Author's Note: "Buffy, The Vampire Slayer" and all of it's related characters are property of 20th Century Fox, born from the imagination of Joss Whedon. I am merely borrowing them and shall, for the most part, return them to the state in which I found them.
Buffy, The Vampire Slayer
"Slayer's End"
"I can't believe that…" said Buffy, blocking the attack of a demon, "I've been doing this…" another block, and a kick to the midriff of the demon, "for ten years!"
The demon fell backwards over a tombstone, hitting the ground hard enough that he was severely winded, and Buffy took the opportunity to retrieve the axe that the demon had batted from her hands. A deft swing of the axe ended the demon's existence, the blade firmly planted in its skull.
"It is an impressive record," confirmed Giles, stepping up next to Buffy and brushing the dirt off of himself from his knock to the ground at the hands of the demon. "The Council finds it most unprecedented."
"Thank you very much," smiled Buffy. She didn't care much for the Council, but since Giles had reconciled with them, things had gotten a little better. Their support was, if nothing else, mostly appreciated. "Now, tell me that this night has been anything other than weird."
"Well, yes, it has been a little unusual."
"Giles! One night! Five demons!" she said, stressing each point. "I think that goes in the something's up file."
"Oh, I concur," he said, not looking her in the eye.
"What is it?" she asked, knowing the signs of Giles evasiveness. "There is something big coming up, isn't there?"
"Well, big is really more of an opinion," he stuttered. "Actually, I think that big is more a matter of subjectivity, and that it's use…"
"Giles," she said, steeling herself before him and looking him straight in the face. "I thought we had passed this point a long time ago. You're suppose to be honest and up front with me, and I, in turn, am more prone to follow your direction."
"Well, well, well, you see…"
"Quite the way with words, hasn't he?" came a voice that neither Buffy nor Giles had heard for over two years. "Why don't you level with her, Watcher?"
"Spike?" asked Buffy and Giles in unison.
"The one and only," replied the vampire, stepping from the shadows next to a mausoleum.
"Okay," said Buffy, turning back to face Giles. "What end of the world prophecy is just days from being fulfilled now?"
"Um, well, you see, it's…" mumbled Giles, still obviously uncomfortable with the subject, which Buffy found infuriating.
"It's not the end of the world that he's worried about, Slayer," said Spike, walking towards the pair with one of his smart ass smirks planted on his face.
Buffy turned back to stare down Spike, struggling to keep herself from latching onto his throat and beating the answer out of him. He had left Sunnydale, tired of the constant battles with Buffy after finally having had that bloody chip removed, and she had to remind herself that he was back to his normal combative self. She had never really tried to kill him, but she had come close, and he had sensed that.
"Spill it, Spike," she demanded, putting her hands on her hips and trying her best to look threatening. "What's going on?"
Spike smiled even broader and leaned in close to her, saying "It's the other prophecy that he's worried about. The one that tells about the end of the greatest Slayer to ever be."
Buffy blinked, more than a little surprised at his announcement, and turned to once again face Giles. She could see in his face that it was true, and dozens of dark thoughts began racing through her mind.
"I've never seen Buffy so…worked up," commented Xander, listening at the door to the training room in the rear of the Magic Shop.
From the other side of the door, the entire group could hear rapid fire thuds and bangs echoing out as Buffy worked herself up into a frenzy on the training equipment. She was going at it harder than any of them could ever recall having witnessed, or heard, and they were beginning to worry about it. The last thing that they wanted to see happen was Buffy be too tired to stand against what ever force was going to come after her.
"Don't you mean heard?" asked Anya.
"What?"
Anya sighed and rolled her eyes upwards. "You can't see her, Xander. You should be saying that you've never heard her this worked up."
"This is one of the effects of night school, isn't it?" he teased, only slightly annoyed at her pointing out his tiny mistake.
"Just because you made foreman doesn't mean you can knock having an education."
"No, it means I can knock buildings down and put them back up," he smirked.
Further banter was cast aside as Giles emerged from his office, a very serious and perplexed expression on his face. He was walking towards them almost as if in a trance, his attention definitely not focused on the here and now.
"Giles, what's wrong?" asked Willow, more than a little weirded out.
"That… That was the Council," he said, still staring distantly beyond them. "A new… A new Slayer has emerged."
"What?" they all asked in unison.
"That can't be," said Xander, stalking over from where he had been listening to Buffy work out. "Buffy's okay, she's….oh, no."
