This beautiful darling was created by the multi-talented beanbeans. I bows and salutes you, friend.

A/N: My grateful thanks as ever to the lovely Megan for betaing and support throughout.

A humungous thank you to all the kind people who have read and reviewed. I hope you enjoy the final chapter. There will be a sequel at some time but I’m very relieved to have completed a fic. So, without further ado and for your entertainment…

Chapter Seven

It had been Giles’ fervent desire to catch a few hours rest before settling in to wait for Willow’s report sometime late evening. Rupert should have known that his wishes appeared to hold little weight with the Powers.

The call from the coven had been the first of many disturbances that increased the aching headache which seemed to have made itself at home behind his eyes. After listening in growing agitation to the news offered by the leader of the coven, after questioning the credentials of the source, he had replaced the phone to slump back into his chair. Giles thought it not beyond the realms of possibility that he had made a mistake, a big mistake.

A seer within the coven had been gifted with a prophetic vision. Her reputation was impeccable; at seventy-five she had experienced only four other visions, all of which came to pass with unerring accuracy. Why was Rupert not surprised that this one involved Buffy? Why did he not have to stretch belief when informed that it also involved a souled vampire, ‘becoming the champion intended in place of the one who should not be gone’? What did it mean that ‘danger to the Slayer and Champion will come from within’?

One thing he had accepted without question was the statement that the Slayer and Champion, together, would prove to be the most formidable pair ever to take up the fight against evil – if they did not succumb to the ‘danger’.

Messages flew over the airwaves and searched for Willow’s cell phone to no avail. They sat impatiently in voicemail and waited to be retrieved, their urgency not influencing the physics involved – reception in the West Country was appalling.

Still pondering whether it would serve to send another delegation to rural Somerset, Rupert was rudely interrupted by an overly excited Andrew bursting into his study and babbling hysterically. It was enough to drive a Watcher to drink, but that small comfort would have to be delayed until he had unravelled the mystery of the danger to Buffy, and yet another vampire in her life. When the young Watcher In Training had calmed sufficiently to impart his news, he glowed in the burst of praise from his sometime mentor.

It never ceased to amaze Rupert that such seemingly small actions could tip the balance. Really, it did not pay to simply pour over cold facts when people’s emotions were involved; who could ever predict what the driving force of love – or hate – would achieve? One day he needed to accept that lesson; it wasn’t as if it had never been apparent to him before.

Kennedy. Indirectly, but still Kennedy. In the aftermath of her emotionally charged break up with Willow, the veteran of the Hellmouth battle had run home to daddy and poured out her own skewed version of everything that was wrong with… well, everyone and everything by the sounds of it. Her lack of loyalty could be overlooked perhaps, but the reaction of her wealthy and influential father was about to pre-empt a possible disaster.

The new Council had settled into an outward semblance of commitment to a common cause, but underneath politics simmered as power plays were made. It hadn’t taken much for Kennedy’s papa to gain ears and eyes within it with liberal spreading of whatever his minions sought; power, money, resources… revenge. Anxious to see his traumatised daughter happy once more, he had leapt on the opportunity offered to bring down the Vampire-Layer – he could not bring himself to utter her stupid name – and her gang of cronies. When daddy learned of the team being despatched in secrecy for a possible mop up of the demon variety, he wasted no time in having their orders from Giles subtly altered. The demon could be taken out – or brought back to the Council for examination, he really didn’t care – but the slut of a slayer who had failed to see the full worth of his girl, who had risked the world on numerous occasions because of her lust for the undead…she would be removed. Daddy thought this possibly harsh, but extremely fair.

Dawson, the leader of the team, had his own scores to settle with the long lived Slayer. She’d caused problems for nearly every member of wet ops, earning himself and several others reprimands just for carrying out their jobs with enthusiasm. It never occurred to Dawson that he was actually a sadistic son of a bitch who took far too much pleasure from his assignments. The temptation to get the ultimate payback, with the added bonus of some fringe benefits before the coup de grace, would have been enough to make him do the task for nothing. The fact that it was sanctioned by several prominent members of the Council was just the cherry on top – and the bonus didn’t hurt either. Getting one over on the pompous Giles would be a bit of all right too.

