Chapter 2

The meeting broke up following the exchange between Angel and Giles.  Angel wasn’t in sharing mood and Giles sensed that no amount of pressure would force any further disclosures at this stage.  He could wait.  No doubt it would all become clear with time. 

The attendees gradually drifted away from the table, but Dawn remained in the same position as before, head bowed, hands clasped and seemingly oblivious of her surroundings.  Fred was excitedly offering a guided tour and muttering something about a trolley full of firearms.  She was talking so fast it all became jumbled up and giggly.   

Xander declined the invite and said he was going to crash.  Angel sent for a lackey to show him where he could sleep, and grinned at the fawning that accompanied the lackey’s arrival.  Giles observed it all silently. 

Eventually, the room was empty save for the vampire, the ex-watcher and the former key.  The silence was becoming uncomfortable when Giles cleared his throat and removed his glasses once more. 

“Angel, I know this isn’t really the time but… were you aware of what the amulet would do to the person wearing it?  Did you give it to Spike deliberately?” 

“I did NOT give it to Spike!  I gave it to Buffy, and no – I didn’t know what it’d do.  It didn’t exactly come with an operating manual.  And I don’t know if Buffy told you but I intended to be the one to wear it in the final battle.  Brooding and dark I may be but I’m not anxious to end up swirling in the wind just yet.  If I’d known…” 

His voice tailed off, his head bowed as he gathered himself.     

“Look, Giles, it’s late.  The others are all off getting the Fred tour, which takes a while, trust me.  Inheriting the Chief Exec’s chair here comes with responsibilities and I’ve got an in-tray full of documents to go over.  Let’s continue tomorrow when everyone’s rested.  I’ll get someone to show you and Dawn to your rooms.” 

“NO!  I have to be with Buffy!” 

Both men were startled by Dawn’s explosive reaction.  She hadn’t uttered a single word throughout the meeting or shown any signs of listening to any of the conversations.  The teen’s eyes were wide, her face white and haunted.  Unshed tears glistened in her eyes and her bottom lip trembled, but the Summers’ determination had returned and she fought the rising emotions that threatened to overwhelm her.   

“Of course, Dawn, you can stay where you want.  Isn’t that right, Angel?” 

Angel squashed his disappointment.  He had wanted to be the one to watch over Buffy as she slept.  But of course, he had no right to do that.   

“Sure it is, Dawn.  Come on, I’ll take you up myself.”  He couldn’t resist another peek. 

***************************** 

The following morning found Lorne lounging in Angel’s office awaiting the gang.  Angel himself had spent the night in one of the guest rooms as Buffy and Dawn had taken his.  Not that he had slept; Lorne didn’t need an aria to tell that the vampire was running on empty.  Angel was pacing and clearly not rested. 

“Angelcakes, what’s with the rug-treading?  Bed not comfy?   Dreams not relaxing?” 

Angel turned and glared at him. The smile on the green demon’s face faltered as he took in the maelstrom of emotions going on behind Angel’s eyes.   

Luckily, at that moment Fred and Wesley walked into the office chatting amiably about the 24-hour catering facilities.  “….so I just said to him that I liked tacos for breakfast.  He did let me have them, but he was muttering under his breath about antacid tablets.  I mean look at me…do I seem as if I have any problems with indigestion?” 

Wesley laughed at Fred’s account of her run-in with the chef.  She must have a cast-iron stomach to cope with all the spicy food she guzzled, and for a small-framed woman she could certainly put it away.  He realised he was gazing at her like a love-stuck fool, so he briefly closed his eyes to centre himself and cloak his emotions once more before going to lean against the wall facing the other occupants of the room. 

Gunn came in shortly after and took up a seat on the couch.  Lorne glanced at his appearance and gave a low whistle of appreciation. 

“Charlie boy, you must have been sneaking into old Lorney’s dressing room when my back was turned…that’s some serious threads you’re sporting there.”  

“Hoodies and combats don’t go down well in court, Lorne.  Dress to impress, you know?” 

“I do, sweetcakes…just didn’t know that you did.” 

Gunn swallowed an angry retort.  The demon didn’t mean to diss him, and after all, it was a transformation from his usual wardrobe.   Since he’d received the enhanced lawyer package, he’d realised he’d been feeling out of the loop that for a while, unappreciated.  He’d once been the leader of the pack, the main man, top dog; but since he’d first stepped in to aid Angel, he’d accepted the role of lieutenant, deferring decision-making to the vampire.  It wasn’t that he was less able; just meant he took a back seat that was all. Didn’t mean he had to like it, though.  Forcing a smile, he cuffed Lorne lightly round the ear then settled back into the soft couch.   

Giles was next to arrive, rounding the corner and cleaning his glasses with his handkerchief as he came, clutching a large notepad under his arm.  Replacing his spectacles he scanned the room, smiling easily at Wes and taking a seat off to one side.  Wes returned his smile.  The two ex-watchers had lost touch since Buffy quit the Council, but both men were of similar background and had found America bewildering and strange when they had first arrived.  And bearing in mind the Slayers they had ended up with, who could blame them?  It was common ground for them to bond over. 

