was not viable.  Tonight, however, it was clear.  Racing across the sky was the comet he fully expected to see, marking the beginning of his valuable projects life.

 

It had appeared a few hours before, very faint at first and even dimmer from the lights of the city, but it had gotten brighter.  By morning, it would be gone, and, those not fortunate enough to look up in the sky that night, would never even know it had been there.

 

He had received a call a bit before from his men.  They had found one of the scout groups dead on the roof of a hospital in Prague where a young woman matching the description of the slayer had had a child then suddenly disappeared with it.  Needless to say, the hospital was worried of being sue should something happen to the mother and child, but he had a feeling they would never hear from them again.

 

They had someone helping them, he knew that now.  The slayer was busy having the child, and the vampire wouldn’t have been unable to fight back against the humans that he sent, yet they lay in the snow dead with broken necks.  Whoever they had helping them was good, he would admit that, but who could it be?

 

He had ordered look outs for every hospital placed within five hundred miles of the city, but they had all come up empty thus far.  No.  Whoever was with them now probably had their own doctors looking after the mother and child.  But he wasn’t giving up yet.  After all, tomorrow would be another day.

 

******

 

Spike came to the door of Buffy’s room just as it opened and Rosemary stepped out.  She jumped slightly in surprise from seeing him, and, shamefully, he did the same.  It had just been a long night, which, thank goodness, was almost over.  Silently, she pushed past him and disappeared into the hall as he went inside.

 

Buffy was up now, standing over the nice and, now that he really looked at it, expensive crib.  That must the only kind of taste Becket had.  She had Dylan in her arms, swaying slightly as she cooed at the child.  Her body tensed for a moment as she shot a glance over her shoulder at the door, but he simply held up his hands and smiled to show her it was just him.

 

“Didn’t mean to startle you, love,” he said as he slowly approached them.

 

Buffy snorted as she turned her attention back to the baby.  “Don’t flatter yourself.”

 

He came up beside her and looked down at the small wonder she held.  Becket had been right, nothing else mattered but this kid.  They might not share the reasoning, but they did share that.

 

“So, this is that Catherine girls digs, hu?” Buffy asked.

 

“Her fathers, or one of them anyway.  Right interestin’ fellow,” he said as he reached over and gently touched the child chin. 

 

That was when he realized that had actually been the first physical contact he had ever had with his daughter.  As if sensing who he was, Dylan reached up and wrapped her tiny hand around the tip of his finger.  He had no idea anything could be so small.  The child giggled, and the slayer shook her head as she smiled.

 

“Oh, that’s just great.  I think she likes you,” she said slyly.

 

“Well, you know how women love me,” he said in sarcastic sweetness.

 

She rolled her eyes, then said to Dylan, “Please don’t turn out like him.  One cocky ass is enough.”

 

“Language, love,” he played as he took the child from her arms, went over to the bed, and sat down with her.  Buffy followed, and sat next to him.  “You shouldn’t say those words in front of the kiddies.”

 

“This coming from the man who once spouted out more absentees in one sentence then I knew existed because some kid cut him off in traffic.”

 

“Yeah, well, I said you shouldn’t swear.  Never said nothin’ about me.”

 

She again shook her head, but kept her attention on the baby he had in his arms.  He saw a frown slowly grow on her face as thought she had about what was going to happen to her weighed heavily on her mind.  They probably mirrored his own fears and worries pretty closely, though she would never admit it.

 

“Don’t worry, Slayer.  We’ll get though this.” 

 

With his free hand, he found hers resting next to him on the bed, and he took it.  She looked at him for a moment, but didn’t say anything.  In fact, she seemed almost relieved to hear those words, even if she didn’t fully believe it like him.

 

“We always do,” she finished for him.

 

---

Part 11: Who Are You?

 

The estate in Madrid made the one in Germany look like a nice little country cottage.  It was warmer here then in the other country, with no snow that she had slowly learned to loath over the past few months.  At first, she had enjoyed the white powered, feeling like a child as she watched it cover the ground and the city.  After about two months of seeing nothing but it, she had grown weary of the weather and was glad to see the green that Spain had to offer.

 

The slayer had never been so relieved in her whole life then when Rosemary, who had been with them since Germany, had told her it was the first day of spring.  Buffy had packed up her then four month old daughter and taken her out for a day in the sun, though the child sleep most of it.  She could already tell that she was going to be a night owl, just like her parents.

 

Becket’s home was roughly the size of Sunnydale itself.  Catherine explained that this was where they raised their Thoroughbreds and those Spanish horses Buffy read about that did tricks, but she could remember the name of.  The place was well guarded, like a fort, and no one from the city ever seemed to venture out this way unless they were lost. 

 

Much to her surprise, or not, Spike took very good care of his daughter and was very protective of her.  When he had explained to her what Becket had said about Dylan being some sort of ‘angel’, she had been worried of what the rich man might do.  But he had sworn that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her, and, so far, he kept that promise fiercely.  He might be chipped, but Buffy felt sorry for any person who tried to hurt Dylan.  They would not only have one pissed off slayer to deal with, but one very dedicated vampire who would probably push away all thoughts of the chip if it came down to saving his child.

 

Buffy was glad he was so dedicated to her.  Her own father had never made much time for her or Dawn when they were younger and, the only time she could remember seeing him was when he was leaving for a trip and had to come by the house to get his stuff.  That, or when him and her mother were fighting about something or another.  To be honest, she missed him a little, but she was dying inside to go home to her mother and sister and the other Scoobies.  But she was protecting Dylan, and her safety was what matter.

 

Seems like someone should remind Catherine of that. 

 

A few nights ago, she had told Buffy and Spike that her father would be holding a party to celebrate the being of the racing season.  Needless to say, the two were stunned at such an idea of exposing them like that, but Catherine had explained that it would be even more exposure if they did not hold the gala.  Her father was known for this party, and, if he did not hold it, there would be questions as to why.  She had tried to reassure them that the party would be heavily guarded and that no one without an invitation would be allowed in, nor any that did not pass a security check.  Still, Buffy was uneasy about this. 

