Summary: Set after the end of Cast Me Not Away and its follow up stories. This sequel is longer and darker than the intervening short stories. It deals with family, children, immortality, life and death, and making amends. We will also be jumping around in time a bit, so look sharp.
Author's Notes: I debated for a long time before writing this one, although the idea was there before I even finished CMNA. Some of you will believe that I have ruined the previous stories, which is fine. All I ask is that if you're unhappy with where this goes that you'll go back, re-read Cast Me Not Away through Silver Bells, and then you can flame me if you'd like. I'll calmly pull out the fire-extinguisher and ignore you, but that's alright. The themes have been there; I just hadn't quite managed to elaborate on them yet. (Oh, and before anyone screams Nika, Wesley, Spike and Buffy will survive. More than that I won't promise.)
Rating: PG-13
Chapter 12: January 2017
Wesley's SUV was impossible to miss, parked as it was outside the school. Wesley himself was standing next to it, leaning up against the door. The license plate was something of a joke between him and her dad, since it read DMNHNTR. Nobody was ever quite sure what to make of it, and they usually wound up thinking that Wesley was some kind of video game freak.
He straightened when he saw her come out of the doors, and Meg knew that all was not right. Her dad should have been the one to come and get her if everything was okay. Or they would have come together.
She tossed a quick goodbye over her shoulder to her friends and hurried to meet him. Wesley bent to meet her, and Meg felt his strong arms come around her in a tight hug. "Dad?"
"He's with your mum," Wesley said softly. "I think they need some time where it's just the two of them."
Meg pulled back slightly. "But he's okay?"
"Spike will be just fine," Wesley assured her. "I promise. I thought you might like to stay with us tonight."
Meg nodded, trying hard to hold back tears. She knew that things weren't right. Her dad might be alive, but he should have been there. "Okay."
Wesley frowned and pulled her to his chest again. "Meg, I promise that there's nothing bad going on. Spike just got a bit banged up, that's all. Your mum is going to help him feel better."
"Did he get what he wanted?" Meg asked.
Wesley hesitated, not knowing how much the girl was aware of. "He's—well, he'll be able to attend all your football games now."
"He's not a vampire?"
"No, he's no longer a vampire," Wesley replied.
Meg breathed a sigh of relief. She knew that was what her father had wanted. She'd been there to overhear the teachers talk at the parent/teacher night. Buffy had gone off to speak with one of the other moms, and she and Spike had been waiting.
"Have you seen Meg's dad? What a hottie!"
"Mrs. Summers definitely was robbing the cradle the day she got him."
"There's no way he's Meg's biological father. He's too young."
"Maybe he's just well-preserved."
There was tittering at that comment. "Meg does call him dad." This was said in a dubious tone, as if the speaker knew very well that they probably shouldn't be gossiping like that.
"Huh. If he's her real father, I'll eat my hat. The child probably has attachment issues. As young as he is, I wouldn't be surprised if he's merely the latest on a string of men. I doubt Meg even knows who her real father is, and I'll bet it won't be too long before this last is gone too. I know that type."
Spike had hurried her away at that point, the expression on his face a mixture of anger and guilt. He'd told her later that none of it was true, and that they were just jealous of her mom.
Meg could have told him that.
The girl was fairly sure that if that last teacher hadn't spoken, her dad probably would have brushed it off as sour grapes. Instead, the words had cut deeply, in places where he was most vulnerable. From discussions and arguments Meg had overheard, she had a pretty good grasp on what her dad was most afraid of.
Spike often said that she reminded him of Joyce; Buffy's mom had been able to see beneath the surface as well.
Meg wasn't sure what she felt about her dad not being a vampire any longer. She wasn't sure sure it mattered, as long as he came back, and he was still her father.
If Spike was happy, she was happy too.
~~~~~
Wesley drove in silence, Meg buckled into the passenger seat beside him. This wasn't how he'd planned his homecoming. Although he didn't begrudge the girl's presence, there were a number of things he needed to take care of at home, and it might have been easier had she not been there.
It had been Nika's idea, at least. Wesley knew that he'd be in trouble if he surprised her when she had other plans. His wife was one of the most flexible people he knew, but even she had her limit.