"Faith," whispered Giles.
"Would someone mind telling me what's going on?" asked Anya, noticing the sad looks on everyone's face.
"About ten years ago, Buffy was killed by the Master," said Giles, drawing a surprised look from the woman. "Albeit a short death, she was resuscitated. Her death, however temporary, brought forth the next in line to be Slayer."
"Kendra," remembered Willow, softly.
"Yes. And when Kendra was killed, Faith became the newest Slayer," finished Giles.
"Did they say what happened?" asked Xander. "Faith was nearly Buffy's match, I can't believe something finally got her."
"Believe it," came a voice from the front door.
The group turned, some rather startled, to see the bloodied, bruised, and beaten form of Wesley standing there, supporting a very weak looking Angel. Gasps rose from the group as they saw Angel's face, black and blue, and blood smeared through his hair on the left side of his head.
"Faith is dead, and we're all in very big trouble," said Wesley.
"He looks so innocent," said Buffy, gently stroking Angel's hair. She had helped to get him cleaned up and into bed, where he now slept soundly, and she hadn't left his side since, not even to be with Giles while he cross examined Wesley.
She had never stopped loving him, not once in all these years. She had managed to control her feelings, burying them deep where they would not hurt others, but she had never lost them or gotten over him. She never would, she knew that in her heart, and she was at peace with that. He was the one, true love, and he would forever be the only love that made her totally complete, but she could make herself forget that, if only to have a somewhat normal life.
All the years, all of the heartaches, they all washed away at seeing him here, hurt like she had never known he could be, and she could think of nothing but him. He had to be okay, she wouldn't be able to continue if he wasn't. Just knowing that he was alive, that he was going on, that was all she needed.
The door creaked slightly as it opened, and Buffy turned to see Giles slowly enter the bedroom that was rightfully his, and she planted a half hearted smile on her face. She hoped that he had good news, that things were going to work out for all of them.
"How is he?" asked Giles, genuinely concerned.
"He's sleeping," said Buffy, turning back to look down at Angel. "I tried to give him some blood, but he wouldn't take it."
"No, I don't imagine that he would."
"What's that suppose to mean?" asked Buffy.
"Wesley and Angel were the only ones to escape," said Giles, pausing to let the information sink in. He ment that Cordelia and the others had died, and though Buffy hadn't seen any of them for a few years, it hurt as much as if they had been close friends.
"Have you told the others yet?" she asked, her voice shaky.
"Not yet, no," answered Giles, pulling a chair over so he could set on it next to Buffy. "There's something else. Something that you need to know."
"What?"
"Angel's… Angel's human, Buffy."
Buffy stared at him, wide eyed.
"Wesley wouldn't divulge all of the details, just that Angel had done his penance, and was given what he had longed for."
Buffy's heart soared with unbridled joy. Angel, human! It was more than she could have ever hoped for, and everything that she had ever prayed for. They could be together, they could have a life together, they…they would have to survive the prophecy.
Reality sank back in like a smothering blanket, and Buffy cursed under her breath. They could finally be together, and things written ages ago were telling them that it wouldn't be, that she wouldn't living much longer.
"As soon as word got out that Angel was no longer a vampire, a few enemies decided to even things between them and Angel."
"What happens next?" asked Buffy.
"I've finally finished translating the full text of the prophecy, with Spike's help no less, and Angel's arrival fits into it."
"This prophecy doesn't have to come true, Giles," she said, a determination to her voice that Rupert hadn't heard in a long time. "We've beaten them before."
"Yes, but never one that concerned you," he said, regretting it instantly.
"That's about to change," Buffy promised.
"Yes, why not?" agreed Giles.
Buffy cast one last look at her sleeping Angel, leaned in to kiss him softly on the cheek, then rose and turned to face her Watcher. The look in her eyes was full of fire and drive, and Giles was beginning to believe that maybe they could alter destiny.
"Let's see this prophecy," she said, heading for the door. "I want to know what it is that I'm going to be killing."
Demons will attack with abandon
A loving enemy will return from a distance
Friends from afar will have perished fighting the cause
The tainted one shall pass fighting for the light
The repentant one will be welcomed back into the light
The Slayer's heart will be healed
The sunset following will see the arrival of Ishakantar, demon lord and seeker of the greatest Slayer ever
A guardian will pass to the other side during the ensuing battle, despite its briefness
Sunrise will see the great Slayer to be no more, her responsibilities at an end
"Okay, a lot of this makes sense," said Willow, reading over the written translation that Giles had brought before the group. "Demons have been attacking more frequently; Faith was probably the tainted one; Angel's back and he's human."
