There's a peacefulness and a rage inside us all
There is sugar, there is salt
There is ice and there is fire, in every single heart
"When in danger, when in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout." Dawn leaned over to Xander and whispered it as quietly as she could, but Willow heard it anyway and fixed her with a pained glare. Should have known -- of course someone as powerful as she was with the witchy-poo stuff would have super hearing or something.
"Hey, you're not the one with the sky falling on your head, here." Willow had an armful of bags with weird-looking roots in them, a couple of books, and bottles of powders that looked like they hadn't been opened since the days of the Arabian Nights. Or, maybe, nights of the Arabian Nights. Knights? Dawn couldn't remember any of that stuff, especially now when everything was completely wack and people were expecting her to think. "Chicken Little was right." Willow muttered something else as she tossed the stuff down on the couch, but Dawn didn't catch it.
It was more than a little creepy watching everyone run around Spike's body, which just lay there in the middle of the floor, like he was sleeping off a bender, only with some blood here and there as accent colors. Dawn tried very hard not to think of him as dead dead, just in an in-between state since everyone was sure they could bring him back, but it was getting harder by the minute. She'd believed once that they could somehow bring back their mom, too, with spells and books and incantations, but that hadn't happened, so it was hard to consider this incredibly different.
Buffy's face loomed into view right in front of her, which made Xander jump and squeak. Everyone was more than a little twitchy. "If you two are just going to sit here and be all peanut gallery with the snark and not do anything useful, I'm making you leave, okay? We're in a hurry, here. If you can't be a team player, you're no good to us."
"Giles! Giles!" Willow shouted. "I need the grimoire."
"Yes, yes, I'm coming," he murmured, distracted. Dawn got up and went to help him, thinking maybe that would fool Buffy into thinking she was being useful. Right now, she thought, more hinged on Giles's attention span than Willow's. He was the one who had to ride shotgun with her, keep her from freaking out and make sure her focus didn't waver. Earlier when Willow had panicked at having to do the resurrection, there had been a whole big "snap out of it!" scene with her and Buffy, minus, of course, the face-slapping. Everything was such a major motion picture in this house.
Buffy began the task of spreading powder in a circle around Spike's body, so Dawn jabbed at Xander with her foot to go help. He made a face at her, clearly not desiring to go near Spike's body, but did it anyway. He was freaking out in his own special way, and Dawn wondered if she was the only person who noticed it. Sometimes, she believed, it was hard for the others to get where she and Xander were coming from with their snark and their panic attacks and whatever, because neither of them had any special supernatural gifts. They weren't sure what their place was in everything, how to act, what to do. When you didn't think you had anything to bring to the table, you were a little nervous about sitting down at the table itself. If Buffy remembered a time like that in her own life, it was hard to say, and for that reason, Dawn never felt like bringing it up. Willow probably remembered being a nobody a little bit more, but that time had long since passed for her, as well.
However, right now, Dawn knew it wasn't about them and how they felt, it was about helping Spike, and hopefully helping themselves farther down the line, because Buffy was pretty sure that Spike was supposed to play some kind of major role in this whole First thing. Not that anyone necessarily agreed with that -- Giles was pretty sure that was merely the friendship talking -- yet Dawn couldn't help but wonder at the string of coinkydinks so far. If she'd learned anything from life on the Hellmouth, it was that there was rarely anything resembling real coincidence in the world.
Willow set the books down and opened each page to the markers she'd put in before. Giles came over and they sat down next to each other to compare notes. It seemed like everything was coming together, until Willow looked up and saw Buffy's twisted face.
"Buffy, I'm doing everything I can. Promise. Heart crossed, hoping to die." That clearly wouldn't help much of anything in the pain department, but Buffy nodded. She was made of pretty strong stuff, but when the cracks came, they came big, and it made Willow want to cry when she saw Buffy like this. Giles squeezed Willow's arm in that Gilesy way. It wasn't exactly a good time to tell either of them that she was on seriously unsure footing right now.
She took a deep breath at just the time everyone said, as if they were all operating off a teleprompter, "Deep breath!" Giles stared hard at her and nodded.
"You can do this. We've been through it. I have faith in you, and the coven has faith in you."
Willow looked up at Dawn. "They're hooked into the web cam now, right?" She already knew they were, could see the little red light, but it felt like she needed to confirm something, even if it was stupid. There was a lot that was comforting in the "all systems go" statement. Dawn nodded.