Rupert blessed Andrew’s long ears and his normally reprehensible habit of listening in to others’ conversation; the more people whispered, the harder the boy snooped. Chance, or fate, had placed him in a position to access a diabolical session of congratulation and plotting between some of the more traditionalist, and less ethical, Council members. The knowledge they had divulged could only have come from this room, which Rupert belatedly recalled he had not warded for some time.

It was with some surprise that Rupert discovered Buffy to be the focus of the plot, her demise its aim. No clear explanations had been gained by Andrew’s timely eavesdropping, just enough to know that Buffy was in danger. Which would mean that Willow and if present, the souled vampire, were also in the line of fire.

Adrenalin coursed through Rupert’s veins, lending him energy as he felt Ripper coming out for a cameo appearance. There was nothing like a bit of chaos for making him feel young again, giving him something he could really get his teeth into. Reaching for the phone, Ripper formulated the best course of action to take as colourful curses pushed through clenched teeth.

***

Late afternoon and early evening had passed by faster than Concorde – which could be heard nightly as a boom sounded to shatter the peace of the countryside. Buffy and Spike had been sitting and talking. Talking and looking. Looking and, now and then, touching each other. Casual, intimate touches on the hand or knee, or arm. Connecting and communicating. Learning and liking. Smiling and laughing.

Spike had been gratified at the look on Buffy’s face when he had ventured downstairs to join her. The clothes he had on felt strange but comfortable and the approval he felt from Buffy gave him the confidence to smirk a little at her. Her answering grin had been all it took to break the slight tension and they were off. Off onto a path of exploration and understanding.

The Slayer had pouted slightly on seeing Spike’s curling locks contained in bondage once more, but the damp tendrils falling from his forehead gave her enough of a glimpse for now. She’d fixed some food for herself and warmed pig’s blood for him, tea for them both. When she’d presented her convictions to him he had listened intently, considering each word and the importance behind it, before voicing his agreement with her assessment. With trepidation, Spike gave her the two truths he felt she more than deserved from him.

Buffy was so entranced by the shyness and hesitancy of Spike, the way his eyes held her own beguilingly, that she barely registered his words at first. Only when he waited for her reaction did she press rewind and feel her mouth drop open to form a bemused ‘o’.

“You have your soul?” she squeaked, her vocal cords still recovering from the shock. “How? Why? Were you cursed? What happened?”

The vampire laughed, amused at her response and promised he would explain all, but that that would entail a whole bundle of further explanations about the differences in the world he had left behind. “Not a curse.” It was all he would add for now, because there was one more thing he needed to tell her. Before he lost his nerve.

Seeing Spike hesitate, seeing him squeeze his eyes shut as if steeling himself to disclose some dreaded secret, Buffy took one of his hands in both of hers in silent support. When his blue gaze found hers, she caught her breath at the haunted look he fixed upon her. “Buffy… this is hard.” Spike swallowed before ploughing ahead. “I’m a virgin.” His head dropped, not wanting to see contempt or amusement flit across her lovely face, not wanting to see anything lost from what he already had. ‘If she didn’t think I was a nancy boy before, she will now.’

She’d never considered this, never thought that such a vital part of the other Spike would be missing in this way; a hundred plus years of sensual knowledge no longer there. If…when things got to that stage between them she would be his first. Buffy shivered at the memory of her own first taste of sex with Angel. Looking back it almost seemed unreal that she could have given him herself; hindsight truly was twenty-twenty on the vision stakes. Coming back to the vampire beside her, she could almost feel him shrinking into himself, placing small barriers against the ridicule he appeared to expect. ‘Why is it such a big thing for a girl to be pure as the driven snow but a thing of shame for a man?’

