A/N: On archangels, an endangered species if ever there was one. According to the great Internets there once were seven: Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, Uriel , Simiel, Oriphiel and Zachariah. However, there are alternate spellings/names in certain traditions (Eastern Orthodoxy vs. Jewish tradition and so forth). Anyway, as of s6, we know Gabriel is dead (sniff), Uriel is dead (go Anna), Zachariah is dead (go Dean), Michael is in the pit, and Raphael is a douche. That leaves us with Simiel and Oriphel. At least I don't remember them dying and the Superwiki doesn't mention them, so I'm assuming they are still around.

FYI: In this chapter, I borrowed from various Wiccan websites. I don't have any exact references listed because most seemed to have basically the same stuff and it was uncredited. I also borrowed from the Bible - and yes I got a little cracky with the 'weapons' (couldn't resist).

Thanks to my beta isugirl!

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Chapter 25 – The Time Has Come (part 3)

Buffy wrinkled her nose as she considered the 'weapon' in her hand. So what if David used it to kill Goliath? It was still just a stupid slingshot made out of goat hair and leather. It didn't even come equipped with its own ammo. She had to go outside and gather her own rocks. Rocks! It was so humiliating. It was the worst weapon of all… aside from the 'brick' from the Tower of Babel. Xander had been given that dubious honor. Not only was it made of dried ox dung, it also had the lamest power imaginable. She wasn't sure how making everyone speak a different language was going to accomplish anything. Then there was the stuff Giles had that could turn someone into a 'pillow of salt'. She had no clue what that was even about.

"I don't like my weapon," she pouted, again, although at this point she was pretty sure nobody was listening to her whining anymore. "Please Faith," she cajoled, trying to sound as pitiful as possible.

"Not gonna happen B," Faith replied as she held up the Scythe and deliberately twirled it. She was obviously doing her best to rub it in her face and it was working too. "You said – and I quote – 'I like seriously want one of those super-cool weapons of heaven. Faith, you can like totally take the Scythe.'

Buffy glared at the other Slayer, who'd just mocked her with a really obnoxious and really overdone imitation of a Valley Girl accent.

"I don't sound like that," she snapped as she crossed her arms and tried to think of a good comeback. She had nothing though. Her brain was too fried from all the fighting she and Dean had been doing. Besides, Faith was just trying to distract her so that she'd quit sulking. It was Faith's idea of helping. She finally gave up on a snappy comeback and settled for sticking her tongue out at the other girl.

Faith just winked and shot Buffy a wicked grin. "Love you too," she said.

Buffy sneered at Faith and made her way over to where Dean was busy playing with his weapon, which was, unfortunately, the coolest one of all. He'd gotten the flaming sword that was used to guard the Tree of Life in the Garden of Eden. It had been Michael's, which meant Dean was the only one who could turn it from a useless hilt into an awesome, flaming instrument of death. He was really getting off on it too and Andrew's hero worship hadn't helped. In fact, she'd decided to test out her sling on Andrew if he gushed about the 'heavenly lightsaber' one more time.

"Hey," she greeted hesitantly. She was hoping his fascination with his new toy had taken his mind off their disagreement. She really didn't want to go into battle when they were still at each other's throats.

Dean flicked his wrist and smirked in satisfaction when the flaming blade disappeared once again. "Hey," he repeated back to her, but he didn't look up from the inspection of his weapon.

"Gotta admit, you did get the best toy," she observed. It was an olive branch. She was trying.

Dean snorted and looked up at her briefly. "Well, maybe it's a sign," he said sarcastically.

"Dean."

"What? You're the one that's all into fate and reading the signs these days. I'm just sayin' that maybe your piece-of-shit weapon is a sign that your little knocked-up ass needs to stay home."

"Never mind," she ground out (she couldn't believe him). "I was hoping to have a civil conversation with you, but apparently I'm delusional."

"That's one word for it," he grumbled under his breath.

Buffy turned and stomped away. It was either that or punch him right in his foul mouth. She stood several feet away with her back turned to him, trying desperately to reel in her temper. She really didn't need this right now. She was torn between yelling at him some more and feeling extremely, horribly guilty. She wanted to yell at him because he was a big, smartass jerk who refused to believe that she knew what she was doing. She felt guilty because she knew he was extremely stressed out and worried – hence the jerkiness. It was a vicious cycle.