"Okay. Here goes." She began with the curse first, since Romany was still a struggle for her, and Giles was pretty sure it laid the groundwork for the resurrection spell, anyway. That at least was in Latin and more familiar, though no easier to say. After speaking the curse, she sprinkled some of the herbs over the circle of powder Buffy had made, then Giles ignited them both as Willow stepped inside the circle. At first it merely fizzled like a pilot light that was slow to ignite, then a low blue flame crept along the length of the circle.
"Ooo, pretty," Dawn said.
Willow threw out the last of the powders, a crushed pure white crystal that had cost a minor fortune even with Anya's discount, as she chanted the spell in Latin. The flame erupted toward the ceiling, unexpectedly changing into something resembling a crystalline curtain. Willow nearly dropped her crib sheet with all the steps for the resurrection. Though their voices were muffled, she heard Xander shout, "Holy crap!" and in a weird, watery-glassy way, it looked like they all jumped backward. It was hard to tell, though, as the curtain grew more opaque by the picosecond and she was losing contact with them already.
Well, this must be it, Willow thought. The books hadn't said anything about the fire mutating into a weird glassy curtain, but she had to run with it. They were on a path. If anything was wrong, the coven would relay instructions to Giles on what to do. Hopefully. Sometimes magic just took its own course, and there wasn't a whole heck of a lot you could do about it.
She leaned over Spike's body and made the symbols on his forehead and cheeks. Now the curtain was kind of moving, like the streaks were chaser lights on a Christmas tree or something. A low thrumming noise had begun, completely blocking her off from hearing anything in the rest of the room. Thank the goddess there wasn't time to panic, was all she could think.
A strange glow emanated from the symbols, as if there was ambient lighting underneath his skin. If Willow hadn't been so afraid of messing this up, she would stop to take notes because it was so interesting -- and she was pretty sure no one had ever done anything like this before. Hopefully this would make a good journal entry afterwards. The light stopped glowing, and then Spike opened his eyes. Hallelujah.
Only there wasn't a lot of life behind them; they looked like dead fish eyes, something empty and kind of... cruel, maybe. Willow felt for a pulse until she realized that duh, they'd been trying to turn him into a vampire.
Outside the curtain, the room was in a panic. Except for Giles, who tried to calm everyone in his best patriarch-voice. "Just because we can't see her doesn't mean it's gone pearshaped."
Buffy tried to reach inside, but her hand bounced off the shimmery wall. "What if there's, like, evil spirits in there? What if Spike just becomes a vampire without the soul part? We're totally screwed. Also, he could eat Willow if she doesn't stop him first." She frowned. "This doesn't seem like it was part of the plan."
"Well, insofar as we had a plan, it probably is," Giles responded. "There isn't much precedent for this." He glanced up at Dawn. "Anything from the coven?"
Dawn was frantically IMing the coven. "No. They just say to 'hang about and we shall see'."
"Then let's hang about and wait and see." Giles sat down again and scanned the ancient text once more, just to have something to do. "We mustn't panic until we know it's time to panic."
"That's very helpful, Ford Prefect, " Xander said sourly.
Buffy heaved a big, dramatic sigh. "He's right. We have to just wait." She peered at the curtain. "I wonder what's going on in there. I hope they're all right." She didn't want to tell them how much she feared for Willow's life if Spike came back but without the memory of what he was supposed to be. He'd tried before a bunch of times to kill Willow, and he was already kind of unpredictable. No telling what he could do in such a bizarre situation.
"Okay, okay, Spike?" Willow asked in a trembling voice, hunching over his head, snapping her fingers. "You're supposed to be undead again. Are you there?" Ohmygodtheskyisfalling. It really, really is. What if she brought him back only to be an undead vegetable? She sat back on her heels. Well, this was just great. Cut off from communication, dead-fish-eyed Spike on the floor, and no idea what to do next. She tapped his cheek lightly with her fingers, then slapped him with her whole hand. Lightly, though.
Abruptly Spike's hand shot up and he grabbed her by the throat. He blinked a couple times. "What the bloody fuck is this?!" he bellowed as he sat up, still choking her. She waved her arms maniacally.
Finally he seemed to reach some kind of focus and let go of her throat. Willow coughed just as frantically as she'd waved her arms.
"Seriously. What the fucking hell? Red. What's going on?"
"Are you are you a vamp again? You don't have a pulse."