“I hope it will be special for you, when you do - ” Buffy’s voice trailed off as he raised his head and regarded her with those beautiful, speaking eyes. Some things were so the same. Buffy’s heart felt as if it were breaking all over again… and being rebuilt piece by piece to a slightly different design. Unable to hold back any longer, she leaned towards him, towards his slightly open mouth. “I’m going to kiss you, okay?”

As her soft lips met his, as his eyes shut and he lost himself to the feel of her mouth softly touching his, the intoxicating scent of her arousal chased the exhilarating sensation that flowed through his heart, his soul, his body… no one had ever wanted him before. She hadn’t said it but vampires knew. They knew when the scent told them the truth. He smelt her openness to giving him all he desired, her body and her heart. Vampires knew these things. They just had problems believing them. For now he savoured her warmth and taste as her lips softly but firmly danced with his. Too soon it ended.

Her sudden desire to go further, to just take from him, was banished with determination. Buffy thought this could be evidence of her very own demon; how her lust, once awakened, would fight to be satiated. The Slayer part of her could well be responsible, she didn’t know. Perhaps in the future there would be a right time to let loose her own restrained beast but for now she was, in the words of the song, ‘gonna try a little tenderness’. And if just one chaste kiss had this response from her, Buffy hoped that tenderness would find its own reward sooner rather than later.

The vampire fought his instinct to grab hold of Buffy and try that kiss again, and again, until… Opening his eyes his soul relished the look on her face, sure it was a reflection of his own. In synchronisation they sighed almost regretfully, and then smiled at each other with identical shyness. When her hand found its way to his cheek, a habit of hers he was beginning to enjoy thoroughly, Spike turned his head to drop a soft kiss on the steady pulse of her wrist. Her instant response, a shiver and raised pumping of her blood, caused him to grin with pleasure. His ego had never been so pandered to and he hoped this was a forerunner of things to come.

“Okay, mister. Better start your lessons on what’s the what in the twenty-first century.” Buffy reluctantly pulled away from him and crossed to that modern oracle, the television.

***

As the taxi started up the drive to the cottage, Willow’s previous optimism had returned. She had once again convinced herself that her actions were in complete balance with what would be expected of a best friend; go rescue Buffy from possible bad decisions and a monster thrown out of a temporal distortion. She was confident that any objections Buffy could possibly have at her sudden appearance would soon be put aside when she appreciated the back up Willow could provide in the current situation. A quick call to Giles should pacify the Watcher – then they could get in some fun. Simple.
.
***

His mind hurt. Spike knew he was not unintelligent, his education was second to none but this… It was beyond his imagination – and he had a good one of those as well.

Horseless carriages – cars – raced and roared their way across highways that had not existed in his time. Man had reached the moon and walked upon it. Moving pictures with accompanying sound waited to be accessed in houses everywhere, no matter the class one belonged to. Women had the vote in most of the world and their mode of dress… if he hadn’t appreciated that it was deemed normal to show so much flesh he would have whimpered in shock. Not an unpleasant shock but… It was difficult to be articulate at a time like this.

So much information to process. Aircraft that would fly, fly to anywhere in the world in mere hours. Food from countries whose names he did not recognise available in large buildings, supermarkets, for all to enjoy. Objects called computers that found data on anything you asked of it. Talking to others using various forms of telephone. And he would have to learn all this, be able to function surrounded by strangeness. The more he learnt the more he offered prayers of gratitude that Buffy was there to help him, to steer him through the mayhem and noise. And the language! English was just not the same – it would take him forever to learn all the slang and ‘pop culture references’. It stunned him, it scared him, and it excited him.