He'd called Nika from the airport once the plane had landed, informing her that they were back in L.A. and he would be home after dropping Spike off with Buffy.
"How bad is it?" she asked.
Wesley hesitated, glancing over at Spike, who appeared not to be listening to the one-sided conversation. "It's not good, Danika," he replied, his tone conveying the gravity of the situation. "We would have been home a few days ago, but Spike became ill, and we had to stop over in Holland ."
"You could have called," she said, the reproach in her tone painful to his ears.
He sighed. "I could have," he agreed. "Spike refused. He's afraid of Buffy's reaction, to be honest."
"Her reaction to what?"
"The fact that he's not a vampire, I believe." Wesley wasn't sure he quite understood Spike's motives. The vampire—or rather ex-vampire—had known that things would change. He'd seemed to want it. With the return of the soul, however, something had been laid bare. Some old wound had been unearthed, and Spike had become certain that Buffy wouldn't want him any longer.
Wesley'd had his work cut out for him, just convincing Spike to go straight home. Yet it seemed as though Spike had wanted to be persuaded. As though he wanted badly to return to Buffy, even though he was sure that the outcome would not be good.
Perhaps if they had been able to hop on a flight right outside of the cave, it might have been easier. As it was, Spike had needed two days to rest up before he was healed enough to travel farther. They had flown back to Morocco and had gotten a flight to England , but there was a layover in Amsterdam .
By the time they arrived in Holland , Spike had been running a high fever and had been nearly delirious. Wesley had made the decision to stay for a few days to allow the ex-vampire time to recover. He would have called Nika and Buffy at that point, but Spike was coherent enough to demand that he not, and just sick enough to believe that any calls to Buffy would result in her telling him not to return.
Spike had exacted a promise not to make contact until they were back in L.A. , and Wesley had been worried enough about his mental state that he'd agreed.
Wesley didn't explain any of it. There would be time enough later, and this wasn't a conversation he wanted to have on the phone. "I'll be home shortly."
"Why don't you pick Meg up and bring her over," Nika suggested. "It sounds as though Buffy and Spike are going to need some time to themselves ."
Wesley hesitated. "Are you certain?"
"Of course," Nika replied stoutly. "Just because she's here doesn't mean we won't have time to get reacquianted after the children go to bed."
That had been that, and Wesley was thankful that Nika was as sympathetic as she was.
When Wesley and Meg entered the house together, there was chaos. The twins immediately ran to hug him, both speaking a mile a minute. Wesley could hear Nika's voice in the kitchen, her tone one of frightened concern, Enid replying in a calming manner.
"Enough," Wesley said, bending to hug both boys. "I can't understand a word you say when you speak so quickly and all at once."
The twins gave him identical sheepish grins. "Sorry, Dad," they said in unison.
He shook his head. "Now, slowly, and one at a time."
"Sam got hurt!" Davey blurted out before Will could speak.
Wesley frowned. "Who is Sam?"
"Hannah's boyfriend," Will explained . "He got beat up really bad and Mum's worried that the boys might be after Hannah again."
Wesley sighed. There was never a dull moment. "Alright, then. I'll go speak with them. Do you have homework?"
"Mine is done," Will said quickly.
Davey frowned and stared down at the ground. "Yeah."
Wesley ruffled his son's dark hair. "Do your best, Davey, and I'll see what I can do about helping you after dinner."
Davey nodded, clearly not pleased that school had even been brought up so soon after his father's return. Wesley knew he needed to make a point of spending time with both boys in the next few days. "Meg, do you have homework?" he asked.
She nodded, subdued. "Yeah. I can help Davey too, Uncle Wesley."
"Thank you, my dear," he said quietly. "Go on with you lot now."
All three children retreated into the twins' bedroom, and Wesley went into the kitchen. Nika met him at once, and they shared a long embrace. "I missed you horribly."
"I missed you too, love," Wesley replied, meeting her lips with his own. Their kiss held the promise of much more to come, but for the moment they were bound by other duties. Wesley turned to see Hannah and a young man watching them with mixed interest and embarrassment. "How have you been, Hannah?"
She hugged him, unashamed of her affection. "Good."
"There was some trouble at school today," Enid correcting her, smiling at Wesley in greeting. By unspoken agreement nothing was said of Spike, not with a stranger present.