He slapped at his body like he was looking for a pack of cigs. "Where are we? Oh, Christ on a biscuit, this is one of those absurd dreams of mine, isn't it?" He squinted at the curtain.
She coughed again. "No. No dream. I resurrected you. But you were supposed to be undead. And have a soul." Hacking a few more times, she said, "I really wish I had a grape sody about now. It would be comforting."
Shaking his head, Spike looked up at the top of the glass curtain, at Willow's hands, and then at his own. "Bloody hell." He felt his neck. "I don't feel alive. No heartbeat to speak of."
"You got killed. A few hours ago. By one of the bringer guys. We had to rush the spell and the curse."
"Oh." His face softened. "That was very sweet of you, ta." He appeared puzzled. "Huh. I guess that means I have a soul."
"Well, I don't think thankfulness is quite the litmus test you think it is."
"Don't know how else to--"
With a whooshing sound, the curtain seemed to lift up, and the little "room" was suddenly filled with a glowing light that spread out to reveal a figure. It was Tara. She was all glittery and silver and white, and it looked really nice on her. Willow's eyes went wide. Definitely had not been expecting this one.
"Tara? Baby?" Willow had no clue what this could mean, but she wasn't going to gripe about it. Well, unless it turned out to be the First in disguise and suddenly changed into a big gaping mouth that came after them with ten-foot fangs. Then she would gripe.
"You did a good job," Tara said. Her voice had that humming sound behind it, like it really was coming from another world, whatever world the curtain had come from. "I'm proud of you."
"Oh, baby. I can't believe it's you. Just to see you again" Willow began to choke, but this time not from actually being choked. Her throat hurt and her eyes stung from the emotion of it.
"I can't stay, though. There's a lot of work to be done." Her voice was so tender.
"Too right, Sherlock," Spike muttered, and then caught himself. "Sorry. Not the time for sarcasm."
Tara just smiled and held out her hand. There was a glowing orb in it, which sent out swirling showers of silvery sparks. "You did the right thing, Willow."
"I did? That's good. I was kind of worried that maybe I wasn't ready." The tears streamed down her cheeks; she knew her nose was running and she probably looked all blotchy and crappy, but Tara would never have cared about that. Still, it wasn't exactly how she'd dreamed of seeing Tara again at last.
"But you can't rest. They're all here. Devils and gods. Monsters and angels. You're the guardians, now."
"That's a bit cryptic, love," Spike commented. "Could you be more specific? I mean, if there's something you want us to do." He rubbed at his face.
"Remember to look at both sides of the coin." She tossed the orb up and caught it; the shower of sparks flew around Willow, lifting her hair.
Oh, that was just too strange, Spike thought. Not terrifically unlike his dream. Except Willow seemed a bit more benign and they weren't in a forest. Huh. So, these damn dreams really were telling him something and he'd better start paying attention.
"You've told me something like this before, haven't you? Just popping round my head like you own the place. Are you trying to tell me something, or her? The message is fuzzy, but so's the intended recipient."
Tara cocked her head sideways and smiled. "It's up to all of you."
"But what are we supposed to be looking for?" Willow asked. She seemed a wee bit frustrated, tears crisscrossing her cheeks. Spike knew exactly how she felt, and she hadn't been having cryptic informational dreams for the past few months. "I want to do the right thing, baby. I just don't know what it is."
"You do. You've always known, Willow."
He'd never had much patience for mystical crap. "Oh, that sounds suspiciously like Glinda telling Dorothy she could always go home. I hated that bloody scene. Thought it was a cruel thing to do to the lass, even when I was a vampire." Spike tried to get to his feet, but it was hard to do anything besides kneel. Like the gravity of the curtain was keeping him down or something.
That made Tara grin. "The devil was an angel once, too."
"Now you're toying with me." Spike crossed his arms over his chest in defiance.
"What? What?" Willow demanded. "Stop being cryptic with my girlfriend's ghost!"
Spike looked at her and pursed his lips. He'd forgot how emotional she could get. "This is very much like one of those weird dreams I've had. She's saying almost the same things she said in a dream before, in England. Didn't know what they meant then, and don't know what they mean now. Seems hugely impolite to taunt someone this way, you know."
"Oh my god. The world is gonna end as we know it, someone's trying to tell us how to keep it from not, you know, ending, and you're complaining about manners?"
Spike made a face at her. He pointed at Tara and said, "Big picture, Doll. Let's get back on track."
