Summary: Desperate times call for desperate measures where the First is involved. In order to prevent the end of the world, Buffy asks Willow to do a spell that's supposed to fix everything, and Spike goes along for the ride.
Spike still wondered sometimes if he was dreaming, and this was one of those occasions. He and Buffy had just spent the evening patrolling, after dinner with her mother, and they had wound up at his place. Now he lay, tired but by no means exhausted, Buffy in his arms.
Her fingers were rubbing unconscious circles on his chest, and he held her close, reveling in the moment. By now Spike knew how few and far between such moments were.
“I wish summer could last forever.”
Buffy’s voice cracked a little, and Spike knew why; there were events coming which could not be stopped, and which would likely test them. “I know.”
“Dawn should be coming soon.” She paused. “Do you—do you think we’ll remember?”
Spike didn’t want to lie. “I don’t know. I think so.”
She clutched at him a little. “I know we’ve dealt with everything that’s come up so far, Spike, but—”
When she stopped, he tightened his embrace, knowing exactly what it was she couldn’t say. The previous version of the coming year had been horrible in so many ways. “It’s gonna be okay,” he promised.
“What if it isn’t?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. Spike couldn’t tell her how scared he was of losing her or of losing Joyce or Dawn. Or any of the others. The soul that allowed him to care for those outside his immediate circle would also likely make his grief that much greater should the worst happen. “We’ll get through it.”
Buffy propped herself up to look him in the eye. “I want you to promise me something.”
He already knew what it was, just from the expression on her face. “Buffy—”
“Please, Spike.”
“What is it?”
“If something happens to me—if I have to die—take care of them?”
Her sheer bravery never ceased to amaze him. She knew that death could still await, and she faced it willingly. He could do no less, whether the death was hers—or his.
Spike would much prefer the latter.
“I promise. You know you didn’t have to ask.”
“I know.” She laid back down, taking up her prior position. “Tara and Willow come back tomorrow. Are you coming to the airport with us?”
“Yeah, why not?” he replied lightly, as though they hadn’t just been speaking of endings. “Wouldn’t mind meetin’ this witch they’re bringin’ back with them.”
“What do you think she’ll be like?” Buffy asked idly, as though not really expecting an answer. “Willow said that Tara and her are pretty friendly.”
“Good for Tara,” Spike replied sincerely. “If this girl makes Glinda happy, then I won’t have any complaints.”
Buffy murmured her agreement. Spike could sense that she was just about to fall asleep. “Graham wanted to talk to us tomorrow, too. He wants to meet at the Espresso Pump around noon.”
“Flight doesn’t come in until later,” Spike said. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”
“I hope he sticks around.” Buffy nuzzled him. “I like him.”
“Not a bad bloke,” Spike agreed noncommittally.
She didn’t reply, and he realized that she’d succumbed to sleep. Spike couldn’t say that he cared one way or another if Graham stayed, as long as some of the more closed-minded elements of the Initiative left town. Although he could see that having them around might be an advantage with Glory and the Knights on the way, Spike thought they were more trouble than they were worth at the moment.
Granted, some of his business would dry up once they were gone, but he had loyal clients who trusted him now. There were plenty of demons who would still use his services to ferry important items from one place to another, or to provide security. The fact that he could guarantee that the Slayer wouldn’t interfere certainly hadn’t hurt his reputation any.
No, he hoped that the Initiative reduced their presence in Sunnydale, as Graham suspected they would. Spike knew that Buffy had enough on her plate right now, knowing what was to come, without having to worry about keeping the soldiers off their backs.
Spike shifted a bit to get a little more comfortable, then settled down to sleep. There was too much to do, and too many things to worry about at present. All they could do was to take things a day at a time.
~~~~~
Tara packed slowly, hardly able to believe that the summer had already been and gone. She’d learned so much while she was here, and had discovered so many things that she’d never known about herself. It was going to be very hard to leave, no matter how much she was looking forward to going back to her friends.
There were days when Tara could envision herself spending her life doing something like this—immersed in magic, surrounded by like-minded women, helping to keep the world spinning.
“How are you?”
She turned to see Mairead in the doorway. “Good. I just have a few more things to pack.”
“Do you not want to leave?”
Tara thought about the question. “Yes and no. This place has been—amazing, but I think we’re needed in Sunnydale, and I have friends there, too.” She smiled shyly. “And you’re coming. I’d be a lot more reluctant to leave if you were staying here.”