 

What if they unknowing invited one of Lang’s men?  What if someone recognized them?  What if...?  There really were too many what if questions.

 

It wasn’t so much as that she didn’t want to meet with other people, she was about to go crazy if she didn’t, but it was just so dangerous right now.  Of course, another nagging voice told her that these were people who raised horses for a living and probably never went anywhere near a demon or vampire.  Not to their knowledge anyway.  In fact, if she said anything about it, they’d probably look at her like she had sprung another head.

 

Rosemary had dropped off a dress that Becket had bought for her to wear at the party, and she was now standing in front of the mirror seeing how she looked.  It was a long, black dress that dipped down low in the front, and even farther in the back.  Two small straps held the dress together on her shoulders, as a long split came up the side and stopped just below the hip.  Buffy smiled as she looked at her herself from side to side, then from behind.

 

“Well, looks like Mommy got her figure back, hu?” she said to the baby, who giggled and clapped in agreement.  “Oh, you find that funny, do you?”

 

She bent in close to the baby, gently scratching her stomach, tickling her.  Dylan began to laugh even more, especially at the goofy face her mother was making at her as she assaulted her stomach.

 

Though the open window, she could see the sky turning into cool royal blues and black as the horizon burned orange when the sun had finally set.  Coming through the forest cover road that led up the house, she could see a steady line of cars coming towards them as one of the stablemen ran one of Beckets finest horses along the fence to show it off.  The party was being held in the back south lawn, which was now set up to look like the President was coming for a visit.  A live band was already playing softly, and she could pick up the tune that drifted in on the wind.

 

“Are you ready to go, Buffy?” Catherine said as she walked in the room with Rosemary close behind who would be watching Dylan that night.

 

“As I’ll ever be, I guess,” the blonde sighed as she joined the dark hair beauty and the plump woman went to taking care of the child.

 

“Do not worry, Ms. Summers,” Rosemary said as she bounced Dylan in her arms.  “Have a good time tonight.”

 

“Thanks, Rosemary,” she said. 

 

Buffy had long given up trying to the get her to call her by her first name. She was a very proper servant woman, who was only married to doctor but didn’t feel like she had raised in status any from it, and called all the people who lived in the house by Mr., Mrs., or Ms.  Even Spike got to be Mr. Spike whenever Rosemary was around.

 

Buffy followed Catherine through the east wings halls that she had finally grown accustom to after awhile.  For the longest time, it would only take Buffy a simple wrong step to get her lost, but she somehow always found her way to the kitchen.  Catherine told her that nearly hall or stair well eventually leads there, so that had helped, but she so wished they would have just put in one of those ‘You are here’ maps every so often.

 

It was completely dark by the time they reached the others, who were already mingling and laughing about some boring thing.  Upon seeing them descend the brick stair way that lead to the party, a large, well dressed man came up to Catherine, sized her hands, and gave her two quick pecks on the checks.

 

“Why, Catherine Becket, look how lovely you’ve become,” he said, and Buffy realized that this was an American by his accent. 

“Thank you, Mr. Thomas.”  She turned and pulled Buffy forward for a proper introduction.  “Mr. Thomas, I would like you to meet Buffy Summers.”

 

“How do you do,” she said politely, remembering what her mother had always taught her.

 

“Buffy and I were roommates at UCLA a few years ago.  She and her husband are here visiting my father and myself for the summer,” Catherine continued quickly, remembering the cover story they had came up with earlier.

 

“A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Summers,” he said kindly.  “So, I take it you’re American?”

 

“Yes, sir,” she answered.  “I’m actually from LA.”

 

“Ah.  So, what you think of Spain?”

 

“It’s a lot nicer then some of the places I’ve been,” she admitted.  Of course, I haven’t seen much of it besides the ranch, she added silently.

 

“I’m glad,” he said, ending his small talk with her and turning back to Catherine.  “So, where is your father?”

 

“Who knows?  You know him, he’ll probably have to make some grand entrance.”

 

Mr. Thomas laughed politely, then said, “Yes.  I believe he will.  Well, it was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Summers.”  He started to walk away when a thought crossed his mind.  “Summers?  You wouldn’t happen to be related to a Joyce Summers would you?”

 

Buffy was stunned for a moment.  She hadn’t heard anyone say her mothers name in almost a year and a half.  She was surprised at how many emotions it could bring by simply mentioning it.

 

Fighting to control her voice, she said, “Who?”

 

“Joyce Summers,” he repeated.  “Lovely woman.  She sold me a painting a few months back.  Gave me a great deal.  Then, if you are Mrs. Summers, I suppose she might be related to your husband.”

 

Buffy let out a sad sigh.  “No, she is not related to Sp-William.”  Except for her granddaughter, she added silently.

 

“Oh.  Well, forget I asked then.”

 

Any joy she might have got out of the party left with that conversation and mention of her mother.  She missed her so bad it literally hurt.  Catherine gave her concerned look, but, before she could ask, Buffy took off for a dark section of the lawn.  She just needed to be alone at that moment.

 

******

 

Spike walked through the hall, grumbling to himself.  He had been living there for four bleeding months, and still got lost.  When Buffy had raised the idea of those maps, he had laughed along with Catherine and Becket, but now that didn’t seem like such a bad idea.  Well, he would just have to make his way to the kitchen and find his way from there.

 

The faint muttering echoed down the hall, and he was relieved when he recognized Becket was its owner.  He came to the door that it was coming from, but stopped before he opened it.  There was something there with him, something, not human.  Spike growled lowly in his throat.  So the little prick did sell them out.

 

“It will be difficult to get him to leave,” Becket said the demon that was with him.  “He is very protective of them.”

 

“You want to see how protective?” Spike asked coldly as he stepped into the room.

 

Becket stood up strait behind the desk, surprised to see him there. The demon, however, rose slowly and showed no fear at the very angry vampire that stood in the doorway.

 

“Spike, this is not what you think,” he tried to defend lamely.

 

“Oh, I think it is,” he said as he vamped out.

 

Becket took a step back, probably never actually seeing a game face before this one.  The demon simply shook his head as he gave a small laugh.