Willow rolled her eyes.
"Okay, look, what's this two sides of the coin thing? And this devils and angels. Are you telling me we need to bring the ponce in on this thing? Is that it?"
"You've known it all along, Spike," Tara said. "You keep saying, but no one listens. Good and bad in everyone." She smiled and reached out a hand, touching the side of Willow's face, and then she just evaporated.
"Tell me that wasn't the First." Spike was very agitated now and he wanted out -- now.
"I don't think so. I mean, it wouldn't be trying to clue us in on how to defeat it, right?" Tears streamed down Willow's cheeks.
"You call that a clue?"
"You know what I mean." She wiped her nose on her sleeve.
"It takes the form of people we love. It knows stuff about us. There's no guarantee just because it came in the voluptuous form of your gal pal that it wasn't the First."
Willow sighed dramatically. "And no guarantee it wasn't her. I think it was her. Doesn't my intuition count for something?"
Spike wagged an admonishing finger. "You did try to destroy the world."
"Oh, that again."
Just then the curtain disappeared with a whoosh and they were left looking at the open-mouthed faces of the rest of the gang. Giles adjusted his glasses with feverish intensity.
"What... what happened?" Dawn asked. She was staring at Spike as if he'd just well, come back from the dead, all right, he supposed he'd have to give that one to her. Without waiting for an answer, she sprang up and went to the computer and began furiously typing away.
Willow passed a hand over her face. "We... Spike came back. And then Tara did, for a little while. She left us cryptic messages. Giles, if I write it all down, do you think we can figure this out? I think it was some kind of, I don't know, code or something to help us figure out how to defeat the First."
"Or, just, you know, nonsensical ramblings from the Great Beyond." Spike rubbed his head. "Or the First itself."
Buffy was staring at him in a most peculiar way. Finally she said, "The important thing here is, are you a vamp again? And do you or do you not have a soul?" She scowled. "Am I the only person here who remembers how to stay on track?"
"Don't flatter yourself," Spike grumbled. He put his hand on his neck. "Don't seem to have a pulse. Kind of room temperature. Doesn't feel like it did the first time, though. I was actually trying to figure on the soul thing when her girlfriend--"
"There's an easier way to figure it out." Buffy pulled her hand back and punched him in the face. Since he wasn't exactly under a lot of control just yet -- he felt a bit as if he'd just strapped on the training wheels -- he vamped out and grabbed her, rearing back to sink his fangs in. Then... nothing. Nada. Didn't seem to need to bite or harm her, even though his nose hurt and he was really, really hungry. Maybe a bit more control than he'd realized. He took his hands away and sat back on his heels. He felt both a bit like his old self, and someone new at the same time. She smiled, pretty much making it impossible to be annoyed, so he shook his head, putting his human face back on. And that was also a bit peculiar, being able to change faces again after all this time.
"Guess that settles it," Xander said happily.
"Oh, you would love that, wouldn't you?" Spike threw mental daggers at him.
Cocking her head, Buffy looked at him in such a pleased way that he couldn't quite get a handle on what he was supposed to feel. Everyone still stared at them. "Have I something hanging out my nose? Stuck to my teeth? I'd be best pleased if you could stop staring at us."
"It was kinda intense. You both disappeared, we couldn't see where you went or what was happening," Buffy said.
"Neither could we." Spike grinned at her, and she grinned back. It was weird, but he definitely felt like something was going on here with them. That if no one else were in the room, she'd be all over him. Girl did always like a spot of violence, got her randy, but this was something else. That monster in her man thing, again. She was just pleased with him.
"It was kind of like a transporter beam," Xander said. "What was it like on the inside?"
"Kind of like a transporter beam," Willow responded. "Only with your ex-girlfriend all Obi-Wan's ghost inside." She looked at her hands, still shaking.
"Are you all right?" Giles asked her. He seemed to be the only person who'd taken note of the fact that she'd just spent time talking to her dead girlfriend's ghost and resurrecting a vampire replete with soul, not to mention creating a giant humming glowing glass curtain -- and that maybe she was just a little bit tired. Thank god for Giles, Willow thought. The rest of them were clueless.
"It was a little intense, like Buffy said. I think I need to go lie down for a while." And cry, too, she thought, but she wasn't going to tell anyone that. As she started to get up, Spike leapt to his feet and held his hand out, pulling her up.