"And that mean's that my heart's healed," said Buffy, unashamed that she still loved Angel after all of these years.
Xander almost opened his mouth, the old resentments threatening to surface, but thought better of it. Who was he to condemn her for loving a vampire? He had married an ex-demoness after all.
"What's that part about a loving enemy?" asked Anya.
All eyes turned to Spike, who was leaning against the door frame of the training room, and he glared back at them with contempt.
"What?" he snarled. "The Watcher translated that part, he probably got the bloody thing wrong."
"Down, Spikey," joked Buffy. She knew the feelings that Spike had had for her, and had almost given in to them several times.
"Spikey?" asked Xander, raising one eyebrow.
"That's not bloody funny, Slayer. I came here to lend a hand to you bunch, God only knows why, and all you can do is insult me."
"Who's this Ishakantar?" asked Willow, trying to change the subject quickly.
"She's a Demon Lord," announced Giles, stepping over to the table and laying a large book on top of those already piled there. "A very powerful, and very evil one."
"Is there any other kind of Demon Lord?" asked Xander.
"Yes, there is, as a matter of fact," answered Giles, innocently.
"So why does this Ishakantar want me?" asked Buffy. "What did I do to piss the bitch off?"
"Nothing, specifically," related Giles, pointing to an entry from the ancient tome he had laid on the table. "Ishakantar instigated a rebellion in hell…"
"Go figure," said Anya, drawing looks from the group. "What? It's not a nice place to visit, let alone stay there a while."
"As I was saying," continued Giles, shaking off Anya's statement. "She was, of course, unsuccessful, and was banished to a limbo that was the equivalent of hell's hell."
"That had to be some place special," commented Xander.
"It was decided that in order to redeem herself, Ishakantar would have to bring to hell, the head of the greatest Slayer ever."
"I'm the greatest Slayer ever?" asked Buffy, slightly embarrassed.
"Haven't I always told you that," said Spike, almost absently. Then, upon seeing the looks from the others, added "Bloody more trouble than any of the others. At least they knew how to die."
"How do we kill her?" asked Buffy.
"You can't," said Angel, standing in the doorway that led upstairs. "She's a Demon Lord, which means you can only banish her."
"Angel?" questioned Spike, sniffing at the air. "Wait a minute, there's something different about you."
"Leave him alone, Spike," threatened Buffy, rising from her chair.
"Yeah," smiled Spike, showing fangs. "You're a bloody mortal again!"
"Back off, William," said Angel, holding up a cross that he had been keeping behind his back. "I've got no hesitations about killing you."
"The Slayer, maybe, but not you," said Spike, still smiling. "Not to worry, though. You were getting to be quite the pain in the arse as Angelus."
"Glad you missed me," quipped Angel.
"Boys, that's enough," instructed Buffy, stepping up to Angel. "Shouldn't you still be in bed?"
"We don't have much time," he said, smiling despite the fact that it sent a wave of pain through the bruised side of his face.
"You're in no shape to be of much help," said Buffy, guiding him back up the stairs. "You need your rest."
"Buffy, I know what's going on."
"So do I. I'm putting you back to bed."
"You have to stop Wesley," he said, making her stop. "He thinks he can avert all of this by finding where Ishakantar will arrive."
"What? Tell me he hasn't slipped out the back."
"We brought two vials with us," said Angel, setting down on the steps to rest, drawing in a deep breath. "He took one of them with him."
"That's not what I wanted to hear."
"Ishakantar will come to our world through a portal that will open in a place of the dead."
"Apparently you've forgotten how many cemeteries that Sunnydale has."
"But only one that has an enclosed area big enough for Ishakantar to arrive."
"How big is this Ishakantar?"
"Remember when the Mayor transformed into Olvikan?"
"Oh."
"She needs a really big place."
"Rolling Meadows," said Buffy, knowing exactly the place Angel was referring to. "The mausoleum from hell."
Wesley looked about the stretching fields of the cemetery, satisfied that this close to sunset no one was about, and turned his attention to the marble door that led into the Abbyfield Mausoleum. Back in the late seventies, Albert Abbyfield had had the mausoleum built into one of the largest hills of Sunnydale, then had arranged for everyone of his ancestors to be moved there. The modest looking entrance way, barely jutting out from the steep side of the hill, hid the massive chamber within, filled with over two hundred tombs that represented the entire family line of the Abbyfields.