Ever since she’d turned on the television, Buffy had been amused at the changing expressions that flitted over the vampire’s very expressive face. She kept up a gentle commentary on whatever was being presented to him on the screen, watching as his attention flicked between her and the box. Buffy used the remote control to switch through the small number of channels offered, pausing when something of interest was being shown, moving on when advertisements popped up; though these seemed to interest him as much as anything else. The last channel found an old movie, just the sort of thing she used to watch with her mom, ‘Gentlemen Prefer Blondes’. Buffy paused for a nostalgic moment as Marilyn Monroe purred huskily that ‘Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend’ as she moved in sultry sensuality to the music.

Almost with shame, Spike’s cock reacted to the sight of the blonde siren that now entertained him in something called a movie. It took him a second to focus on the words of the song she was warbling to before cursing himself for forgetting all about his earlier find. Leaping from the sofa he had sped upstairs and back again in moments, the small leather pouch offered to Buffy. His brief version of the childhood events that had led him to search within the fireplace produced the anticipated gasps from Buffy. When she tipped the sparkling stones onto the table her eyes nearly popped from her head.

“Wow,” Buffy murmured, enamoured by the pretty lights thrown out be the beautifully cut gems. She only pulled her enthralled gaze away when Spike started to chuckle beside her. “What?”

“It’s true then, diamonds are a girl’s best friend.” Spike couldn’t hold back his amusement at the reaction to the precious stones.

“Not at all,” Buffy started indignantly before smiling winningly at the vampire. “I was kinda hoping you might be.”

And there they were again, looking at each other with… The sound of a car and crunching gravel had both looking towards the obscured window. Without words the diamonds were scooped back into the pouch and thrust into Spike’s hands. In silent communication, Spike took himself back up the stairs and poised, ready to give Buffy his support if anything unwelcome were about to descend upon her.

Buffy frantically looked about for anything that would give away signs that a vampire was currently in residence. Satisfied, she ran nervous hands over her white blouse and cotton trousers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before moving to the front door. She opened it on the first knock, her jaw dropping to discover Willow on the other side and a taxi moving off.

“Surprise!” Willow fought to keep her perky grin in place at the evidence that ‘surprise’ might easily be better described as ‘shock’. And a not pleasant one at that. The grin became a pout. “Thought you might be a bit happier to see me, Buffy.”

“Willow,” Buffy managed, just, in the best welcome she could produce. “What are you doing here?” She moved aside to let the redhead enter, automatically reaching to help her with her luggage. ‘Silly question, Buffy. Looks like she’s come to visit – for a while if the size of this bag is anything to go by.’

“Well, you know… been busy and Giles thought I could do with a break. And what with not seeing you for so long - and oh, yeah – then there was that temporal disturbance last night somewhere round here that Giles wants us to research. Did you notice that – the temporal disturbance?” Willow had wandered into the drawing room, eyes flickering about and taking note of all the goodies the Council had spent their money on here. Nice pad and she’d enjoy hanging out in such a cool place. Flopping onto one of the leather sofas, Willow noticed that Buffy was still standing in the doorway, eyes glazed. “The temporal disturbance? Notice any nasties? Had to do some slaying on your vacation? Buffy?”

“What?” Buffy was the first to admit that her multi-tasking skills had become a mite rusty over the last few months. Her shock at finding Willow on her doorstep had rapidly, too rapidly been overtaken by the shock of the Council’s knowledge of the ‘temporal disturbance’ that had occurred last night. ‘At least I know the proper name for it now. And that the Council is oh-so-surprisingly after whoever came through it. So not gonna happen!’ With an effort, Buffy dragged her attention back to Willow who was regarding her in some amusement, and some concern. “Sorry, Willow. Just so surprised to see you. How long are you staying?”

“Oh, thought we’d do the investigating and slaying for the boys back in London – then get some us time in. You can show me the sights and we can have some fun. Like the good old days. It’s what best friends do, right?” Willow wondered if she’d need to hint in order to get some refreshment. Her parched throat put paid to that idea, not wanting to wait for Buffy to get a clue. “Anything to drink around here?” popped out of her mouth, Willow leaning back in comfortable satisfaction as Buffy became more animated.