"Well done you," he said quietly, the same look on his face as he'd had often back in England when they were at Giles's. Sort of... sweet and understanding, which always felt a little weird coming from him. "Whatever happens, I intend to do right by your Herculean efforts."
She pressed her lips together. "Just don't be doing anything... you know. Bad with the fangs, or something."
"No worries, m'dear." She wasn't going to tell him that when he used words like that, then she worried.
Giles, and everyone else, stood up and gathered around. "Yeah, well done you," Xander said, and squeezed her shoulder.
"That was an amazing thing you did," Buffy said softly, then hugged her. Buffy had never been much for the huggage, she tended to save it up for special occasions, so Willow was doubly grateful to get one. "And I knew you could do it. I knew you had more than just power."
"Yeah," Willow laughed. "I guess maybe there's more to work with than I realized."
"The coven says way to go!" Dawn squealed. "Well, not that way, but that's what they mean."
"We're your biggest fans," Spike said, his face very serious. She figured he was, as they said over there, taking the piss, but she smiled anyway.
"Knock it off," she mock-snarled, pushing him away, but then started to wobble. It was like being way drunk, only without the headache she usually got from booze.
He slipped an arm around her shoulder and walked her upstairs, then asked if she needed anything -- some water, a stiff drink -- and when she lay back in the bed, shaking her head, he closed the door softly behind. You'd almost never have known that he was a vampire again, or that he'd just been dead.
That was one of the weirdest, most intense things she'd ever experienced, and it seemed extra weird that it had been with Spike. Not something any one of them would have ever planned on.
As Willow stared at the ceiling, she tried to remember everything that Tara had said so she could get it all down for Giles. It had to be Tara, no matter what doubts Spike might have had. There had been nothing menacing about her presence, only tenderness and caring, and Willow was certain she had been trying to help them. It wasn't her fault that they were too dense to get the clues she'd dropped. Willow rubbed her tired eyes, allowing her hand to fall at her side, fingers uncurling from the tight fist she'd held them in all this time. As she drifted off to sleep, she was certain she felt a hand brush over hers.
Buffy stood in the kitchen, spreading peanut butter on a piece of wimpy bread that kept pulling apart. Pretty soon she'd have peanut butter and bread balls. Spike stood in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Busy day, huh?" Buffy asked, scrunching up her face and tossing the bread in the garbage. She wanted to try the casual act so that he wouldn't know how shaken up this whole thing had left her. Maintain her aura of cool slayerness.
"Nuke the peanut butter for a sec or two, it'll soften up so you can spread it."
"Thank you, Heloise."
He smiled wickedly. "How long was I gone?" Spike asked, watching her while she stuck the jar in the microwave.
She didn't believe she was up to joking about death and great beyonds and resurrections and all that, not for at least a few more days. Spike always thought everything was a big joke, but there was a difference between the casual act and the ha-ha isn't it all so funny act.
"Since last night. This morning, I mean. It was after midnight."
"I remember being in a fight. Losing, of course."
"You got one of the bringers. Big butcher knife, right in the forehead." Buffy mimed a knife sticking out of her head, which made Spike smile that sharp, gleaming smile he was so good at.
"Well done me, then. Glad you saw fit to try the spell and all. Very kind of you."
"At the very least, it's the practical thing to do. There's a reason they keep coming after you, Spike. You seem to play some kind of role, me and Giles, too I don't know what, but there seems to be some kind of plan going on."
"Still. You could have left it. You'd no idea what could have come out of that. It doesn't go unappreciated."
"Are you... happy?" She turned to really look at him finally, and he seemed even more alive than he had as a human. Always expect the unexpected with Spike, she reminded herself.
"I'm happy about being able to help you now." He said it flatly, but his eyes sparkled so much, Buffy knew there was way more feeling behind it. Spike had the big emotions, flew from the heights to the depths in nanoseconds, but she'd learned one thing after all this time with him, and that was that he meant what he said. Spike wasn't given to platitudes or mincing around.
"Not exactly an answer, but it'll do." She finished making her PB&J and threw in one for him, too. "No blood in the house right now. I bet you must be hungry."
"More than you know." He took a big bite of sandwich and made a face. "This'll do for me. Crikey. Everything tastes different again."
"I'll send Dawn and Xander down to the butcher's if you want."
"Nah, don't trouble them. Time I should go, anyway. I reckon no one got any shut-eye last night?"
"Not a wink. Big doings."