Upon it's completion, Albert himself had passed away, joining his family as he had darkly dreamed, and passing what was left of his fortune onto his children. It wasn't much, the mausoleum having had taken most of his wealth to be completed, but they were constantly assured that at least they had their funeral services planned out already.
Three swings with the sledge hammer that he had brought with him, and Wesley had managed to begin cracking the door. Three more swings, delivered with strained grunts, and the door was a spider's web of cracks, the owlish man certain that he would succeed in breaking the door down with maybe only a dozen more strikes.
"What in the hell are you doing?" demanded an aged voice, sending a wave of panic through Wesley.
Spinning around, nearly dropping the sledge hammer on his foot, Wesley found himself facing an old man in coveralls. The old man was standing next to a wheel barrow laden with gardening tools, and had his hands on his hips as he awaited an answer.
"I am Wesley Wyndham-Pryce, and I am here on a mission of grave importance," he announced, unaware of his pun.
"Well, I'm Thaddeus Brockhurst, and I'm the one that has to clean up messes like the one you're making."
"Yes, well, I'm sorry about that, but I have to get in there."
"Then why don't you just turn the latch?" asked Thaddeus.
"What?"
"It ain't locked, ya idiot. Old man Abbyfield left specific instructions that it was never to be locked. Had some kind of fool idea about wanting his ghost to be able to come and go."
"Oh."
"I've been caretaker here for nearly fifty years," said Thaddeus, pulling a flask from his back pocket. "I've seen a lot of strange things. Goblins. Ghouls. Vampires. But I ain't never seen a ghost."
"You know of such things?" asked Wesley, slightly admonished.
"Hell yeah. Anybody that lives in Sunnydale, and works in a place like this, either learns fast or turns up missing."
"Then you wouldn't be put off if I told you that a Demon Lord is about to arrive in our world through a portal that is going to materialize inside of this mausoleum."
"Wouldn't be the first time," said Thaddeus, taking a swig from his flask. "Back in 1965, there was this…"
"Mister Brockhurst, I really don't have…"
"Call me Tad."
"Er, okay, Tad then. Tad, I really don't have time for this. Ishakantar will be here any moment."
"Then you better quit talking to me," said the old man, taking one last swig before recapping his flask. "I'll be heading for home. Don't like messing with demons."
Thaddeus grabbed the handles of his wheel barrow and started marching away from the mausoleum, leaving a bewildered Wesley behind shaking his head. The old man was whistling as he left, the faint tune of Whistle While You Work now stuck in Wesley's mind.
Grumbling, Wesley turned back to the marble door and tried the latch. It opened quite easily, much to the Watcher's dismay, and he ventured into the darkness beyond, fumbling for the flashlight that he knew he had placed in one of his pockets.
Xander was glad that his position as foreman had entitled him to the use of company vehicles, the full sized van easily accommodating the entire gang as they went in pursuit of Wesley. They had brought as many weapons with them as they could, Angel constantly telling them that it was pointless, that they would only annoy Ishakantar. The ex-vampire had brought only the remaining vial that Wesley had left behind, supposedly a potion that would banish the Demon Lord back to limbo.
Willow and Tara were busy studying the potion, working their own magiks on it in an attempt to understand it, and possibly duplicate it. The single vial was their only hope, and they wanted to be prepared in the event that they needed a back up. They weren't overly hopeful that Wesley would succeed, but they also did not know how he had grown to be quite the fighter in the last eight years, even being the one that had saved Angel and gotten him out of LA in time to help Buffy.
"I still can't believe sissy boy would go off by himself," quipped Xander, pulling into the entrance of Rolling Meadows.
"I think you'll find Wesley quite different than how you remember him," said Angel in defense of his friend. "He's saved the day a few times himself."
"Does he still scream like a woman?" asked Buffy, jokingly.
"Only during the really scary stuff," replied Angel, smiling.
The van's headlights sparkled over Angel's car, borrowed by Wesley, and Xander hit the brakes. The gang spilled out of the van, carrying as much as they could, and charged through the open doorway of the mausoleum, Giles and Xander leading the way since they carried the flashlights.
Twisting and turning, the entrance tunnel stretched for what seemed an endless distance before coming to a stop at a second set of doors. Xander pulled the doors open, bright light spilling out from the massive mausoleum before them, dozens of halogen lamps spread across the ceiling.