 

“I can see what you mean,” he said with a British accent much like Spikes.  “He is protective, if not a bit short tempered.”  The demon came closer to him, unafraid.  “It is true what he says.  I am not here to harm the child or her mother.  I am here to help you protect them.”

 

Spike slipped out of his game face, unsure how to take anyone who claimed that they wanted help them.  “Where were you people a year ago when me and the slayer were on the run?  Couldn’t help us then?”

 

“We did not know of you then,” the demon said.  “We do now.”

 

He went back and sat in the chair that he had been in moments before, but Becket remained standing.

 

“It’s true, Spike,” he told him, starting to relax a little.  “Please, sit.”

 

Reluctantly, he did as he was asked to do, and Becket finally took his own set.

 

“Four months ago, I made you a promise that I would help you with your ‘Lang’ problem, as I called it.  Well, here it is.  I figure that you can pretty much take care of your own, and are very willing to do it, if tonight is any indication.  What I am about to offer will help you take care of your um...family, in case any thing should happen to mine.”  He leaned forward onto the desk.  “You see, Spike, the only thing I see that is keeping you from being able to protect them they way you feel they should be is because of your chip and its incapacity to work on humans, who happen to be the enemy at this time.  Kin’tel,” he nodded to the demon set beside the vampire, “knows a demon in Uganda that can take care of that for you.”

 

“What are you sayin’?” he asked, not believing what he was hearing.

 

“This demon can take the chip out,” Becket stated slowly.

 

******

 

Buffy started slowly back to the party, the grass already starting to dampen as the night wore on.  Most of the people’s laughter could be heard from where she stood, but she still didn’t feel like join in on it.  She was just so tired of running and hiding, even from her own family.  Why couldn’t they just go home?

 

She moved through the crowd until she discovered Catherine, standing in the middle of a large circle of men, all who seemed to be admiring her...wit.  The young woman was laughing at some joke or another when Buffy approached.  Seeing the dark look on her face, she excused herself from the group, and joined her new friend.

 

“What is it?” she asked, her slight Spanish accent bleeding through terribly.

 

“I’m sorry,” Buffy said shaking her head.  “But I’m really not in the party mood.  I think I’ll just go back and check in on Dylan.”

 

“Are you sure, Buffy?  The night is still young.”

 

“Yeah, I am.  Please tell your father I’m sorry I missed him tonight.”

 

Catherine nodded her head, as Buffy headed back into the house.  She was somewhere else as her brain went on auto pilot and lead her back to her room.  Well, she thought with a sigh, at least I didn’t get lost.

 

“Rosemary,” she called as she opened the door.  “I’m back.”

 

“I sent her on already, pet,” Spike answered.

 

She looked over through the French doors that lead from her room into the nursery.  Spike was standing over the crib, looking over at the child that laid fast asleep inside.  Somewhere inside of her, she felt something say that she should be annoyed that he just came up in here without her permission, it was her room after all, but she pushed it aside.  After all, she didn’t have soul right to her daughter...their daughter.

 

She walked over and stood at the end of the crib, looking in at the angelic child.  Dylan was the only thing now a days that made her really feel happy anymore.  When she was around her, she didn’t think about Sunnydale or her family because this child was her family.  In away, she was thankful to Spike for that.

 

“Take it you didn’t enjoy the party, then,” he said, studying the look on her face.

 

“Not so much the party,” she said sadly.  At his confusion, she went on.  “I meet a guy who knows mom.”

 

“Really?  He knows Joyce?”

 

“Yup,” she said going out of the nursery back into her room.  He followed, unconsciously turning off the light and pulling the door to so not to disturb Dylan.  “Called her by name and everything.  Said she was a sweet woman or something like that.”

 

“Yes, well, I suppose if someone was complementin’ my mum I would be upset about it too,” he said sarcastically, still not understanding her down mood.

 

That would have normally earned him a glare at the very least, but she didn’t have the energy for a fight that night.  “It’s not that.  It’s just...that was the first time I’ve heard anyone beside me or you even say her name.  I couldn’t even tell him that was my mother.  You have no idea how bad I wanted to.”

 

He began to understand.  She was lonely and homesick.  Unlike him, she hadn’t been use to leaving everything you know and love behind without a second thought.  He had learned that years ago when he first became a vampire.  It had been so long, he had actually forgotten how hard it could be.

 

“Come now, love,” he said.  “You’ll see her again.”

 

“When, Spike?” she said suddenly directing all her anger at him.  “When?  When they finally get sick of chasing us?  When-when I’m too old to have kids and they finally leave me alone?  When I die?  When?!”

 

He was surprised at the on slough, then frowned.  “I don’t know.”

 

“See, that just it. No one does.  I might as well face it.  It’s going to be me, you, and Dylan for the rest of our lives,” she said as she flopped down on the edge of the bed.

 

“And that’s really so bad?”

 

“Yes!  No.  I don’t know,” she said as her face fell into her hands.  “I don’t know anything anymore.”

 

He came and sat beside her, and placed his hand between her bare shoulder blades.  It reminded her of the time she had been sitting on her back porch when her mom told her that she was sick.  That had been the night she had told him that he was beneath her.  He had been beneath her alright.  That was how she got that child in the other room that was sleeping.

 

Before she realized it, she had leaned into him and placed her arms around his waist as her head laid on his shoulder.  Something said that this should feel off, but she didn’t care at that moment.

 

“Promise me something,” she said looking ahead.

 

“Anything, pet.”

 

“No matter what, you’ll never abandon Dylan like my dad did me.”

 

“Done,” he said and she could see him smiling at her insecurity of it.  “Besides, any man that would abandon you is a bloody fool if you ask me.”

 

She rose up out of the embraced and looked at him, as if for the first time.  It looked like she was searching for something, trying to see into his soul like he was able to do so easily with her.  He coward under the gaze, not liking where it was sure to led.  Her face soften as she gave up the search for whatever it was she was looking for.

 

“Thank you,” she said as she went back to the embrace she had just pulled away from.  “You know, if you nice like that more often you wouldn’t get hit in the nose so much.”