“Of course, sorry. Tea?” Buffy barely waited for the affirmative before dropping Willow’s bag and flying to get the kettle on its mission to boil. Grabbing the bag again, she dashed up the stairs and almost knocked Spike flying, only just catching his arms in time to steady them both. She tugged him into the smaller bedroom and let Willow’s bag fall to the floor.

“One of my friends, Willow, works for the Council - “Her whispered explanation was halted as a cool finger pressed gently to her lips; she resisted the temptation to find out its flavour with her tongue.

“Vampire, love. Heard everything. You did mention her a lot in your journals so I know who, and what, she is.” Spike’s voice matched Buffy’s in volume.

“Okay. You need to move all your stuff back into the other bedroom, make it look like you haven’t been in here. Oh, and the same for the bathroom. Gotta go.” Buffy took the opportunity to press a quick kiss to his mouth before leaping back down the stairs as quietly as she could and making tea for two. She left a smiling vampire in her wake, hastening to carry out her instructions.

When Buffy carried the tray containing all the tea making paraphernalia expected in England into the drawing room, setting it onto a rather nice coffee table, it barely registered that Willow had taken to browsing the room. It didn’t click that her friend was now putting back in place the journal Buffy had started to write in earlier. Not until Willow spoke.

Trying to keep all traces of hurt and accusation from her voice, yet apparently failing miserably, Willow turned to stare at the Slayer who was occupied with pouring tea into pretty china tea cups with matching saucers. “Well, the investigating part didn’t take as long as I thought it would. Guess you’ve been too busy - ” Unpleasant insinuation lay on the word, “with Spike to bother letting us know what happened.” The old deer caught in the headlights look on Buffy’s face was enough to give Willow a savage feeling of satisfaction. ‘Yeah, caught you out, missy! When I think of how worried Giles and I were and all the time you just had to phone and let us know. I s’pose you’ve been too busy doing the horizontal tango with this temporally disturbed Spike.’

Many would recognise the sudden tightening of face muscles, the minute thrust out of her chin and squaring of shoulders that indicated a slayer preparing to face off against an opponent. Willow should have been familiar enough with it to read the signs but her annoyance at being kept out of the loop - on ‘things that have happened in the last twenty-four hours in the life of Buffy’ - fed a possessive streak she would never admit to having.

“You came here to spy on me?” Buffy’s now narrowed eyes fixed on Willow suspiciously. “Jeez, Willow, if you and Giles had been so worried about this temporary thing you could have called Rose, got her to pass on a message. I would have - ”

“It was Rose who let us know that something was up, what with all the blood. The redhead watched as that piece of information scored a hit on her friend. “She came here early and found blood on the walls, the floor and in a pot. Giles and I were just worried that something had got you or was trying to trick you. We care about you, Buffy. All you had to do was call and –

“And what?” Buffy had recovered from the news that Rose had come into the cottage earlier and stumbled over what must have come as quite a shock to the woman. ‘Poor Rose. Okay, that explains her being a bit off this morning, and not in a position to deliver messages.’ “Willow, this happened last night. I’ve been a bit busy, okay? The blood was his, not mine, so there was a bit of repair work to do. And, strangely enough, we were both a bit tired after all the excitement. I’ve been getting clothes from town and just getting to know him. Excuse me if I didn’t think about letting the Council know. Especially after the spectacular silence from you all about Spike being back before, about him being—” Some strong swallowing choked back the tears that threatened, tears of anger and betrayal that she had not yet forgiven her friends for.

“We were just trying to protect you, Buffy. That’s all we ever do. You get yourself into these situations with vampires and it’s up to your friends to help you out.” Willow believed every word she spoke. “We saw how you mourned after Sunnydale. If he had been in contact with you once he got back fine. But he didn’t and we didn’t want to see you hurt again.”