Andrew wandered in, bleary-eyed and spiky-haired.  And that wasn’t a pun; he’d obviously modelled himself on William the Bloody as he stumbled into the room, tired eyes ringed with kohl and flapping his black duster behind him.  Lorne chuckled.  The kid just couldn’t pull it off and ended up looking like a sad, washed up, vampire wannabe instead of the “big bad” he was aiming for; but cute, in a kicked puppy dog kinda way. 

Xander slipped into the room, unnoticed by most of the occupants. He immediately took up post in the most remote corner and sank into the shadows.  Lorne’s empathic heart ached for him; he swore to himself that he’d do all he could to help restore the broken man before him.   

Willow and Kennedy strolled in, hands linked and obviously smitten with each other’s company.  But even so, Lorne could sense a reticence on the part of the red-haired super-wicca that the young Slayer was entirely unaware of.  He didn’t need to hear them sing to know where this relationship was headed.   

Faith had sent a message to say she’d be in later; Robin was feeling a little perkier and she wanted to spend some time before getting suckered into the next round of explanations.   

Everyone settled into their chosen positions, chatting amiably with their companions and ignoring the growing anxiety and anticipation in the room. 

All heads swivelled as the heavy door opened inwards to reveal the small yet commanding figure of the Slayer, flanked by her taller sister.  Willow’s heart plummeted as she recognised the look on Buffy’s face – she’d seen it before, they all had.  She’d lost heaven again. 

****************************

Buffy stared down at her feet.  She wasn’t ready for this.  She knew there’d been some sort of debriefing yesterday about the final confrontation with the First Evil and that all the gaps had been filled with first-hand knowledge, except one.  Since rejoining the gang on the bus, she’d spoken to no one about what had happened.  She’d briefly responded to a question as to what had caused the Hellmouth to implode with a whispered “Spike” but nothing further. 

And now everybody was looking to her to describe his part in the victory.  Just thinking about it her eyes filled with tears and she drew in a ragged breath.  

Moving quickly to wrap her arms around her sister, Dawn looked up at the assembled group and shook her head slightly.  Leading Buffy over to a chair off to one side of the couch she deposited and settled her as if she was an invalid.  Lightly stroking the slayer’s hair, Dawn perched on the chair arm and faced the group. 

The silence was uncomfortable and Lorne’s eyes darted around the room willing someone to start a conversation.  Buffy seemed oblivious, lost in her own reverie, looking down at the folded hands in her lap. 

Willow was the first to speak. 

“So, Fred, you get to play with all those toys we saw yesterday?” 

The group breathed a collective sigh of relief.   

“YES!  And you should see the things we’ve got in the vault.  I’ve even got staff – little old me!  They keep calling me Miss Burkle and looking to me for instructions.  Very strange – I keep looking round for my mother!  And there’s this one guy, Knox, who is always bringing me coffee and doughnuts.” 

“Aha!  Do I sense a crush developing!” Willow teased, not noticing Wesley’s jaw clench at her words. 

Lorne, the all seeing and all-knowing, noted the reaction however and added it to the Wesley file he held in his head.   

“And I believe there is a never-ending source of research material; am I right, Wesley?” Giles questioned. 

Happy to be able to drag his attention away from black thoughts of Fred’s assistant and crushes, he turned to face his fellow ex-watcher.  “Yes; and in an unusual way.  You saw the books yesterday, on the tour?” 

Giles nodded. 

“Well, essentially they are access points and can become any printed work.  Not only in this dimension either – although I’m not sure if there are limitations as to where material can be retrieved from.” 

Giles’ eyes now had a glazed look.   

Willow sniggered.  “That’s done it!  A never-ending library – we’ll never see Giles again without book-drool.  Look at him – he’s found Nirvana!” 

The mood had lightened considerably by the time Buffy sat forward in her chair.  As conversation faded and all eyes turned to the petite blonde, Dawn looked over her shoulder to meet her sister’s gaze and smiled slightly, willing Buffy to take strength from her and to get this over and done with.   

The slight form of the Slayer was hunched up, tense, her hands clenched together in her lap, lacing and unlacing her fingers over and over.  Eventually, when the tension levels in the room had risen again, she began to speak, her soft voice barely reaching the others, who strained to hear her.   

“I guess you know what happened in Sunnydale, with the potentials and all.  So I won’t go over that again.  Dawn’s told me that you’ve all been filled in on the battle in the school, except…….” she halted, drew in a deep breath then continued, “..except for the end.”  Here she paused again, dipping her head and taking small breaths in an attempt to calm her shaking. 

Dawn tentatively reached down into Buffy’s lap and grasped one of her hands in her own.  Looking back up at her sister, Buffy’s face was ravaged by pain and silver tears ran silently down her cheeks.  Dawn’s own eyes threatened to overflow but she managed to smile encouragingly. 