 

He chuckled, half from relief that she did not see what he had been trying to fight and keep from her for over a year, half from the humor.  “I’ll remember that next time.”

 

******

 

She was standing on the south lawn, just beyond the forest that surrounded the estate.  It was cold there, and dark and the whole manner had an eerie glow to it.

 

“Buffy!” a young woman’s voice called from inside the woods.  “Buffy!  Come see what I’ve found!”

 

She followed a well worn path through the forest, which gradually turned into the streets of Sunnydale on a busy afternoon.  There were more people there then she knew lived in the town, but it felt right as she pushed through to find the owner of the voice.  Standing in the middle of the side walk, was a teenage girl, who looked Dawn’s age.  The people moved around her, almost forming a protective circle that Buffy quickly entered.

 

“What is it?” she asked.

 

“You don’t see him?” she asked, confused.

 

Buffy shook her head.

 

“There is a wolf among the people,” she said turning around and looking at the crowd.  “A wolf in sheep clothing.  You must be weary of it.  They threaten us all.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Not who you think,” she said as she turned back to face her.  The girls’ eyes became wide as she focused in something behind the slayer.  Buffy turned quickly, in time to see a large pair of teeth coming at her.

 

The slayer sat up in her bed, sweet dripping down her face as her breathing deepen in small gasps.  From the nursery, Dylan was balling like she had never heard before, and her mother quickly made her way to the obviously frighten child.  She scooped her up into her arms, and began to sway to try and calm her. 

 

It was then that she noticed she still had on the gown from the night before.  She must have fallen asleep in it.  The last she had remembered from the night before was talking with Spike, about her desire to see her mother, about him swearing to never leave Dylan.  When she had confided in him about her father abandoning her, she had not expected the response he gave.  She didn’t know what she expected him to say, but that surely wasn’t it. 

 

For a moment, she had almost thought that he...loved her.  That was something that a person would say if they loved someone else.  Then she remembered that this was Spike she was thinking about.  He didn’t really love, he couldn’t, being soulless and all.  But she had seen him with Dylan.  He did love her.  And sometimes, she caught him looking at her the same way.  Did he?  Could he?

 

She shook her head and carried Dylan back into her room as the child sobs slowly lessened. 

 

“You have a bad dream like Mom?” Buffy asked as she walked to the window, so the two could watch the sunrise in a few minutes.  She kissed the child on the top of the head, and then said, “It’s okay.  Those nasty dreams can’t hurt you.”  I hope, she added silently.

 

The suns first rays had not come yet, but the sky was starting to grow warm from impending event.  She was going to watch this, but noticed something going on in the front entrance.  Dylan was quiet by now, pulling and eating her mothers’ hair who had been very interested in the events unfolding below her.

 

One of Becket’s cars was pulled out front, running as one of the servants placed a bag in the trunk.  Becket and Catherine were waiting beside the open door, and shot to attention as a man came from inside the house.  Buffy instantly recognized Spike, though he didn’t have on his black duster, just his red shirt and black jeans.  He went to Becket, took his hand and said something to him, which the older man nodded his head in agreement to.  He then went to Catherine, took both her hands, and kissed her on the cheek.  For a moment, Buffy felt a pang of jealousy, but she was too scared of what was going on before to worry about that.  When he was getting into the car, she turned from the window, still clinging Dylan to her, and ran for the entrance.

 

He promised!  He swore he wouldn’t leave!  He swore!!

 

She reached the main foyer just as Catherine and Becket were coming back inside, the black car that held Spike long gone from out front.  The two were speaking softly to one another as she hurried up to them, adjusting her grip on Dylan.

 

“Where is he?” she demanded coolly.  “Where’s he going?”

 

Catherine looked to her father, searching for the answer.  Becket raised his hands, reminding Buffy of how her grandfather use to do when he had news, usually not the good kind, and it was a way for him to keep whoever it was calm.

 

“Buffy,” he said gently.  “Perhaps you should step into my office.”

 

She turned away from him sharply as Dylan began to cry, frighten by her mothers mood and action.

 

“Where did he go?” she bit through her teeth, wanting a strait answer and wanting it right then.

 

Becket let out a sigh and then said, “Africa.”

 

The stunned blonde blinked.  “Africa?  As in Lion King, Tarzan Africa?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Why would he go there?  And why didn’t he tell me?”

 

The man paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way to put this.  That made Buffy even more uncomfortable.  When people had to think of ways to put things, it never turned out to be a good thing.  Seeing her father flounder, Catherine decided to take a stab.

 

“Buffy, you trust Spike, yes?”

 

Now it was Buffy’s turn to pause.  Did she trust him?  The answer was clear to her.  She had trusted him since before they got off that island.  At first, it was for necessity.  After that, it was because he earned it.  Never once in the past year had she even seen him consider leaving her behind, and there were so many times he could have.  He could have left her in that hospital back in Prague and saved his own sorry hid, but he didn’t.  In fact, from what Catherine had told her of the incident, he had actually lead them away from her.  So did she trust him?

 

“Yes,” she stated, making it sound like a simple word, but knowing it wasn’t.

 

“Then trust him now,” she told her as only a friend could.  Catherine approached her, and placed her hand on Buffy shoulder, opposite from Dylan that had claimed and was still whimpering onto her mothers new, and now wrinkled, dress.  “Do not worry.  He will return.”

 

“But...why did he leave?” she asked softly.

 

If it were possible, she would swear that Catherine’s face became kinder.  “That is for him to tell upon his return. Now come,” she said as she started to lead her back into the home.  “Let’s get you changed, and join Father for breakfast.”

 

---

 

Part 12: Where Have You Been Hiding?

 

 

Lang sat at the computer, typing away furiously.  One little lead that was all she needed.  One.

 

Travers was growing more and more impatient with her and she feared she might be joining her old assistant in the great beyond if she did not provide something useful soon.  They had come so close in Prague, so close.  But there hadn’t been a word since then.

 

When the words on the screen began to bleed together, Lang turned away, forcefully jerked off her glasses and throwing them on the table in front of her. 