Mairead smiled brightly. “I had wondered. I didn’t know if—”
Tara cut her off with a lingering kiss, the other woman’s lips soft and sweet beneath her own. “I’m so glad you’ll be there with me.”
The witch nodded. “I had always planned to go, but after meeting you, it was no longer duty that called me.”
Tara resisted the urge to kiss her again. They had to leave for the airport shortly, and it wouldn’t do to get distracted. “Are you sure you don’t mind living with Willow and Oz? I know it’s a little awkward.”
“Why would it be awkward?” Mairead said, sounding puzzled. “Willow and I get along, and from what you’ve both told me about Oz, that won’t be a problem. Besides, it’s a house we’ll be renting, and there’ll be plenty of room for the four of us.”
Tara nodded slowly. She was still having trouble believing that something this good was for real, that she was going back to Sunnydale to live with her girlfriend, and her friends, in a house they were renting together.
She had known others who had made similar housing arrangements, and she’d always envied them. Although she enjoyed her solitude, Tara needed company on occasion, but she’d never thought to be in a position to be literally surrounded by friends.
“I want to do this,” Mairead said quietly. “When Gertrude asked for volunteers to go, I was the first. And this will make it easier on you.” She added after a moment’s hesitation, “We can always come back later, if you want.”
Tara looked at her in surprise. “I thought that it was invitation only.”
“Then consider this an invitation.”
She blinked. “And Willow?”
“Willow is needed elsewhere, as are we,” Mairead replied evenly. “But one day, we will be able to choose. You may not want to come back—we might not want to. If either of us choose that path, however, it will be open to us.”
Tara stared down into her suitcase, as though it would reveal the future. She knew that she was going back to face scary events, and that people might die. She also knew that her family would likely show up in Sunnydale very soon, although that didn’t frighten her much these days. She’d found the strength within herself to face them.
It had always been there, of course; she just hadn’t known about it.
“I guess we’ll just have to see,” she finally said, and shut her ancient, battered suitcase with a thump.
Mairead smiled. “I suppose we will.”
~~~~~
Graham sipped at his iced coffee experimentally. He preferred it black, but it had been too warm for a hot beverage, and he knew it would look strange if he didn’t order anything. The entire point of meeting at midday at the Espresso Pump was to be as inconspicuous as possible.
Of course, when he’d set up the meeting, he hadn’t realized that Forrest had alerted their superiors about his relationship with the Slayer and her boyfriend. He’d believed that it was important to keep a low profile, but it seemed that was no longer necessary.
Graham thought about the shiny new captain’s bars that waited for him in his quarters. The promotion had come as a surprise, even though it made sense since he was taking command of a much-reduced squad here.
Forrest had appeared smug enough about it that Graham suspected it wasn’t much of a promotion; it was likely a dead-end street.
He didn’t mind, though; not really. As long as he was making a difference, it didn’t matter what insignia he wore, or who his allies were.
“Hey, Graham.” Buffy slid into the seat across from him, offering him a friendly smile. “What’s up?”
He watched as Spike took the seat next to her, putting a couple of drinks down on the table. “The Initiative is being moved out of Sunnydale,” he said without preamble.
Spike’s eyebrow went up, although he didn’t appear too surprised. “Really? Why is that?”
Graham shrugged; he hadn’t been privy to all the reasons behind it, although he had a few educated guesses. “The mission has moved. It’s been pretty quiet here recently, and there are other hotspots.” He hesitated, knowing that he probably shouldn’t share more information than that, but he trusted these two. Rightly or wrongly. “The top brass weren’t pleased with the results of Professor Walsh’s research; they’re going back to the original mission.”
“Which was?” Buffy asked, a trace of acid in her tone.
“Protecting civilians from—” Graham paused, knowing that neither of them liked the terms the Initiative had used for demons and vampires. “Hostile demons,” he finished, settling on a compromise term.
Spike’s lips twisted into a sardonic smile, and Graham knew that the vampire understood that he was trying to spare their feelings. “Seems like a good plan,” he agreed.
“Are you getting transferred, too?” Buffy asked.
The concern in her voice warmed him. Graham knew that he’d been walking a fine line in the last months, and it was nice to know that someone appreciated his presence and his efforts. “No. I’ve been promoted.”
They both smiled, and Spike spoke first, real warmth in his voice. “Congratulations, mate.”
“It’s good to know that you’ll be staying,” Buffy said, then hesitated. “Spike, do you think…”
She left her question unfinished, but Spike seemed to understand immediately. “Wouldn’t hurt,” he replied. “It’s up to you.”