Wesley raised an eyebrow. "So the twins told me. What happened?"
"It was my fault, sir," Sam said quickly.
Hannah frowned at him. "No, it wasn't, Sam. They were being idiots."
Wesley sighed. "Why don't you begin at the beginning, starting with introductions. "
Hannah and Sam quickly explained what had happened, correcting one another any time someone got off track with the story. "It's really not Sam's fault, Wesley," Hannah said earnestly.
"I dare say it isn't," Wesley replied. "Although I'm not sure the school would feel the same way if you had been caught." He frowned, thinking quickly. "I don't want either of you going off by yourselves while you're at school," he finally decided. "If you're with each other or in a group, I doubt they'll try anything."
Hannah looked indignant. "I can take care of myself!"
"I know you can," Wesley replied. "But if you were to get in a fight with these boys, you might do more damage than could be easily explained. I would prefer to avoid that sort of problem."
"We can stick together," Sam said quickly. "I don't mind."
Wesley's lips twitched. "No, I'm certain you don't." He fixed Sam with a look. "I won't have you getting Hannah into trouble, do you understand? If I find out you're leading her astray, I'll put a stop to your seeing each other immediately."
Sam nodded, while Hannah just sighed. She had no doubt that Wesley would do exactly as he promised, and with good reason. It wouldn't do for anyone to get too curious about her ability to beat up the entire football team.
Hannah had heard the stories. Bad things could happen when Slayers were attacked or surprised by mere mortals.
"That being said," Wesley continued. "If they threaten you again, or if you're attacked, you have every right to defend yourselves with whatever means necessary."
Nika nodded. "Good. Now that we've got that settled, I think it's time for dinner. Sam, are you staying?"
Sam hesitated, knowing that Wesley had just gotten home. "I don't want to intrude."
"It's no intrusion, lad," Enid said. "We always have room for one more."
They always had.
~~~~~
Buffy held him until the sun had gone down and the room darkened. He had stopped shaking some time before, but she was so grateful to have Spike back in her arms, Buffy didn't want to let him go.
"Do you want to get cleaned up?" she finally asked softly.
Spike was silent. "I guess."
"Do you want to eat first?"
"I'm really not that hungry."
"How long has it been since you've eaten?" The pause that followed her question told Buffy what she needed to know. "You need to eat, Spike."
"Fine." He didn't sound all that happy about it.
Buffy sighed, running a hand through his hair. He hadn't bothered putting any gel at all in it, and the curls felt soft under her fingers. "I love you."
"Do you?" Spike asked in return, sounding none too sure of the fact. "I'm not—I'm not the man you married."
"You look like the guy I married," Buffy said with a raised eyebrow. "Maybe we ought to double check, though."
At the confused look on his face, she grinned at him. "First we get you cleaned up, then we get you fed."
Spike frowned. "Buffy—"
She took his face in her hands. "I'm sorry."
He blinked. "For what?"
"For not giving you my full support."
"You—you were worried," Spike said. "I understand. Buffy, I—"
When he stopped, Buffy stroked his cheekbones with her thumbs. "What is it, sweetie?"
"I get it now." Spike swallowed hard. "I get why you couldn't be with me. What I can't understand is why you'd be with me now."
Buffy's eyes narrowed in determination. "Actually, Spike, you don't understand anything. I love you, which is why I'm with you now. I think that had something to do with our wedding vows."
He frowned. "Buffy-luv, I can't do this."
"I don't want you to do anything," Buffy replied quietly. "Do you remember when I came back from the dead?" At his nod, she took a deep breath. "You were the only thing that made sense to me. You were the only person who didn't push me to be or do something I couldn't be or do right then. You didn't put any demands on me. You were just there. Let me do that for you now."
Spike's eyes welled up again, and she leaned forward and kissed him gently. "Do you still love me?" she asked.
"More than life."
"Then that's enough."
Buffy took him by the hand and led him up the stairs to their bedroom. Without words, she pulled his shirt off over his head, her lips tracing his jawline, his collarbone, gliding over his chest. She could feel his muscles trembling under her ministrations, and she ran her hands gently over each new injury, each fading wound.
"I love every part of you," she murmured. "Every day that you were gone was too long."