She stiffened when she sensed him walking up behind her. Apparently he wanted to fight some more. When she felt his hand touch her shoulder, she whirled around, ready for more yelling. But she relaxed a little when she noticed that Dean wasn't looking overly confrontational.

"What?" she asked coolly. "What should my 'little knocked-up ass' be doing now? Maybe I should be barefoot, in the kitchen, making you some pie?" She did her best to look innocent and helpless and fluttered her eyelashes dramatically. "Does that sound about right, honey?"

Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand across his face. He didn't rise to the bait and was obviously struggling to stay calm and find the right words. "Look," he began, "I know you think I'm just a giant ass who won't stay out of the way and let you do your job, but I do have a stake in this. I love you, okay? I probably don't say it often enough and I always jack-up your Hallmark moments, but I do love you… and I can't lose you. And you can't expect me to be okay with… with standing around and watching…" he trailed off, obviously unwilling to finish the sentence.

Buffy groaned. There it was again - the horrible, soul crushing guilt. Did he even realize how good he was at that?

"Dean, you have to have some faith in me," she pleaded. "I'm only doing this so that we have a chance, so that our child has a chance. I'd never deliberately do anything to hurt you – never – and it hurts me to think you don't believe in me. You don't underst-"

"Save it," he interrupted. "We're never gonna agree on this and I can't make you stay out of it. So just give me one thing. That's all I'm asking. One thing."

"What 'one thing'?" she asked suspiciously.

"If we can stop Raphael and Crowley… If I can keep them from ever popping the lock on Purgatory… Promise me you won't do that ritual. Please. I'm begging you here. I know you don't give a shit what I think, but please."

Buffy felt her face growing hot with anger. It was like he hadn't listened to a single word she said.

"That's not fair, Dean," she spat back at him. "I do care what you think. You're the man I love and the father of my child and I sure as hell do care what you think. Why else would I try so hard to get your blessing on this? If you were just some guy to me, I wouldn't even bother. So stop trying to make me feel like the world's biggest bitch!"

Dean raged back at her. "You don't get it! These things never work out like you want them to. If you do this, you die, our baby dies… and I get left to pick up the pieces. I'll never give my blessing to this. You can forget it. So just answer my question. Yes or no?"

Buffy was aware that everyone was staring at the two of them, especially that snarky angel Balthazar. He was getting a big kick out of the free Dean and Buffy show, but she was too furious to care.

"Fine, Dean!" she yelled back. "I promise. If we can stop them from opening Purgatory, I won't do the ritual. I shouldn't have to promise you that, because you should know I'm not doing this for kicks. But since you don't seem to be listening to anything I say - I PROMISE. Happy now?"

"Guess I'll have to be," he said simply and then he walked away from her.

Buffy just let him go. He didn't understand. He refused to believe that anything good could come out of a prophecy. There was no point in continuing to argue.

XXXXXXXXXX

"I knew it!" Xander exclaimed. "Didn't I say they'd be in an old abandoned factory? Evil things love old factories. You heard me, didn't you Will? Buff?"

"Sure Xander," Buffy replied absently. She and Willow were too busy contemplating the shuttered building in front of them to pay much attention to what he was saying. Both of them were suffering from a case of the butterflies. Going to war against angels was a nerve-wracking proposition, even without the prospect of performing heavy-duty magic.

"What are we looking at? How many?" Dean asked from behind her.

"There are nearly a hundred demons," Castiel replied, "and Raphael brought Simiel and Oriphiel with him."

"That's not so bad," Dean remarked, sounding relieved. "I was expecting a buttload more angels."

"Yeah," Xander agreed enthusiastically, he was obviously desperate to latch-on to any sign of hope. "We're good. What's a hundred demons when we've got two dozen Slayers, three angels, three hunters, the world's most badass wicca… Oh, and a piece of Andrew's soul," he added as he looked over at the now healed and fully powered-up Cas. "Andrew wanted to make sure I mentioned that, since he's a little too wiped to join us… and after that horribly disturbing scene of unpleasantness, I think a little shout-out is the least we can do for him."

"I warned him," Dean remarked with a shrug.

"Aren't you forgetting someone, Xander?" Giles asked. He sounded a little put out. Buffy smiled to herself, knowing his reaction had a lot to do with the ongoing contest between him and Bobby.

"Oh, yeah. Me and my magic poo-brick and you and your salt pillow thingie," Xander added with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "We're the ace in the hole."