“Did it never occur to you that for once it was up to me to make the first move? I could have gone to him. Slayer here, not exactly unable to move.” Buffy didn’t want to go into this with Willow; she didn’t feel that her friend deserved to know all the ins and outs of her emotions. And why was it okay for them to withhold information of the life changing kind, and not alright for her to have a few hours with knowledge they just might be interested in knowing?

“I don’t see why you’re getting so upset about it. It’s not as if you loved him or something.” Even Willow couldn’t miss the stricken look on Buffy’s face. “You didn’t, did you? You never said a word.” Buffy would have told her, told her best friend.

The tears had forced their way out and now made a stinging trail down Buffy’s face. “I did say a word. I told him, just before… He didn’t believe me.”

“Oh, so now you just pick up with a vampire that popped out from who knows where? We have to take him back to the Council and do research, tests and –

“There is no way the Council is touching Spike! He’s no threat to anyone and I won’t let you do tests – what sort of tests? And who is this ‘we’? ‘Cos you can’t seriously think that I’m gonna help you out here.” Buffy was getting a bad feeling about this. Having Willow turn up and interrupt her bonding with Spike was bad enough. Having the Council want to interfere was something to be very wary of. Arguing with Willow was starting to give her a headache. Buffy absently rubbed her temples; Giles would have empathised. Tea making had long been abandoned.

“Come on, Buffy. We both work for the Council. Surely you can see that something this unusual needs to be studied. I’m sure they’ll let you see him now and then.” A faint growling sound caused both heads to turn towards the door.

Spike stood there, tension evident in the way he held himself, ready to move into action should the need arise. Buffy was beside him in a moment, quickly finding his hand and squeezing it in reassurance. Willow stared at the couple, finally letting the obvious sink in. Buffy wanted Spike, and Spike - any Spike it appeared – wanted Buffy. It would have taken someone with a whole lot less intelligence than Willow possessed to mistake the way they looked at each other. If Dawn had been present she’d be making with the yakking noises. Giles was not going to be too happy about this development. Which finally reminded her.

“Yikes! I’ve got to go call Giles. There’s a team standing by to come to the rescue if he doesn’t hear from me before midnight. I’ll, er - ” One look at the absorbed pair persuaded her that a little walk would do her good and give a welcome stretch to her legs, and let the embryo lovebirds have a few minutes to themselves. “I’ll just go for a stroll up the hill before it gets dark, tell Giles the cavalry won’t be needed.”

Buffy dragged her eyes away, breaking her silent communion with Spike. “There’s a team around? What sort of team? Don’t tell me it’s a wet ops team.” At Willow’s somewhat sheepish nod Buffy let out a huff of annoyance. “And the fun just keeps on coming. Just what are you going to tell Giles, Willow? I warn you now, you’ll have to use your magic if you think for one moment that I’m letting you take Spike to the Council. And if you do I’ll never forgive you.” The determination that shone in Buffy’s green eyes left Willow in no doubt of the sincerity of her words.

“She won’t, love.” Spike had almost felt the moment the redheaded witch let go of her anger and listened to Buffy. He also knew, through the tear splashed pages of the journals he’d been privy to that Buffy loved her friend dearly, even if she’d been a little too ready to accept Willow’s opinion as gospel in the past. It would hurt Buffy terribly to break irrevocably from her imperfect friend, and something he wanted to help avoid. “Willow is your friend. Not perfect, mind.” Spike grinned at the look of indignation thrown his way by said witch before continuing, “but she is your friend. I hope she always will be.” The look he directed towards Willow held a hint of challenge, asking her to stand on the side of the Slayer, whether she approved of her decision or not. It had been a long time since Willow had left any sort of challenge unanswered.

Finding a lop-sided grin twist her lips without volition, Willow wondered if all versions of Spike everywhere held that bit of charm, that direct honesty and dry humour, and decided that knowing just two of them would be more than enough for her. Buffy too, by the look of things.