Spike drew in a great shuddering breath, and Buffy could feel the beating of his heart under her hand. "Didn't know why you'd want me, pet," he whispered. "I'd felt like I'd been turned inside out, an' I couldn't see you lovin' me."
"Why wouldn't I love you?" she asked, her hands going to his belt, unbuckling it.
He put his hands on her shoulders, stilling her movements. "I feel so dirty, Buffy, like I'll never get clean. Never thought it would be like this."
Buffy met his eyes, and she could see the pain deep set. "I know."
"How could you?"
"Because I felt so empty after I got back, and I never thought I'd be complete again. You loved me even when I wasn't all there."
"I loved all of you."
"And I love all of you."
He let her finish undressing him then, let her climb in the shower behind him. He stood underneath the pounding spray and let the water wash over him as Buffy's hands caressed his body.
Spike let her make love to him, finally managing to respond. It felt empty somehow, as though she wasn't really making love to him, to this new thing that he'd become. How could she love him?
How could she love him when he hated himself?
Chapter 13: October 2014
Perhaps the most interesting aspect of Giles' new system was the fact that so many more people knew about the Slayer and her support staff. The young man who met them at the airport shook their hands, exhibiting tell-tale signs of hero worship. He introduced himself as Matt and ushered them to a waiting van.
The minivan was littered with toys and fast food wrappers, and he grimaced slightly. "Sorry about the mess in here," Matt apologized. "We had to borrow it from Angurie's sister on short notice."
"Angurie?" Buffy asked, sounding slightly amused.
Matt shrugged. "One of the coven members. Her sister is a soccer mom. I can guarantee you that she has no idea that there's a Slayer and a couple of vampires riding along."
"What about a witch?" Willow asked, her lips twitching upwards.
"She knows about that," Matt admitted. "She thinks we're crazy, but sometimes that's okay. It means that they don't take anything you do seriously."
"I can see where that would be a good thing," Angel remarked, looking uncomfortable in the confines of the vehicle. "So where are we going?"
Matt turned slightly in his seat to look at the vampire who wasn't visible in the rearview mirror. "Wren thought you'd probably want to get on things right away. I'm taking you to her house."
The rest of the ride was made in silence. Spike was uncharacteristically quiet, possibly because Buffy had elected to ride in the front passenger seat, which left him in the very back with Connor. He was contemplating what was to come, and the possibility of losing another Slayer. He rarely allowed his thoughts to run down that road these days, but the fear was there—made more real by every passing year when Buffy aged and he did not.
This wasn't a new line of thought.
Wren's home was a cheerful, suburban two-story, and Spike chuckled to himself, remembering the days when he scoffed at such things. These days, most of Giles' operatives flew under the radar, residing in just this kind of neighborhood. They were mostly ordinary people—like Matt—who had been called upon for extraordinary jobs.
It had been Giles' revolutionary idea that regular people could be heroes. The Scoobies had taught him that.
The exterior gave no indication to the furor within, however. As soon as they walked through the front door, they were greeted by several members of the coven, all of whom appeared to be exhausted. "I'm so glad you could make it," Wren said sincerely. "It's been all we could do to keep the Hellmouth closed."
Spike and Angel exchanged looks. They had known it was going to be bad from the beginning. They were starting to think it might actually be worse. "Why don't you tell us what happened?" Angel suggested. "Our information is pretty sketchy."
Wren nodded, ushering them into the kitchen. She was a young woman, and hardly looked old enough to be placed in charge of a coven, much less a Hellmouth. Willow had vouched for her, however, saying simply, "She reminds me of Tara ."
The coven leader quickly made a pot of tea, and then asked the vampires if they wanted to eat. "We're fine," Spike assured her. "Just want to get to the bottom of this."
"I'm sure you do," she replied, finally sitting down. The table was small, but Spike and Angel had both chosen to remain standing on the periphery of things while the others took seats at the table.
"What happened to Faith?" Buffy demanded after the pause had dragged on too long for her taste. "Giles couldn't even tell us that much."
Wren sighed. "That's because we don't know. We noticed a disturbance a couple of weeks ago, but it was small. We were trying to find out what was causing it without alerting anyone about our presence. We like to keep things as low key as possible." She shook her head. "When we realized how big it might be, we let Faith know, thinking she'd look into it and then get backup if she needed it. The next thing we knew, Giles was calling us saying that a new Slayer had been Chosen."