"It's a pillar not a pillow," Giles clarified.

"Huh," Xander shrugged. "I always thought it was a pillow."

"Me too," Buffy agreed with a nod, "but pillar doesn't make much more sense."

Balthazar mumbled something under his breath about their impending doom. "You Rhodes Scholars obviously don't know who Simiel and Oriphiel are," he observed in an extremely patronizing tone.

"They're archangels, smartass," Bobby groused back at him. "Some of us have read entire books, ya know."

Buffy tilted her head back so that she could look up at Dean. "Is that worse than the regular kind?" she asked.

"Archangels are heaven's most fearsome warriors," Virgil replied in a monotone. It was the most words Buffy had heard him say at one time.

Dean didn't meet her eyes. "What Chuckles said," he remarked coldly.

Great, she thought as she pursed her lips and looked away from Dean. Obviously, they weren't going to call a truce before the big battle.

"So, what's the plan?" Bobby asked. "Do we stand out here all night and stare or do we go in there and get our asses kicked?"

"No," Castiel said with confidence. "We go in there and kick some asses."

Dean shot a surprised look in the angel's direction. "Damn. That little bastard's soul must've had more juice than I gave him credit for. Hope you got plenty of smite to backup that mouth, Cas."

"I do," he confirmed as he began to move forward. "Raphael dies tonight."

"Okay then," Bobby said as he hefted the double barrel shotgun he was holding. "Guess its game time."

Buffy started to move forward with the rest of the group, but Dean caught her by the arm. When she turned around he was silently dangling his car keys in front of her.

"I must be seeing things," she teased, trying to lighten the mood. "I can't believe you're actually offering to let me drive the Impala."

"You can have the damn thing if you'll just leave," he replied seriously.

Buffy smiled at him sadly. "Sorry honey," she said as she shook her head slowly. "You know I can't do that."

"Fine," he growled back at her, "but don't leave my side. I don't want you out of my sight."

Buffy cocked an eyebrow and started to remind Dean who he was talking to, but decided to let it slide in favor of concentrating on the demon army they were about to face. In the end, she settled for smirking and pushing past him. She checked her jeans' pocket to make sure the stupid slingshot was still there and then hefted the angel sword she'd been given. Thankfully there had been enough of those to go around, because she would've been pissed if she'd been stuck with only the lame old slingshot.

XXXXXXXXXX

The group made a grand entrance when Castiel blasted off the factory's double doors, seemingly by the power of thought alone. Buffy was going to go out on a limb and say that was a promising sign.

The three angels easily blazed a path through the waiting demon hordes. They simply touched them or slashed them with a sword and the demon was burned out of its host body, leaving a smoking husk behind. Those that managed to slip by the three were fairly easily dealt with by the Slayers and their borrowed angel swords. Demons really weren't so bad if you had the right weapons.

Buffy gave a sigh of relief after she successfully ran her sword through the one Xander had bashed over the head with his brick. After the blow, it began raging at everyone in French and that was a Sunnydale High flashback she could live without. She sucked at French back then and she certainly didn't understand it any better now, especially since most of the words the demon was using weren't in any of her textbooks.

Two figures stood at the back of the horde, watching the battle with obvious disgust. One was a tall, pale blond woman and the other was a tall, equally pale blond guy. They looked like siblings – very pale, very creepy, semi-evil siblings. The hatred they were shooting Cas' way had her guessing the two were the mysterious archangels, Simiel and Oriphiel. The hard expression on Cas' face only confirmed her suspicions. There was no love lost between those guys.

Without taking his eyes off the two angels, Castiel stood still until Buffy and Dean caught up with him.

"Raphael and Crowley are in the basement," he said. "Take the witch and go. I'll hold them off."

Buffy looked around frantically for Willow and finally spotted her near the stairwell, which was convenient, but it was also near the archangels… and they clearly didn't want anyone going down those steps.

Buffy, Dean, and Cas slashed and stabbed their way through the crowd trying to get to Willow. Buffy was horrified when the female archangel held a hand out toward her friend, clearly intending to smite her.

Willow held up her left hand with her palm facing outwards and the blast of angelic wrath bounced off Willow's hand and right back into the face of the angel. She flew backwards and slammed into the wall behind her, leaving a large imprint where her body had collided.

"Damn, that Seal of Salmon ring she's wearing actually works," Dean remarked in awe.