 

They knew it had to be someone with power that was helping them, that was the only way they could literally drop off the face of the earth like they had.  The only question was, who?  There were many powerful men who had knowledge of the super natural world, any of which could have taken an interest in the couple and the child.  After all, with news of the miracle child’s birth, surely those who were familiar with the old prophecies would know that the angel would be soon to follow.

 

Travers had gone strait to work hiding this information from the rest of the Council. Most of them had no knowledge of the project at all, just a few high ranking officials, and that was how he planned to keep it.  Someday, when the angel was older, she would have to choose her loyalties, and he wanted to be the soul person with that honor.  He cared nothing if she served the Council, only him.

 

The computer dinged as it told her that she had a new e-mail, and the tired woman reluctantly answered it.  Her eyes grew wide as she read the letter, a smile daring to grow on her mouth.

 

It was from one of a butcher shop just outside of Madrid that catered for ‘special need’ services.  Apparently, some wealthy horse racer that lived on the outskirts of town suddenly had an increased need for pigs blood.

 

******

 

“Come on, Dylan, you can do it,” Buffy encouraged the child that was on its hands and knees on the perfectly manicured lawn.  “Come to Mommy.”

 

She had herself position mere inches away from the baby, who was learning her brand new skill of crawling.  Rosemary said she was still fairly young, being that she was only seven months, but Dylan was just like her parents.  She was going to stick to something until she got it, no matter what people said.  The child began to jerk back and forth as she tried to will herself forward, wanting to get to her mother so she would lift her up.  Finally, she placed one hand out, scooted on her knees, then followed with the other hand.

 

“That’s it, come on,” Buffy said happily as the child came the few inches to her.  She bent down and picked her up, kissing her on the cheek for her triumph.  “That’s my girl,” she said between kisses.

 

“I take it she is mastering the art of crawling,” Catherine said as she walked towards the mother and daughter pair from the house.

 

“Yeah,” Buffy beamed.  “Won’t be long, and I’ll have to chase her down for a bath or feeding time.”

 

“Trust me when I say you will never have to chase her down for a feeding,” Catherine laughed.

 

Buffy giggled a little before turning back to her daughter.  Her little mouth formed a perfect O as she looked in wonder at the sky above, which was growing dark.  For some reason, twilight and sunrise amazed the child, leaving her in a transfixed stage whenever she witnessed them.  The stars started to faintly break through the veil of blue and black, and her tiny hand reached up, as if trying to catch one, temporarily forgetting her accomplishment.

 

Buffy bent over and kissed her forehead, marveling at her amazement. 

 

Her bright blue eyes turned to her mother, and Buffy caught her breath.  When she was born, Buffy had thought that she had inherited those from her sister, but Dylan’s was much sharper, much deeper.  Now that she was looking at them, in dim light as night fast approached, she realized how much they looked like Spike’s eyes.  In fact, those where his eyes.

 

The slayer frowned at the thought of him.  It had been three months since she saw him load up in Becket’s expensive car and drive off into the early morning.  She had spent the day worry about the sun getting him, as he stupidly decided to travel when the sun was out, but Catherine had assured her of the car’s safety from that very thing.  She looked for his return every day for a month, then every couple of hours the second, and now every time she came out, she looked to the drive to see if the vehicle was returning.  It always greeted her the same way.  Empty.

 

Surprisingly, she found herself missing him.  He had been her only company that she could trust for so long that it felt wrong that he wasn’t around.  She needed someone who she could fight with, verbally and physically, who was on the same level as her.  Catherine tried to fill in as a sparing partner, and, for a human, she was good, but Buffy still had to take it easy on her.  After all, she was still the slayer and she had the slayer strength.  Catherine did not.

 

Then there was Dylan.  Three months in baby time is, like, a life time.  He missed her getting strong enough to sit up on her own.  He missed her learning to crawl.  He missed her growing up.  Babies don’t stay babies forever.  Pretty soon, she would be walking and talking, celebrating her first Halloween - though Buffy knew how the undead hated that holiday - her first Thanksgiving - an American holiday she fully intending on exposing her daughter to just like she had the Forth of July - and her first birthday.  If he didn’t come home soon, he’d miss all that.  She didn’t want him to miss it.  It wouldn’t be fair to Dylan, or him.

 

“Do not worry, Buffy,” Catherine said as if she could read her mind.  “He will return soon.”

 

“I hope so,” the blonde confessed.  “Dylan is growing up so fast....She’ll be driving and off to college before you know it.”

 

“I think you still have awhile to wait for that,” Catherine said smiling.  “And I am also fairly certain he will have returned by then.”

 

Buffy gave a small laugh, realizing she was jumping the gun a bit.

 

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed.  “Why don’t we go see if dinners ready yet.  How ‘bout it, Dylan?  You want to eat.”  The child giggled at her mother.  “That’s what I thought you’d say,” Buffy said as she and Catherine turned and went back in the house.

 

******

 

Lang was practically glowing when she saw that familiar blond hair from the perch she had in the woods.  It was her.  It could only be her.  And that child she was holding as she talked to the black hair woman, that was her baby, the one they had searched for over a year for.  She could hardly contain her excitement as she turned back to the agents that Travers had sent along with her when she said they might have a lead.  He had sent her with them to make sure there were no screw ups this time, and she fulfill intended on there not being any.

 

They were all identically dressed in long overcoats, with black jeans and shirts to match underneath.  She didn’t know how they were burning alive in the outfits.  All she had on was the black shirt and pants and she was already about to die.

 

The leader looked at her for conformation that they had found there target.  Lang drew in an excited breath and said, “It’s her.”

 

He nodded his head and turned back to the group.  “We move in at o’ one hundred hours.  Remember, the objective is to bring in the slayer, the vampire, and the baby out alive.  Terminate anyone else that might stand in the way.”

 

The all nodded their heads in agreement as Lang added, “Remember, the vampire will not be able to fight back due to that chip in his head, so he should be fairly easy to capture.  However, the slayer is fully capable of taking us out.  You men should focus mainly on drugging her first.”  She turned back and looked at the house, whose lights were starting to come on one by one.  “I’ll take care of the child.”