Graham waited patiently, used to their methods of conversation by now. There had been a few of these semi-secret meetings, and Buffy and Spike always seemed to have a second, silent conversation going on.
“Okay.” Buffy met his eyes forthrightly. “Since you’re staying, there are probably some things you ought to know, but this probably isn’t the place to have that conversation. When is this transition taking place?”
He didn’t question her motives. Forrest might think he was an idiot, but Graham trusted them. “In two weeks. They’ve already started shutting things down.”
“Are you guys staying in Lowell House?” she asked.
He shook his head. “It’s too big. The army has a small safe house for us. We’ll bunk there.”
“Let us know when you’re in charge then,” Spike said. “We’ll have that talk.” He glanced over at Buffy. “We’d better go if we’re goin’ to meet them.”
She smiled. “See you later, Graham.”
He nodded his farewell, wondering if the information they wanted to pass along had anything to do with the an explanation about how they knew so much. Graham hadn’t forgotten that they’d known exactly how to defeat Adam, or that they seemed to know him much better than their brief acquaintance should have allowed.
Smiling, he rose and threw his empty cup into the trash. He had a feeling that things were about to get interesting.
~~~~~
Willow rushed off the plane, searching for any sign of Oz. She knew that Tara would follow with Mairead, but they hadn’t been separated from their beloved as she’d been.
Oz was standing in the waiting area, hands in his pockets, looking as relaxed as ever. His face broke out in a smile as soon as he saw her. “Hey.”
Willow dropped her carry-on bag to throw her arms around him. He returned her embrace with enthusiasm, his tight grip letting her know just how much he’d missed her. “It’s good to see you again,” she said, when they broke apart.
“Same here,” Oz replied. “How was the flight?”
“Good. Uneventful, just like I like them.” She turned to see Tara and Mairead entering the waiting area. “Where are the others?”
“Spike and Buffy should be here,” Oz said. “Xander had to work.”
Willow nodded, disappointed that Buffy and Spike hadn’t met them.
“Willow!” Buffy’s voice caught her attention, and the Slayer wound her way through the crowd. “I’m sorry we’re late,” she said breathlessly. “We were talking with Graham, and it took us longer to find a parking space than we thought.”
Willow returned her hug, and waved at Spike, who was taking Tara and Mairead’s bags. “How was your summer?”
Buffy shrugged. “The usual. Slaying, laying on the beach, you know. Nothing very exciting.” She looked at Mairead and held out her hand. “I’m Buffy Summers, and this is Spike. You’ve probably already figured out who Oz is.”
“Mairead Harrington,” she said, shaking hands cordially. “It’s very nice to meet all of you.”
“Our pleasure,” Spike replied easily. “You lot hungry?”
Willow nodded. “Definitely.”
“A little bit,” Tara admitted.
Buffy smiled. “Good. It’s our treat.”
Willow’s eyebrows went up at that, since it was clear that Buffy was referring to Spike and herself. She knew they were dating, but her words made it seem almost like they were—married. “How was New York?” she asked.
“Fun!” Buffy grinned broadly. “A lot of fun.”
“Fun for you,” Spike grumbled. “Who was the one carrying your shopping bags all day?”
“Who was the one who offered?” Buffy asked sweetly.
Willow hid a smile at the familiar bickering. It was good to be home.
~~~~~
“How many were you cookin’ for, Joyce?” Spike asked with some amusement, coming back for another load.
She gave him a stern look. “There are ten of us here for dinner, and you’ve seen Xander eat.”
Spike grinned, then glanced around to be sure no one was close enough to overhear. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Joyce frowned. “What is it, Spike? Is everything okay?”
“I hope so. That’s what I wanted to ask.” He hesitated. “It’s about Buffy stayin’ with me for the time being. She hasn’t said anything, but I wanted to be sure there weren’t—” Breaking off, Spike sighed. “Just don’t want there to be any hard feelings between us, that’s all.”
“There aren’t,” Joyce said softly. “Buffy’s a grown woman, and she’s fully capable of making her own choices.” She smiled, meeting his eyes. “And she could do much worse.”
“Thanks.” Spike hadn’t sensed any coldness from her, but he’d wanted to clear the air. Buffy hadn’t told him how her conversation with her mom had gone, only that she was set to move in with him.
The arrangement was likely temporary, what with Joyce’s illness that was coming, as well as the mess with Glory and Dawn. It would be easier if she stayed with him until she needed to move back, if it came to that.