"You've a very grateful vampire on your hands, Slayer."
She considered the possibilities for a moment, wondering if she should say what she wanted to. Buffy stepped toward him, twining her fingers through his and tucking her head under his chin. Slowly, very slowly, he put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her tighter. It was going to take a long time to get him to let go of the anxiety. "Spike. I just... I guess I'm glad you're a vamp again. I never thought I'd say that, but it just seems like it's better this way. Righter. More right?"
He chuckled. "Latter." Pushing her back, he cocked his head sideways, so familiar to her now, and he had that quizzical, loving face that often went along with it. "You seem... more than pleased I'm dead again. I'm trying to figure it out, but I can't, quite."
"Me, neither." She took his hand again, inspecting his fingers, noting the lack of pulse, the whiteness of the skin, and then enclosing it in both of hers. "Maybe it's just that this is how it's supposed to be. How we're supposed to be. This was what you were when we became friends."
"Bet you Angel would argue with all that."
Frowning, she turned away. "Don't start."
"Not trying to. Just saying... I'm not sure there's many who'd agree with you that somehow we belong like this."
"And by now don't you know how little I care about that?"
He shrugged his jacket on and opened the back door. "Reckon I do, Slayer. Reckon I do." Buffy didn't want him to go, but she knew everyone needed a little recovery time and Spike still had some processing to do -- get back on the vampire bandwagon or something. "I'll get my things, then, and be back to set up shop in the basement. Your very own cellar dweller."
"Space'll be cleared by the time you get back." He grinned that funny grin again, and vanished into the morning twilight.
On her way back from the newly refurbished training room at the Magic Box, which itself was looking spiffier every day and you'd almost never guess that it had been the site of an apocalyptic battle, Buffy stopped at the Espresso Pump. Over the years she'd developed lots of good habits to become a better slayer, gotten rid of some bad ones that interfered with the job, but the one thing she'd never been able to get rid of, no matter how hard she tried, was her jones for caffeine, preferably in the form of espresso.
This was the only time Buffy got to herself now, anyway. In the past few days, Spike and Xander had both moved in to their house, and Giles had already been sleeping on the couch. Sometimes it felt... well, cozy wasn't the word she was looking for, but at least they were all friendly to a degree. But sometimes life got too crowded and she needed to retreat to other spaces. The only person, it seemed, who wasn't living there was Anya, but she was showing signs of worry, too, and Buffy wondered if she wouldn't want refuge at the Summers home next. Then there was the list of potential slayers they were trying to round up...
And still they didn't really have a plan. Giles and Willow still tried to puzzle out the messages Tara had left them, but weren't any more informed than before. Time moved too quickly in some respects, and slow as molasses in others. She stopped by the little park and leaned her elbows on the railing, watching as someone walked their squat little dog around. It was growing darker; soon she'd have to pick Spike up and patrol. These days, though, their work was over pretty quickly -- even the demons were getting nervous so the herd was thinning, and both humans and night creatures had left town in increasing numbers. Weirdly, though, they hadn't seen any sign of the bringers since that night Spike had been... well, killed was really the word. Just get used to saying it. Killed and mojoed back from the great beyond.
Buffy turned to go and was smack dab in front of a big wall of chest. "Angel!" She nearly dropped her drink.
"Good thing you were paying attention," he said dryly, though he made no effort to give her a hug or anything else. He'd been kind of standoffish, though, ever since the Spike revelations, though this was a little more distant than she'd have expected. She leaned back against the railing, trying to hold down her hammering pulse.
"Working on your surprise entrance again?" she asked, smiling up at him.
"Did it seem forced? I was trying to play it down."
"You always liked a flourish."
He leaned against the railing, hands in pockets, scanning the sky. "Town keeps changing."
"It does that. Right now everyone's leaving, so that sound you hear is probably the tumbleweeds blowing through."
"I heard."
"Via the demonic grapevine?"
"Something like that." He looked seriously at her. "I gotta tell you. We've got our own hands full with a personal apocalypse, but I'm pretty sure it's winnable. Yours... I'm not so sure." Angel made a tsking noise and gave that kind of peculiar grin to her that he usually reserved for people he didn't like much.
"Ooo... smells like team spirit." Buffy frowned. "Do you know something I don't? Or did Wes find something in his books?"
"No prophesies, no. But... this isn't a fight you can win. I know the First first-hand, and I know you, and this one... I'm kind of worried about you, Buff." He said it with way less gravity than she expected.