 

******

 

Nightmares plagued her dreams yet again that night.  This one was different, an old one she had been having since she escaped from the island.  She could see Willow fighting Glory and winning.  She felt such pride for her friend as she stood down the woman as bravely as she ever could, only feel horror as Glory grabbed her and pulled her through some portal Willow herself had opened.  Buffy sat strait up in her bed, suppressing a scream that hung heavy in her throat.

 

Her room was completely dark then, except for a faint, yellow light that glowed from the nursery.  Buffy pushed the silk sheet off and went to investigate.  Rosemary had fallen asleep next to the crib that Dylan slept it, the older woman having a colorful children book open in her lap.  The blonde smiled at the sweet sight, and decided it best not to disturb them.  Instead, she walked back through the French doors and closed them behind her as she headed back to bed to try and sleep again.

 

But something felt off in the house and she was becoming more and more uncomfortable by the minute.  She tried to ignore it, but, the longer she lay in the bed trying to sleep, the more powerful it became.  Finally, she gave up and decided to see what could be causing such a feeling.  She would never get to sleep if she didn’t.

 

Buffy quietly opened the door and stepped into the hallway. It looked dark and mincing as she had ever seen it, but she pushed it aside as she began to go in search for the off feelings origin.  Thanks to her navy blue pajamas, she blended more into the shadows then she would have normally, though why that seemed important she didn’t know.

 

She crept down the main stair well that lead into the foyer, her feet growing cold against the well polished black and yellow marble floor.  Something, or someone, was defiantly there.  What she had hoped was only her imagination suddenly became very real when she entered the main security office.  Sitting behind the surveillance camera equipment was Juan, Becket’s head of security, with his throat slashed.  He hadn’t even been able to get out a scream.

 

Buffy gasped, not actually having seen a dead human body in so long  that she had forgotten how sickening one looked like.  Slowly, she backed away from the open door; the light from inside flowing over her, exposing her to anyone came along.  And someone did.  Five of them to be exact, dressed completely in black, quickly formed a circle around the slayer.

 

 “What?  Surplus store have a sale on ninja outfits?” she asked dryly.  They were really too big to be ninja’s, but it was the only thing she could think of at the time.

 

She did know one thing; there wasn’t enough room to fight here.  If she wanted to stand a chance, she would have to lead them outside, or at least to a larger room, preferable one as far away as possible from Dylan.

 

She attacked the man that stood between her and the rest of the hall first, knowing that she could lead them away if she just get down it.  Buffy quickly did a round house, knocking the man to ground, just as she ran over him and the rest of the group followed close behind.  Using every ounce of her slayer speed, she darted through the dark home that she had thankfully finally learned the layout of, leading the men through corridor after corridor.  Finally, she ducked into green house/garden that was attached to kitchen.

 

It was one of those creepy old green houses that had a knack for appearing in ghost movies now a days.  Its cast iron frame, with fogged window walls except for the ceiling that was clear glass, and a large fountain with a statue of a young woman standing in the middle of the dark water set directly in the middle, provided her new battle ground. 

 

Buffy never liked to come in here.  One, even in the middle of the night, it was still much to hot for her taste, and two, this place gave off major wiggin vibes.  Hopefully, with it being so dark except for the moon light, they’d get the creeps and she could use that to her advantage.

 

She tucked herself into one of the darker corner were a large batch of bushed provided covering, and watched as the five men, one limping now from being trample, came inside.  The man at the head of the group, obviously the leader, pointed to two of the men to go check out the other side of the greenhouse as he and the other two checked the side Buffy hid in.  The little blonde pulled in tightly to herself as the three slowly crept along the stone pathway, their heads turning from side to side as they searched for any movement.  She watched through a small brake in the bush as they passed her by.

 

When they were passed her, she reemerged from her hiding spot and attacked from behind.  The one on the back right side spotted her movements first, but only in time to see the back of her fist smash into his face, breaking his nose on contact. The other two swung around to see what was happening, as Buffy kicked the man in the stomach, then through him into the man on the left.  The two crashed into one of the rose bushes, each yelping in pain as the thorns tore into their flesh.

 

The leader attacked her head on, with a blur of punches and kicks flying at her head.  She ducked and dodged, trying to land her own on, but failed to.  The two men in the rose bush scrambled to their feet and charged.  She dropped to the ground, half trying to avoid them, half avoiding a well placed kick.  One of the men tripped over her, knocking his head hard against the brick pathway, which cracked his skull.  The other joined with his friend, giving Buffy a two sided fight.

 

The slayer leapt high into the air, kicking the man whose nose she had broken in the chest.  The force was so great, that he flew backwards through one of the windows, shattering it as he passed through.

 

The man in charge hit her twice in the face, once from the left, once from the right, but the blows weren’t even as hard as the ones that Spike had given her in the sparing matches. 

 

“You know, I would say you hit like a girl,” she said as she caught his fist mid air.  “But that would be insulting to my gender.”  She smashed her head into his face, knocking the man back as she head back for the entrance.

 

The man roared slightly as he leapt after her, knocking her to the ground with him on top of her.  She rolled onto her back, and he sat on top of her, using all his weight to hold her down.  He quickly grabbed both her arms and locked them over her head, and the other two men seemed to appear out of no where to assist.

 

They were stronger then they looked, holding down the slayer as she struggled to free herself from them. 

 

“I guess you guys have been eating your Weatties,” she said mockingly as she tried to pull herself free, but failed.  She really was out of practice.

 

One of the men who joined him reached into his pocket, pulled out a black case, and popped it quickly.  Inside, was a needle filled already filled and ready to go.  Her eyes widen as he prepared to use it.

 

“Have I mentioned I’m the fondest person of shots?” she asked lamely.

 

The man with shot descended upon her bare arm, and Buffy drew in her bottom lip as she prepared for the sting.  Then, a shot blasted through the green house, echoing loudly, as the man who sat on top of her head basically disappeared from his body.  The remains loosen its grip on her, and slid off to the side as the three look in carnage at the event.  Buffy sat up slightly and saw Becket standing at the door way, a shot gun in hand that was still smoking.