“Nice to meet you, Spike. Maybe we can get to know each other too?” Willow giggled at the look of surprise from both Spike and Buffy. “Hey, never too old to learn! I can be all open-minded girl and I’m not blind – well, not always.”

In a moment Willow was being hugged for the first time in what seemed forever by her friend. When they broke apart from each other, both openly weeping now, a hesitant Spike hovered nervously behind Buffy. Grinning through her blurred vision Willow thrust out her hand towards the vampire, finding it coolly but firmly grasped for a few seconds. Swiping the tears from her eyes, Willow gave a little shrug. “Okay, guys. I’ll just take that walk and get Giles to get rid of that team and feed him a line that there’s nothing here to see. Give you some time. But you will need to talk to him, Buffy. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Buffy reluctantly agreed. “But not now. It’s too soon. And you’re gonna have your work cut out convincing me that Spike being anywhere near the Council could be a good thing.”

With that Willow was content. “That is so a discussion that can wait until tomorrow. How long do you think it will take me to get a signal for my cell?”

“About five minutes or so. Come on, I’ll show you the path.” Buffy was buzzing. As she escorted Willow out of the cottage and pointed her in the right direction her whole body felt energised, her mind and heart gliding upwards. She couldn’t remember ever having felt this way before, not once in her life. In less than a day so much had changed and she, Buffy Summers, had gained more gifts than she felt she could possibly deserve. Spike first and foremost; he was going to find it mighty hard to get rid of her – not that she thought he wanted to. ‘I’ve only go to look at him. Eyes that are so the window to his soul. And I love it that it wouldn’t have actually mattered if he hadn’t had it, the soul. Soul, schmoul.’

Entering the cottage, Buffy had started frowning. Something was niggling at her, warning her that something wasn’t quite right. Her instincts were starting to give her that sense of danger, a feeling she had learnt the hard way never to ignore. Spike was there, head tilted to one side and a questioning gaze directed her way.

“Trouble?” Spike hadn’t needed to ask. Whatever his Slayer was feeling was creeping over him too. The atmosphere of reconciliation had vaporised to be replaced by a sense of almost imminent peril. Inside his normally recumbent demon stirred in anticipation of conflict; it also wanted a chance to wrap its senses fully around Buffy, inhale and taste her, see if she could like him too.

Buffy had started to chew on her lower lip, nodding before moving into action. “We leave. Just need a couple of minutes to get our stuff together and then we’re out of here. Something about that wet ops team is getting me all wiggy. They’re more than a little gung ho and I don’t have that much faith in the Council being able to control them. Would be just like them to ignore… Damn! Giles might not be able to reach them!”

They were in the bedroom by now, Spike her silent shadow, taking bags from her and automatically clearing drawers containing wispy clothes he would have liked to have studied further, into its depths. Buffy had the other bag and was pulling clothing from hangars, throwing them in haphazardly as she hurried. Journals were tucked into the side pocket, toiletries and cosmetics wedged in beside shoes and boots. When it looked as though her tugging was about to break the zip - as she struggled to close the overfull holdall - a cool, steady hand halted her. In moments, Spike had repacked some of the items into one of the other bags, closed all zips and they were on their way downstairs.

Buffy had just dropped her burden to grab the pig’s blood from the fridge when Spike started growling softly. His demon was to the fore and startled the Slayer with its magnificent ferocity. Golden eyes fixed upon her almost mockingly, daring her to reject him, asking her to accept him as she had the man. No thought was needed as Buffy placed a careful kiss on his lips, avoiding the impressive fangs. “Trouble?”

“About to arrive, love.” Spike’s voice was slightly distorted but undeniably his.

Wood screamed as the front door splintered and collapsed inwards under a strong blow. The Slayer and vampire poised to meet the attack, both wearing anticipatory grins.

Then everything was a blur as trouble burst through the damaged opening.