Nearly five stories tall and a fifty yards deep, the mausoleum was a vast expanse of white and grey marble, hundreds of burial chambers lining each side. Wesley could be seen pacing about the center of the chamber, staring down at the floor intently. There was a shimmering around the spot he was staring at, much like heat rising off the horizon during a summer day.
Wesley briefly looked up as the group approached him, keeping his attention mostly on the floor. As the group drew near, they could see what had captured his interest; a swirling black pool of incandescent energy that was mixed with streaks of purple and spun like a vortex.
"It's happening," said Wesley, stating the obvious.
Pulling the borrowed vial from his pocket and uncapping it, Wesley began walking around the edge of the vortex, pouring the mixture of the vial onto the edges of the circular portal. He recited a ritual passage as he did this, Willow listening intently as she silently translated what he was saying, an awareness coming to her. She recognized it as a spell of binding, and she suddenly understood the magik behind the potion.
With a roar of thunder, there was a sudden, purple flash of energy, and the vortex vanished, collapsing in on it self. The group was knocked to the floor from the shock wave, none the worse for the wear, and they looked about at each other, wondering if it had really worked; if they had defeated the Demon Lord that easily.
"I think we stopped her," said Wesley, a little unsure himself.
The group got back to their feet, none of them still certain that Wesley had accomplished what they all hoped that he had.
"Did he do it?" asked Buffy, looking to Angel for an answer.
"I don't know."
A slight rumble vibrated through the mausoleum, and fear took a firm hold on everyone as they realized that it wasn't over yet. The next tremor was more violent, a few of the overhead lights blowing out as dust and dirt fell from above, and the sounds of grinding rock could be heard building. Cracks began appearing all around them, in the floors, walls, and ceiling, and there were no doubts left that it wasn't over.
"You bloody idiot," shouted Spike from the relative safety of the entrance way. "You didn't close the portal, you just bumped it elsewhere."
"There!" shouted Xander, pointing towards the north wall.
Covers to the individual tombs began crashing to the floor as some unseen force built behind them, pushing the coffins and remains from their place of rest. Wood, marble, and bone rained down from the wall, followed by dirt and stone as the portal pushed the materials out of it's way to form. The stench from the unearthed bodies mixed with the smell of fresh dirt as the wall crumbled away, revealing the new location of the portal that would bring forth Ishakantar.
Wesley threw his vial at the spinning portal, the little amount of elixir left within it not enough to have any affect what so ever. The portal blossomed into fullness, displacing the remaining sections of wall with a thunderous explosion of rock, dirt, and bodies.
The gang was tossed about as if trapped in an earthquake, Wesley's anguished scream barely heard above the cacophony of destruction as a large chunk of marble landed on him.
From the portal emerged a bony, black foot, easily the size of a man, and trailing a leg that stretched up and back into the swirling mass of the portal. A face came next, close to the top of the gateway, and it was blacker than night, glistening as if it were wet. Two red orbs were its eyes, their color a swimming pool akin to blood, a wide opening between them where a nose, or snout, should be. It's mouth was an open, smiling orifice filled with yellow-brown teeth that were as long as a man's arm, and it screeched a roar that shook the entire chamber beyond the quake of it's arrival.
The lights were a flickering strobe now, those that still worked threatening to join the ones that didn't, and Buffy could see her friends trying to run for the entrance way in flashes of movement the belayed their real positions. She made out the still form of Angel a few feet from her, and ran to him, grabbing him up and continuing on as sections of the ceiling continued to fall all around them.
Buffy slid to a terrified halt as a massive claw slammed into the floor just inches in front of her, even her amazing speed not having allowed her to out run the emergence of the Demon Lord. She gently laid Angel down on the rubble strewn floor, fighting to contain the fear that was threatening to overtake her, and turned to look up into the face of Ishakantar.
"Slaaaaayeeeeeer," hissed Ishakantar.
"Bitch," said Buffy, nodding as if meeting a new friend. Behind her back she held Angel's vial, carefully trying to pull the cork stopper out of it.
"Hey, ugly!" shouted Xander from a few feet to the left of the demon. "Try this on for size!"
Xander opened up on the Demon Lord with a flame thrower, the burning chemical spray dousing the side of it with a roar. Ishakantar did not even glance his way as she swung out, striking him and sending him flying across the chamber.