 

He raised it again at the other two men, who knew they didn’t stand a chance against the weapon.  She used this distraction to her advantage and jammed the needle into the mans knee that held it.  He cringed in pain as she leapt to her feet and the other man got to his, as she punched him hard in the face.  Both men were unconscious seconds later and she ran to join her friend.

 

“Thanks,” she said as he held the door open for her.

 

“As you American’s might say, no problem,” he answered as he shut the door behind her.  “Now, come on.  Let’s get the other and get the bloody hell out of here.”

 

“Couldn’t agree more.”

 

---

 

Part 13: Returning

 

Spike sat in the back seat of the car, watching as the dark forest passed by quickly.  He had been away for so long.  He hadn’t meant to, but he just didn’t know how he was going to face her again.  Becket had been right, the demon had gotten rid of the chip for him, but it had cost him something, cost him his demon.  Now, he had a soddin’ soul.

 

He should have known to choose his words carefully.  But did he?  No.  He had to say ‘Make me what I was.  Give them what they deserve.’   Well, won’t Buffy and Dylan be surprised.

 

He was thankful that he hadn’t turned out like the great brooding man himself.  No, he had always been too much of a realist to become like that, even with that hopeless romantic and poet that he shared his memory with.  It was in the past, it was done, and there was no changing it, no matter how much he would like to.  One reason, he supposed, was that the poof had find redemption through helping strangers, that they were his second chance.  Spike already had his, and she was hopefully sleeping peacefully in the nursery.

 

It had only been a couple of nights ago that he actually found himself laughing at the absurdity of it all.  Unlike a certain souled vampire he knew, his was already secured, lock, stock, and barrel with not happiness clause in sight.  Good thing too, with Dylan and Buffy around.

 

Like every other plan he has ever concocted that involved the slayer in some form or fashion, things didn’t go as planned and consequences were had.  This happened to be his this time.  Now that he thought of it, it was really that bad a deal.

 

“We’re here, Sir,” the driver called from up front, as the manor came into view.

 

The car came to a stop at the front entrance, and he got out as the driver hurried to retrieve his bag from the back.  The moment he stepped into the house, he knew something was wrong.  There were more people here, their sent was lingering in the foyer, and it was recent.  Very recent.  Twenty minutes recent.  He placed the bag down by the door, and began to creep through the house.

 

He moved into the east wing, picking up a strong sent that was heading like a bee line strait to Buffy’s room.  Spike came to her door and found it wide open, a stranger dressed in black standing in the nursery doorway, looking at the child that slept.  He felt his anger rise, and he vamped out.

 

“Get away from there!” he demanded.

 

The woman head shot up just as he tackled her to the ground.  Rosemary screamed loudly at the sight, and Dylan began to cry at being startled awake.  The nanny scooped her up in her arms and took off into the hallway as the two wrestled and fought on the ground.  Spike finally got on top of the woman and hit her hard in the face, knocking her out cold.

 

He went out into the hall where he found Rosemary trying to sway Dylan into being calm again, but was failing miserably.  The old woman jerked slightly, not recognizing who he was for a moment, then relaxed.

 

“Mr. Spike,” she said happily.  “I’m so happy you have returned.”

 

“Glad someone is, love,” he said.  “Come on, let’s find Buffy before sleepin’ beauty in there wakes up.”

 

“What’s going on?!” Catherine demanded, emerging at one end of the hall.

 

A shot gun blast rung through the house at that moment and Spike felt his body become even colder then it already was.

 

“Buffy,” he said in a hushed whisper as he took off to the origin of the sound, with Rosemary and Catherine tailing closely behind.

 

The group came charging down the main stair well just as two people emerged from the back end of the house, the petite blonde being one of them.  She froze at upon seeing him, and he didn’t know if she were happy to see him or not.  Dylan’s crying had died down, but the whimpering was still audible as her parents looked at each other for the first time in months.

 

When she was over the initial shock of seeing him again, she walked to him, her arms swinging hard at her sides.  He was preparing himself to be punched in the face.  Instead, she nailed him in the stomach, causing him to double over from the blow.

 

“Good to see you too, Slayer,” he said as he slowly straiten up.

 

She then reached up, grabbed the back of his head, and crushed her lips to his.  It was tight, controlled, and, most of all, happy.  He looked at her in surprise when she pulled away from him, but she kept her face even.

 

“Don’t you ever leave me like that again,” she warned sternly.  “Or I’ll have to stake your ass.”

 

He opened his mouth to point out that she had said ‘me’ instead of Dylan, when Becket cut him off.

 

“Continue this later,” he said as Rosemary handed Dylan over to her mother.  “We need to get away from-”

 

Becket yelled in pain as an arrow entered his chest, just above the heart.  He grabbed for it as he fell, the shot gun falling to the ground and sliding out of his reach. Catherine called out to him as she raced for her father.  Dylan began to scream again as Spike put himself between the mother and child, and whoever had fired the shot from upstairs.  Slowly descending down the stairs, was the woman in the commando outfit he had knocked unconscious in Buffy room.  Spike heard Buffy catch her breath at the sight of her.

 

“Lang,” she said in a low voice, pulling the wailing baby a little closer to her.

 

“Hello, Ms. Summers,” the Asian woman answered with a wicked smile as she swung the cross bow at her side.  “You’re looking well.”

 

Spike growled at the woman.  So this was the infamous Lang he had heard so much about from Buffy and that Chen guy.  Funny, there didn’t look to be a lot to her.  He took a step towards her but the cross bow shot up from her side and pointed directly at him.

 

“Uh, uh,” she warned.  “I know I don’t usually don’t do the retrieving parts of these missions, so my recon isn’t as sharp as the others, but I’m pretty sure pointy, wooden objects are a no no for your kind.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rosemary make a move for the shot gun that had slid to just a few feet in front of her.  As she went for it, a shot rang out, and the old woman fell to the ground dead.   The group of four turned to the door that Buffy and Becket had come through and saw a man dressed completely in black with a bleeding nose standing there, a rifle that he must have liberated from the security office raised and ready to fire.