***

Willow ran as fast as she could down the path in the gloom of twilight. All the way she muttered prayers, asking the goddess that she be in time, imploring her to keep Buffy… and Spike, safe.

Her cell had started to indicate messages waiting for her as she reached the crest of the hill. Listening to the first one brought a smile to her face, so she was unprepared for the news that Giles disclosed to her. Conspiracy and mutiny in the Council. Orders to kill Buffy. Kennedy’s dad? Andrew on his way with a hand picked team of Watchers. Willow had lost the signal as she started to run down the hill again, gathering momentum with every leaping stride.

Swinging round the side of the cottage, Willow grasped her aching side as she took note of the Range Rover, just visible as twilight fell into night, parked halfway down the drive. And the cottage door hanging off its hinges. No sound came from inside. Cautiously, magic at the ready, the witch made her way inside

***

“Well, that was an anticlimax!” Buffy pouted at the pile of unconscious, black-clad men cluttering the hallway. She’d only managed to take one out in the time that a laughing and evilly grinning vampire had knocked out the other three with some seriously interesting moves. The Slayer anticipated some training bouts coming up in the near future. She’d almost forgotten that he could hurt humans and had been thankful to see that, although he clearly relished the violence, he also had immaculate control. Even now he was bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, blue eyes alive with mischief.

Spike shrugged apologetically, unable to keep from smirking. “Can’t help that, love. Was a bit of fun, that’s all. Guess we were both wrong about the trouble, eh?”

It started as a giggle but had grown to a deeply amused laugh by the time Willow coughed to make her presence felt. Spike grinned at Buffy and nodded once, letting her know that he had sensed Willow’s presence and hadn’t been taken unawares by her friend’s return.

“Guys, you weren’t wrong. There’s trouble.” Willow, having gained their full attention brought them up to date with latest developments.

A short discussion later and they had all agreed. Time to leave. The Council had kindly provided them with transport that could be put to use, for a short while at least. By the time Willow had found her bag and started lugging it from the house, Buffy had packed away the blood in its insulated sleeve and stowed it away safely. The barely used journal that she had meant for Giles was packed away too; no point in leaving valuable information lying around for the council. It was bad enough that the cell downstairs now contained four unconscious employees of said council. Rose would no doubt let them out soon, or Andrew – if he could find the key which now resided under the mattress of one of the beds.

Buffy silently thanked the cottage that had been such a big part in healing her. Another gift, one for which she would be forever thankful.

The sound of the car being started snapped her out of her reverie and directed her to where Spike stood nervously beside the open back door of the vehicle. ‘My most precious gift. Can’t wait to unwrap you properly!’

Spike took the bag from her and settled it with the others. Seeing these contraptions on the moving pictures was one thing, standing near one and being expected to enter it was something a whole lot more daunting. He watched as Buffy sprung up into the back gracefully, bracing himself to follow her.

Seeing his hesitation, Buffy smiled and leaned towards him. “Take my hand.”

The vampire, with hope that it was more than her hand that she offered, took firm hold of her warmth and leapt up beside her, fumbling the door closed behind him.

Willow let off the brake and took to the roads, getting as much distance between them and another gathering storm as she could. Glancing into the rear view mirror she had an unexpected shock. The fact that the pair of them were entwined in each others arms - exchanging kisses that had passed the hello stage and were seeking entrance to the getting to know you level – was not a surprise to the witch. The fact she could see both of them was.

“Oh, my. Definitely not in Kansas anymore, buddy.” Grinning happily, Willow the getaway driver reached a decent road and put the pedal to the metal, taking her friends to their next destination. Giving them time, the most precious gift of all.


THE END – for now.


A/N: Well, that’s it. A little fic for Schehrezade’s birthday. I do hope you have enjoyed and been entertained. As you can see, there are lots of threads that will be passing over to the sequel, lots of unanswered questions.

Thank you for the reviews – they do mean a lot and I relish each and every one. Good-bye – for now. Hugs, y’all!