"Then you still don't know what happened to her?" Buffy asked. "How are we supposed to do our job?"
"We learned enough to make Faith try and take her out when she found her," Matt interjected. He had followed them into the kitchen and was leaning against the counter next to Spike. "The longer we let things go, the better chance this vampire had of tapping into the Hellmouth."
Wren shot her young colleague a look. "We knew a little. Enough to make us worry that there was a real possibility that this vampire might succeed when others haven't. She's old, she's powerful, and she isn't afraid of anything."
"You got a name on her?" Spike asked.
"She's calling herself the Slayer of Slayers now," Matt said. "But before, she was known as La Muerta."
Angel's jaw tensed. "I see."
"You know her?" Connor asked quietly, seeing his dad's reaction.
The vampire shrugged. "I've heard of her. Rumors say she's a bitch."
"Then we take her out," Buffy said coldly. Turning to Wren, she asked, "And what are you guys doing? Faith is dead, and you're sitting around drinking tea?"
"Buffy—" Spike's tone held a warning, but Wren was more than capable of taking care of herself.
The witch met the Slayer's eyes, and there was cold power there that had Buffy quickly looking away. "We have not been 'sitting around drinking tea,'" she said with precise diction. Gone was the amiable young woman who had met them; in her place was a powerful witch. "We have been thwarting every attempt this vampire has been making to open the Hellmouth. Three of my people are completely drained, and unless you stop her soon, the rest of us won't be in much better shape."
"Tonight," Willow said quietly. When the others looked over at her in surprise, she grimaced. "I know Giles was counting on me to be all in favor of extensive planning, but Wren's right. We don't have the time."
"What is it, Willow ?" Buffy asked, recognizing the expression on her old friend's face.
She shook her head, joking weakly, "There's a disturbance in the Force, Luke." When only Spike and Connor chuckled appreciatively, she got serious. "Nothing I can put my finger on, Buffy, but I can feel it. There's a tension there, and we're not winning."
"Right," Buffy said determinedly. "Let's figure out where this arrogant bitch is and put a stake in her."
Angel and Spike exchanged looks. They had both seen Buffy in all her moods, and they knew that anger had a tendency to make her careless. If there was only one thing they could agree upon, it was keeping the Slayer safe.
No matter what.
~~~~~
"Why is it always a warehouse?" Buffy asked her husband irritably. "Why not—I don't know, a nice mansion somewhere?"
"You forgetting Angelus and Dracula?" Spike asked with a raised eyebrow. "An' it's a warehouse because nobody calls the cops when they hear the screams." At Buffy's glare, he felt compelled to point out, "You did ask."
She let out a breath. "It was a rhetorical question." There was a pause. "How do you think the others are doing?"
Spike shrugged. "'m sure they're fine. Between Angel and Connor, they'll bring Willow in right under her. We'll attack her on two fronts, an' she'll be dust before she knows what hit her."
"Do you really think it's going to be that easy?"
"No, but a bloke can hope, can't he?"
There was a long pause. "Are you angry with me?"
"Angry?" Spike glanced over at her. "Now why would I be angry?"
"Because I came even though—" Buffy stopped. "You understand, don't you?"
"'course I understand," Spike said, sounding annoyed. "I know you, Buffy. I never thought you'd sit this one out, not when it's about Faith."
She glared at him. "Then why did you even ask, Spike?"
"Maybe because I was hopin' you'd see sense," he shot back, and then immediately sighed. "Look, luv, let's not do this now. We've got enough in front of us to fight without fightin' each other."
"Fine." The tightness in her voice told Spike that she still wasn't happy with him, but he really couldn't say that he cared. He knew that Buffy had a tendency to lash out at those around her when she was angry or upset. Once she worked out some of her aggression on their target, they'd be right as rain again.
Of course, that didn't make it any more fair to him while she kept making him the target.
Matt crept up behind them, moving quietly, although not so silently that Spike didn't hear him approaching. "They're in," he whispered. "Angel said he wouldn't have any trouble in the sewers."
Spike nodded. "Good."