"Uh huh." That was what it reminded her of. Angelus. He'd gone bad again. Had the First turned him? "So, you came all this way to undermine my confidence? Or were you just in the neighborhood?" Buffy tossed back the rest of her drink and set the cup on the ground. Normally littering would be a Bad Thing, but this was definitely not the time to care about such things. Buffy noticed that the dog walker had disappeared in the meantime.
"Just stating some facts. Not my intention to be hurtful, just honest. We're busy down in L.A. Maybe you should come with, since there at least you could do something."
"Right. So, basically, me and the most powerful witch around and a vampire with a soul and one of the most experienced watchers ever are pretty much useless in the face of Sunnydale's dire circumstances."
"Buffy, you have to realize what the situation is. It's not your strong suit to plan and strategize. I'm just calling it like I see it. Maybe you could do some good down there."
Okay. That did it. "When did you lose it?"
"Lose what?" The innocent act didn't suit him at all. The one good thing about Angelus was that he at least didn't screw around with pretense.
"The soul. You can scoot on back to be the terror of Hollywood and have fun with your own little apocalypse. Because if you don't I'm going to stake you right now."
He stepped back a bit, laughing that smirky, irritating laugh. "I heard that poetry boy is back among the undead. You've got your little pep squad complete again, is that right? So powerful." Angel gave a mock shiver.
"At least he's not going to flip out on us and go evil and make me stake him." Buffy reached into her pocket and Angel sneered as she did it.
"You can't beat me, Buffy. You never could, even when you killed me."
Now Buffy got it. Of course. Sometimes she really was slow.
"No, I never really could beat Angel. But you... I can ruin you. I'm going to ruin you."
"Aw, you're such a buzzkill!" The First moved back a little more and made a grand gesture with its "hand." Things seemed to go dark around it and the air felt dead. "You've been a thorn in my side for too long, little girl. It's not enough to just get rid of you. You're going to suffer before I'm finished with you."
"And your little dog, too," Buffy sneered. "Beat it, Miss Gulch. You don't scare me."
"I can smell the fear on you. It's like perfume to me." It paused, then flashed that evil Angel smile. "They'll betray you. It's the nature of everyone -- good and evil, but evil always wins."
"You don't say." Buffy turned to walk home, completely uninterested in whether it followed her. Definitely time to talk to the gang, and give the real Angel a call.
Willow was on the phone when Buffy arrived, waving her hand at her as if she had something important to say. Except that all she did was nod and say repeatedly, "Uh huh. Uh huh. Oh! You don't say." There was a long pause. "Evil, huh?" Willow mouthed "Wesley," at her. "Coma. Oh, that sounds bad. Yeah, you probably shouldn't have done that. Those jars are really fragile." More nodding, as if Wes could see her on his end of the phone. "Okay. Sure. As soon as I can." She put the phone down.
Every time Buffy had news, someone had to come up with something to outdo her. "Now what?" She took her jacket off, trying to relax a little. She felt liked she'd been in a fight.
"Apparently Angel's lost his soul again and has been running around a permanently dark L.A. because there's an apocalypse blotting the sun. Wes just broke Faith out of jail and now she's in a weird coma thing from bringing down Angel. And, um, I'm a little unclear if the sun's back or not. But they want me to restore his soul again. They've got him locked up."
They both sat down on the couch and said, "Whoa."
Buffy couldn't help but laugh. "You're not going to believe who I ran into today."
"Evil Angel?" Willow asked.
"The First, pretending. And it told me I was going to lose this battle. That I should go to L.A. to help, like it was trying to get me out of the way here. But... Maybe I have to go battle Angel again or help Faith or something. Damn. I'm kind of tired of killing him."
Spike wandered in from the kitchen. "No worries, love. I'm happy to do it for you."
Buffy rolled her eyes, then glanced at Willow. "It's always nice to know that in the face of world doom, I can count on my vampire boyfriends to act like children."
Willow said, "Help me get my stuff together. I gotta go restore a soul and maybe with it help good triumph over evil once again. Hopefully, at least, no head injuries this time." Buffy followed her up the stairs.
Her mom had always said, "It never rains but it pours," and she'd never really understood that phrase. She was starting to understand it all too well.
At the bottom of the stairs, Spike asked, "I'm your boyfriend?"
End Ch. 10
12/28/05
My lovely cover art by X. Don't take or distribute in any way.