Buffy continued, looking ahead of her blankly, tears falling unheeded.   

“We were in the thick of the battle.  There were so many of them, so many…and they just kept coming.  The potentials were doing what they could, but without slayer strength they were easy targets.  Some fell.  Faith and I got stuck right into the fray and Spike…” 

Her voice broke at that point, her bottom lip quivering as she panted painfully.  The raw emotion on her face caused even the battle-hardened warriors to get a lump in their throats.  Angel couldn’t even watch, and was staring at a point above her head.  She was obviously in great pain, and it burned him inside to see her like that.   

Gaining some modicum of control, Buffy continued. 

“Spike was slashing and staking, violent as ever.  Delighting in the mayhem, he was, laughing as he struck out all around him.”  A small smile crept onto her lips as she recalled the glorious sight he made, grinning like a maniac and twirling amid the hordes of ubervamps.  His duster flared out behind him as he continued his ballet of death.  He’d been majestic.   

“Then we all felt the surge of power shared when Willow’s spell kicked in.  The potentials reacted quickly, making inroads on them now.  Kennedy came then and tossed the scythe to me.  God, the power… it just sliced through them, didn’t even stop when it hit bone.  I was mowing them down.  But they still came, more than we could ever have handled.” 

“I don’t know why, how, I was watching all around me – but I took a sword in the gut, right through.  I thought that was it.  I was down and everything around me began to dim.  I gave the scythe to Faith.  It was her battle now.  Mine was done, finally.  Then the First was there, looking like me, whispering and gloating.  It told me I could never win.  And before those words, that’s exactly what I thought.  Even with the amulet, the prophecy….” 

She clasped her hands in her lap, looking down and breathing deeply.   Inhaling again, she brought her head back up, resigned to telling the last bit of the tale, the eulogy he deserved. 

“I knew we had to win, beat it back.  I just didn’t think I’d live to see it.  But the gloating incensed me!  If anyone thought I was going out of this world again lying flat out on the dirt floor...  So, I gathered strength, don’t know from where even now, and I got to my feet.  Seizing the scythe again I just went for it.” 

She paused, the moisture coming unbidden to her eyes again.  Continuing in a voice husky with unshed tears, she held her audience captive with the raw emotion spilling from her. 

“And then he screamed my name.  I turned; saw him back up towards the stairs, the amulet glowing with a bright, white light.  I couldn’t look at him; the intensity of the light was too much.  The ubervamps were still pouring out of the Hellmouth so I turned away to take care of them.  I kept looking back when I could.  He was pinned against the back wall, motionless – the light started getting brighter then the cavern started shaking.  Suddenly beams of light raked the cave and any vamps in the way were dusted.” 

Her voice became small. 

“Almost every one.  He was still there, light bursting from his chest.  Then everything started to fall apart and I knew… I just knew he wasn’t coming out.  So I made a choice; neither was I.” 

Buffy looked up, daring anybody to question her.  Her fierce gaze rested on each one of them but nobody uttered a word.  Finally, she locked eyes with Angel. 

“Faith was calling me to get out but I didn’t care.  The world had all the slayers it could ever need, hundreds maybe thousands of them.  I could rest now, finally rest.  The floor was breaking up but I made it over to him.  He was right in the middle of this incredible light...  he was dazzling… his hands out to the side, palms turned outwards as though in supplication.  I finally reached him, the floor buckling up beneath me.  He didn’t even know I was there at first.  He looked so serene, bathed in white radiance, his features stark and so beautiful.” 

Buffy closed her eyes, pausing whilst she imprinted the memory again in her mind.  Not a sound was heard in the room.  Tears were flowing freely down the faces of more than one of the observers caught up in this tableau of sorrow. 

“I reached out and laced my fingers with his; willing him to look at me, see my heart.  He opened his eyes and turned towards me, looking down at our joined hands. As we stood there I couldn’t find the words to tell him how proud he made me, that he was the last person I wanted to see before I died, that I loved him.  Our eyes locked and held.  Then our joined hands burst into flames, not burning, no pain – just an exquisite connection.  Then everything else went away and it was just me and Spike.  That was when I really saw him --    Dawnie, I could see him, and we were one.  I could see his wonderful soul, in me, around me…the man he had become and had always been.  I remember drawing in a breath, thinking it was my last.  But it didn’t matter; it was right that it was so.  I just needed to tell him and everything would be right.” 

“I looked at him and I told him.  ‘I love you.’” 

Then the heartrending sobs started.  “He didn’t believe me, oh god it was too late, too late; he didn’t believe me.” 

Her words were almost intelligible.  “He thanked me, said ‘No you don’t; but thanks for saying it.’  He didn’t believe me – Dawnie, why didn’t he believe me, why, why am I here, why…….” 

The sobbing teen simply wrapped her broken sister in her arms and rocked with her.