Joyce patted him fondly on the arm. “Thank you for asking, though. It’s nice to know that my opinion matters.”
“Always,” Spike said, then added with a mischievous grin. “’Course, we might not always listen to you.”
She laughed and handed him the platter of chicken. “Take that to the table, please.”
Spike knew how worried Buffy was; he felt some trepidation himself. At the same time, however, it was hard not to revel in the sense of homecoming. It might not last, but for the moment, things were good.
He suspected that Joyce had a bit of magic of her own to be able to seat everyone around the table, and to have made enough food for everyone. Platters were passed around, and while Spike didn’t take much, he took enough to participate in the meal with everyone else.
The Gem of Amara did a lot for him; it allowed him to go out in the daylight, and brought him closer to Buffy, but at times like this, he couldn’t help but remember what he was.
“How was England, Will?” Buffy asked, once everyone was eating.
Willow smiled. “It was good. I learned a lot.”
“And you, Glinda?” Spike asked, with a sly smile. “How did you enjoy it?”
Tara glanced shyly at Mairead, seated next to her. “It was good.”
“You brought back a fair flower with you,” Spike observed with a wink in Mairead’s direction.
Mairead raised an eyebrow. “You found yourself a charmer, Buffy.”
“I know it,” Buffy said good-naturedly. “And he’s easy on the eyes, too.”
Xander cleared his throat. “When are we going to talk about what happens next?”
“I thought we might wait until after dinner,” Giles replied. “Buffy?”
“Sounds good to me.” She shot her mom an apologetic look. “You don’t mind if we have our meeting here, right?”
“Of course not,” Joyce said. “We can move out to the living room for dessert and coffee.”
After that, the conversation turned to England, with both Giles and Mairead talking about the places they’d grown up, and Willow and Tara discussing what they’d learned while with the coven. Spike noted that Willow was a little quieter than she’d been, and perhaps less self-assured. He suspected that she’d found out she wasn’t quite as brilliant as she’d thought—or at least that there was more to magic than she’d believed.
Spike knew that a little humility could be very beneficial at the right time and in the right dose.
Once all plates had been cleaned—twice, in Xander’s case—they moved the party out to the living room. Spike settled himself next to the fireplace, leaning against the wall, deciding that it was the better vantage point.
“So, what have we got to look forward to?” Xander asked. “I’m guessing that no one is going to win a free trip to Hawaii.”
Buffy shrugged. “It could happen, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”
“Perhaps we should take it one event at a time,” Giles suggested. “What’s coming first?”
“Dracula,” Buffy said.
“Who is not goin’ to touch you this time,” Spike growled.
“I won’t be staying here, so he won’t have a chance,” Buffy said, putting a hand on his arm to soothe him. “Mom, if any tall, dark and handsome men come knocking, don’t invite them inside.”
“Handsome?” Spike asked, a little annoyed by her categorization.
She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Not as hot as you are, Spike.”
“And after Dracula?” Giles prompted.
Buffy hesitated. “Dawn and Glory. Everything hinges on how we deal with her.”
“Who? Dawn?” Joyce asked.
“Glory,” Spike supplied. “That’s what we came back to fix.”
“How much time do we have before a decision has to be made?” Giles asked.
Buffy shook her head. “I don’t know. It depends on what we decide to do, I guess.”
“We have more firepower this time,” Spike said with a nod to Mairead, “and we’ve got the benefit of information we didn’t have before.”
“Why not get out of Dodge?” Oz suggested. “Take your sister and travel for a while.”
Giles frowned. “Wouldn’t Glory follow?”
“She didn’t know about Dawn,” Buffy said. “Not until the very end, at least. We just have to keep Glory from figuring out who she is until after the stars are aligned or whatever.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Willow said stoutly. “We’ll just have to keep Dawn away from Glory until it’s safe.”
“Until then, I think it would probably be a good idea if you didn’t go out by yourself after dark, Xander,” Buffy said. “That way, you won’t end up as Dracula’s butt-monkey again.”
Spike grinned as several voices exclaimed at once, “What?”
“Dracula has thrall,” Buffy explained. “It’s probably better if you don’t find out how it works.”
Giles nodded. “Then we’re agreed. Xander won’t go out after dark alone, and Joyce won’t invite Dracula inside.”
“Wait, why just me?” Xander protested. “Dracula could put his thrall on other people, too!”
“Only the weak-minded succumb to Dracula’s thrall,” Spike observed. “Don’t think anybody else qualifies.”
Xander’s protests were drowned out by the snickers from everyone else.