"Oh, that was priceless," commented Spike, still standing in the safety of the entrance way.
"Do you think that your weapon can compare to the flames of hell?" asked Ishakantar, appearing amused.
Anya was as Xander's side, relieved to see that he was still alive, but still worried since he was unconscious and blood was flowing from a gash on the side of his head. She pulled a pocket knife from Xander's jeans and began cutting up her jacket, desperate to make bandages for his wounds.
A flash of yellow struck the Demon Lord, and this time it did recoil, if ever so slightly, and Buffy turned to see Willow and Tara building magikal attacks to use against Ishakantar.
"Only a few hundred more of those, and you might give her a rash," yelled Spike. "Bloody amateurs," he mumbled.
Seizing the moment of Ishakantar's distraction, Buffy popped the cork from the vial and brought it around in an arc to throw at the creature. She was about half way through her swing when the Demon Lord turned back to her, its eyes narrowing in contempt as it struck the Slayer, sending Buffy and the potion tumbling through the air.
Buffy hit hard, landing half over a large boulder, and she heard something snap as pain lanced through her side. Gasping in agony, she rolled herself off of the rock, grabbing at her side as Giles ran to her. He told her to lay still, his probing telling him that she had a few broken ribs, and his mind raced for a solution to their predicament.
Two massive, thundering strides brought Ishakantar to stand over the fallen Slayer, leering down at her and her Watcher with an evil smile. This was it, the moment that had been prophesied, the end of the brief battle between the Slayer and Ishakantar.
"Get away from her, you bitch!" yelled a new voice.
Time became like a thick liquid, fighting against movement as everyone, Ishakantar included, turned to look at the source of the threat. Standing in the entrance way of the mausoleum, brandishing a rocket launcher tipped with a glass globe, was a young blonde girl that couldn't have been more than seventeen.
"Slayer?" asked Ishakantar, turning its head sideways in confusion.
The girl leveled her weapon and fired, the rocket powered projectile streaming smoke as it streaked at the Demon Lord. The rocket exploded as it struck, the contents of the glass globe splashing out all over the creature and igniting instantly.
Ishakantar screamed out in misery, its form twisting and bending in a manner similar to the vortex that had brought it into our world. It's roar climaxing into a gargled cry, the Demon Lord collapsed in on it self, vanishing back into the limbo that it had so recently been freed from.
As silence finally reigned through the wrecked mausoleum, the stench of burning hide thick in the air, the survivors turned their attention to the blonde teenager. A second new comer emerged from the darkness, stepping up from behind the girl, and his clothing made it obvious that he was also a Watcher.
"Hi, Buff," said the girl, dropping the launcher to the ground. "I'm Megan."
Spike drifted back into the darkness of the entrance way, eager to be away from the new Slayer before she noticed him. He had a feeling that things were going to be different with this one, and he wanted to get as far away from her as possible.
EPILOG:
The church doors burst open, Buffy and Angel dancing down the steps happily as their friends cheered and threw rice. They piled into the waiting limousine, laughing and waving as the long black vehicle pulled away from the curb and headed for the airport.
"Are you sure that you're ready for this?" asked Angel, breaking away from the deep kiss that they had been sharing.
"Which part? Spending the rest of my life with you, or letting Megan take over as the one and only Slayer?"
"Both."
"As ready as you were to be Angel Summers."
"It did let me get my citizenship," he said, drawing an exaggerated gasp from Buffy.
"Are you telling me that you only married me so you could stay in the country?" she asked, stressing a look of shock and dismay.
"Will you two cut it out," said the driver, turning to look at them. "You're making me sick."
"Now, Spikey, don't make me call up Megan and recant everything I told her about you."
"No worry there, Slayer. I've been fancying a trip to England, and I can't think of a bloody better time for it."
"That's where we're going for our honeymoon," said Angel, more than slightly annoyed.
"Oh, then you won't mind some company."
Angel started to reach forward to grab a hold of Spike, but the vampire raised the solid black privacy shield as he laughed. Buffy pulled Angel back from the black glass, kissing him passionately as they drove on towards the airport. She wasn't worried about Spike actually traveling with them, they had a ten-thirty flight and he wouldn't be able to leave the tinted interior of the limo until sunset.
When, and if, he did get to England, they would be well on their way to seeing the world together, far away from the horrors that had dominated the last ten years of her life. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was no more, and Buffy Summers was about to start enjoying the life she never thought she would have.
The End?