 

“And bullets are for the rest of you,” Lang smiled as she finally reached the bottom of the stairs, the cross bow staying on Spike.

 

He backed up, still keeping himself between Buffy and Lang.  If she wanted her or Dylan, she’d have to kill him first.

 

“Dustin’ me or killin’ the slayer doesn’t work real for your little project. Now does it?” he said coolly, trying to buy them time so they could formulate some sort of plan.

 

“No, it doesn’t,” she admitted as she reached them.  “But I don’t know how much use I have left for you anyway, considering that little chip in your head isn’t working anymore.”

 

“What?” Buffy said horrified from behind him, clutching Dylan tightly.

 

He turned to try and quickly make her understand, but Lang spoke first.  “Yes.  You didn’t know?”  An evil smile crossed her lips.  “He’s the one that gave me this nice little shiner.”

 

“Buffy, it’s not what you think,” he tried to defend, but she was already afraid of him again, or afraid of what he would do.

 

“That’s where you’ve been?” she demanded.  “You went to get your chip out?”

 

He stood in silence for a moment, then said, “Yes.  But-”

 

“How could you?  How could you put Dylan in that kind of danger?”

 

“Buffy, please, listen.  It’s not what it seems.”

 

“Then what is it?!”

 

Lang cleared her throat, bringing the two back to the situation at hand.  “Not that I’m not enjoying this little scene from One UnLife To Live, but I do have a job to do here. Marcus,” she yelled at the man that held the rifle on them.  “Get the kid.”

 

He came towards Buffy, and Spike made a move to stop him, when Lang and her cross bow blocked his path.  Marcus kept his rifle slightly lifted at the slayer, who looked as if she had no intentions of giving up her child to this man.

 

“Catherine,” Spike heard Becket whisper to his daughter.  “When I tell you to, pull out the arrow.”

 

“What?  I can’t do that.  It could kill you.”

 

“Just do it.  Please.”

 

Catherine pressed her lips tightly together, and then nodded her head.  Spike knew what he was doing.  He was going to give them a distraction, even if it did cost him his life.

 

Marcus reached the mother and child, and he lowered his rifle as he reached for the baby girl.

 

“Now!” Becket hissed.

 

Catherine complied and a blood curdling scream pierced through the manor.  Both Marcus and Lang turned to see what was going on, and the parents took point.  Spike stepped at Lang, and knocked the cross bow upward, the arrow firing at the ceiling.  As she stared in surprise at his action, he reached back and punched as hard as he could in the face, knocking the woman a few feet away from him.

 

At the same time, Buffy took advantage of his distracted state and kicked Marcus in the stomach with a sideways kick.  When he doubled over, she kicked upward like a cheerleader, landing it right in his chin.  He did a flip in the air, and landed hard on his stomach.  With the force of the kick, Spike was pretty sure she broke his neck.

 

The room was silent for a moment, expect for the crying baby, as the group tried to comprehend what had just happened.  As Buffy rocked Dylan, saying soothing things to the seven month old, Spike slowly approached them.

 

“You alright, love?” he asked cautiously.

 

She nodded her head quickly.  “Yeah.  I’m fine.”

 

“And the little one?” he said as he reached out and touched the back of the baby’s soft head with her thin, blond hair.  Thankfully, Buffy didn’t jerk her away from him.

 

“Just scared, I think,” she told him. 

 

They stood there like that for a long while, letting the silence wash over them.  It was something they needed.  She was staring into his face, giving him the obvious look of disapproval for he had done while he was away, but saving the fight for another day, another time. 

 

When she finally turned away from him, she looked over to the side, and her face fell.  “Catherine?”

 

He turned around and saw the young black hair woman standing up from her fathers’ body.  Buffy hurried over to them, and Spike followed, but he knew it was already too late.

 

“He’s gone,” Catherine said sadly as she kept her head down and walked away towards Rosemary’s body.

 

Spike looked down at the man.  He had been right when he meet him.  They had agreed on why Dylan should be protected, but he gave his word in that he would die protecting her.  In his book, that made him a friend.  The vampire bent down to his knees next to the body, reached up, and closed his eyes.

 

“Thanks, Mate, for everything.”

 

“Ms. Summers!” a voice screamed at them from behind.  Buffy and Spike turned to see Lang holding the rifle up at the slayer.  “I believe you have something that belongs to me,” she said as she prepared a shot that would have taken Buffy’s head off.  Spike vamped out, ready to attack when another voice rang through the hall.

 

“Hey, bitch!”

 

Lang turned just as the shot gun went off, putting a nice hole through the woman’s chest.  The Asians woman face was forever frozen in shock as her body fell to the ground, right on top of Marcus’s.

 

The two turned to see Catherine bringing the shot gun down, an even look on her face as she looked at the woman she had just killed.  The weapon fell to the ground with a loud thud as she looked over at them.

 

“That was for my father,” she told them as she turned and walked away.

 

Spike got to his feet, and turned to Buffy.  Lang might have had a boss, but she was the head of the project.  Without her and her knowledge, there was no project.  That meant...

 

“It’s over?” she asked like a small child.  “We can go home?”

 

A faint smile crossed his lips as he pulled Buffy to him, careful to leave plenty of room between them for Dylan, but holding her close enough to where he could rest his chin on her head.  He kissed the top of it before saying, “Yeah, love.  We can go home.”

 

******

 

Travers sat behind his desk with his fingers locked.  So, Lang was dead.  Well, he can’t exactly say he was sorry.  To say she was incompetent was insulting to all incompetent people.  No, he would just have to play this a different way.  No more going directly after them because that was a tactic that just didn’t work.  He would have to try something else.

 

More then likely, they will head back to Sunnydale now, thinking that since Lang is gone, they will leave them alone.  He would for awhile, let them get comfortable, let them drop there guard.  Yeah, that was what he will do.  Let her Watcher even call the Council about the child, which he was confident he would do someday.  But if they thought that this was over, they couldn’t be more wrong.

 

 

The End

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