"You're going to stay here." Buffy was using her best general's voice, but Matt wasn't used to her taking command yet.
"What? No!" he hissed back. "Wren told me to stick close to you guys."
Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Wren isn't in charge. I am. And I don't want you getting hurt."
Spike knew he was going to regret this. "He's comin' in, Slayer."
"Spike—"
"He stays out here by himself, there's no one to watch his back. He comes in with us, he'll probably be safer." The vampire gave the young man a hard look. "You stay close and keep down, hear me?"
The expression on Buffy's face told Spike that Angel was probably right. He would be spending the next month on the couch, but right now he didn't care. She was being a bitch, and the kid would be in more danger staying behind. "Fine. You're responsible for him, Spike."
That was it. Normally they didn't go into a fight without exchanging some kind of pleasantries, even if it was only a quickly uttered, "Be careful." The Slayer was up and headed towards the warehouse entrance in a flash, without saying anything else.
Matt glanced towards Spike in alarm when the vampire let out a low growl. "You know how to use that crossbow you're hangin' onto?" Spike asked. When Matt nodded, he said, "Then you find a secure spot an' start dustin' 'em quick as you can, hear me?"
The boy nodded, his eyes revealing a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Spike was reminded of Xander. Harris had had the same grit that Matt was displaying—although grit could easily translate into stupidity.
Spike was on his feet, moving swiftly and silently after his wife. He noted that Matt was nearly as quiet, and was grateful that he seemed to know what he was doing. Spike understood what Wren had been doing by sending one of her own with them.
Even though it had been decided that Willow would disrupt La Muerta's attempts at opening the Hellmouth, she might need a little extra muscle. Matt had power, but he was inexperienced, which meant he wasn't much use joining the rest of the coven in fending off La Muerta's attacks from a distance. In accompanying them, Matt could act as a spare battery, just in case Willow ran low on juice.
Spike was cursing his Slayer's impatience roundly when they entered. He knew why Giles had wanted them to plan this out carefully. Going in with guns blazing was what had gotten Faith killed. Although if Willow was right, they didn't have the time to develop a more complicated plan.
He was grateful that Matt was willing to follow his lead. The boy got himself into a safe corner and started firing his crossbow, hitting two out of every three. Angel and Connor were guarding Willow , who was chanting steadily.
They had briefly discussed attempting a sunlight spell inside the warehouse, but neither Angel nor Spike were willing to let the three humans go in without their protection. Besides, while the sunlight spell was rather spectacular, it was tricky. Even Willow 's skill couldn't guarantee that it would come off right every time.
Buffy was in the middle of the action, as usual, trading blows with a female vampire who had six inches and about fifty pounds on her. Spike was on his way to lend a hand when he was met by three vamps, all female, looking ready for a fight. "It's a tribe of bloody Amazons," he growled, bringing out the demon with glee.
It wasn't often that he got this opportunity anymore, but he still loved it.
They surrounded him in a loose circle. "If it isn't William the Bloody," one of the vamps jeered. "Looks like the rumors were right. He is Slayer-whipped."
"Won't keep me from dustin' you ugly ladies," he retorted, slipping easily into the banter of fighting. Oh, how he had missed this. It had been months since he'd had a good fight.
One of the vamps was obviously young and inexperienced. At Spike's insult, she launched herself at him furiously, and he blocked her blows easily, ducking a high kick to sweep her legs out from under her. She went down hard, and he put his stake through her heart before she could rise.
The other two howled in rage, and one jumped on his back, clawing at his eyes. He was distracted enough that he couldn't fend off the third's knee to the groin, and he doubled over in agony. The vampire behind him took advantage of the situation. She seized him by the neck and arm, trapping him in a three-quarters nelson, and leaving him wide open to attacks from the front. "Bloody hell," Spike hissed, knowing that if he didn't get moving they would take advantage of his incapacitation.
Spike heard a shout from behind him, and the vamp who had kicked him disintegrated before his eyes. The vampire pinning him loosened her grip, and Spike grabbed her arm, twisting himself free. He saw Matt holding a crossbow, looking triumphant. The vampiress was disoriented, looking in shock at the dust of her fallen companion, and Spike slipped his stake into her heart before she could recover.
"Good work!" he called, watching as Matt flushed in pleasure and then retreated to his corner again, still firing off the occasional bolt.
He turned to Buffy, who was getting beaten back by La Muerta—which was a damn stupid name, if you asked him. Pretentious, and just asking to be challenged. Too bad it looked like the vampire could live up to her name admirably.
Willow was facing off against the only male in the entourage. He was obviously the sorcerer La Muerta had employed to open up the Hellmouth, but Spike could see that Willow was enjoying the contest. That meant she wasn't feeling threatened, and as long as Angel and Connor kept the Raksh demons off her back she would be fine.
It was Buffy he was concerned about, and Spike focused on getting across the warehouse floor to assist her. She'd be pissed at him for taking her kill, but if he could just catch the vampiress from behind, unawares—
Spike was so intent on reaching Buffy in time that he didn't see the vampire behind him. He wasn't even aware of the danger until he heard a shout—it sounded like it came from Angel. By then, the wooden plank was through his chest, tearing through bone and muscle, dropping him instantly.
And then he wasn't aware of anything else.
~~~~~
The ringing of a phone pulled Xander out of a sound sleep, and he felt a shudder of fear go through him. It had been a long time since he had been part of the action, not since before Buffy had left Sunnydale for good.
There were days when he missed it—missed the adrenaline rush and the excitement. When he missed knowing that he was a big part—or maybe a medium-sized part—of why the world kept turning.
More often, however, he just liked waking up next to his wife, going to work, and coming home. Xander liked having what passed for a normal life, and he liked being the one that his friends counted on for that balance. He liked to think of himself as their anchor to the normal world.
Nights like this, however, when the phone rang late, and Xander knew the news wouldn't be good, he couldn't help but wish he was there again, in the thick of things. At least then he wouldn't have to answer the phone in a cold sweat.
"This is Xander."
"Xander—" He heard Willow 's voice falter on the other line, and he felt guilt for the relief that flooded him. At least Willow was okay.
"What happened?"
"It's Spike," Willow replied, her voice steadier. "We went in—took care of the bad guy, but—he's hurt really bad."
Xander swallowed hard. For all their past animosity, Xander had actually come to like the vampire. More importantly, if something happened to him, Buffy and Meg would be devastated. "How bad?"
"Big wooden plank through the chest," Willow said in a rush. "It was rough wood, so we're working on making sure there aren't any splinters left in. If it had been even a little more to the left..."
She left it hanging, but Xander knew what she was saying. Spike very nearly hadn't made it. "The others?"
"Good," Willow hastened to assure him. "Well, actually, Angel—he, uh, got slimed."
Xander's lips curled in a smile, in spite of the bad news about Spike. He could hear a spark of humor in Willow 's tone, and he thought there might be a story there. "Slimed, huh?"
"Big time," she giggled, suddenly sounding like the girl he'd known in high school. "One of the demons exploded on him, and I guess it doesn't come out of anything. Like hair."
Xander chuckled. "How much whining did he do?"
"A lot, until Buffy told him to shut up because it could be worse." Willow sounded grim again. "I was calling to let you know that it's going to be a few days before we can leave. We don't want to move Spike in case—"
Xander didn't let her finish. "Does Buffy want me to say anything to Meg?"
"Not now," Willow replied. "It looks like he's going to pull through, so there's no reason to make her worry."
"I won't say a thing," Xander assured her. "You guys take as long as you need."
Willow heaved a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Xander. I'll give Wes a call and let him know too."
"Not that I'm telling you how to do your job, but you guys went in pretty fast," Xander commented.
He could hear Willow 's sigh. "We weren't sure we had a choice. Before you say it, I know we got lucky. If the vampire Buffy was fighting hadn't been distracted, it could have been really bad."
Xander knew what "really bad" meant. He'd been there for it in the past. "Tell Buffy to hang in there, okay?"
"Will do," the witch responded. "We'll see you when we get back."
Xander hung up the phone, rubbing tired hands over his face. There was no way he was going to be able to get back to sleep now, even though he had a trip to Disneyland with a nine-year-old planned for the next day.
He just hoped that Willow was right and that Spike pulled through. It seemed strange to even think it, but the world would be a worse place if Spike wasn't in it.
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