"The ring is known as the Seal of the Great King Solomon," Castiel corrected him. He was clearly not amused by Dean's mangling of the divine weapon's proper name.

"Whatever," he shrugged. "I'm just sayin' it's pretty freakin' awesome. We might actually be able to stop this thing," he noted happily.

"Go," Castiel ordered as he lifted the staff he was holding into the air and began speaking in some unknown, Biblical-sounding language. Ancient Hebrew maybe?

Buffy didn't move as ordered though. "Oh God," she said as she froze and looked around at the sea of frogs that had suddenly materialized around her. "Oh God," she repeated as she noticed the horrified expression on Willow's face. "Willow has a frog phobia!"

"What? You're friggin kidding me? She's a witch. She can't be afraid of frogs. She's supposed to keep 'em as pets and stuff."

"It's weird," she agreed and then grabbed Dean by the arm and pulled him along with her as they continued in Willow's direction. The archangel that wasn't currently stunned was quickly advancing on Cas. This was probably their best opportunity to get downstairs.

Buffy cringed as she squished untold numbers of frogs beneath her feet as they ran. There was no way to avoid stepping on the creatures (poor froggies). She could only imagine what Dean's stompy boots were doing to them. At least now she'd finally have a good excuse to burn the smelly things.

Will was in a blind panic by the time they made it to her. She kept shrieking and jumping up and down, trying to avoid the frogs that were hopping across her feet. There was no getting through to her, so Dean draped her over his shoulder using his free arm and bolted toward the stairwell.

"How is this helping?" Buffy shouted in an attempt to be heard over the sounds of croaking frogs and shouting demons (many of whom were now cursing in various languages).

"Fuck if I know," Dean yelled back. "Cas is just getting happy with the Staff of Moses, I guess. I say we move our asses before we end up covered in locusts and boils."

Buffy groaned, when almost on cue, a loud buzzing sound began to drown out all the shouting and croaking. The building began to darken around them as the cloud of locusts spread throughout the room. At least it was locusts and not boils. She was personally going to kill Cas if she ended up covered in puss-filled boils.

They ended up having to stumble blindly in the direction of the stairwell, because there was no seeing through the swarm. Buffy would've screamed in frustration at the locusts' obvious lack of usefulness to their cause, but she kept her complaints to herself because she'd rather not accidentally swallow any of the disgusting insects.

Willow finally managed to pull herself together enough to conjure a glowy ball of some sort. Thank God for that, because it kept them from breaking their necks on the stairs.

By the time they made it to the first landing, the swarm had thinned out, allowing them to breathe more freely. They stopped to catch their breaths and Dean set a very embarrassed looking Willow on the floor.

"Sorry," she said as she shrugged bashfully. "I have frog fear."

"No shit."

"When this is over," Buffy grumbled, "I'm breaking the Staff of Moses into tiny little toothpicks." She paused to frown at her gore-covered sneakers. The sight made her even angrier. "I don't care if they damn me to hell for it. It's too stupid and annoying to exist!"

Willow vigorously nodded her agreement, but Dean just looked annoyed.

"How 'bout we quit bitching and move our asses," he suggested gruffly. "I'd like to put a stop to this freakshow before you ladies decide it's time to light candles and recite poetry about the wonders of moon."

"Hey," Willow snapped, "there's a little more to it than that."

"Ignore him," Buffy said with false cheer. "He can't help it. He's suffering from a terminal case of ass-hattery. I'm just hoping it's not genetic."

"Yeah, well… bite me," Dean called out over his shoulder as he resumed his way down the stairwell.

Buffy grabbed Willow by the arm and followed him. "See what I mean?"

XXXXXXXXXX

They followed the sound of Crowley chanting in some ancient form of Latin as they made their way through the damp basement. Buffy was actually comforted by the sound, because if the demon was still chanting, it probably meant he hadn't managed to open Purgatory yet. They still had time to put a stop to this whole mess. Despite what Dean seemed to believe, she wasn't exactly looking forward to summoning Mother Nature.

The three went through a doorless entryway and were frozen for a moment by the sight in front of them. A strange symbol had been drawn on the brick wall in what appeared to be blood. Below the symbol was a stone altar. Trish lay gagged and bound to the altar with a golden rope. Blood slowly trickled from dozens of shallow cuts on her body. The sight made Buffy feel like she was standing at the top of Glory's tower once again and she had to remind herself that this was not the same thing. She was going to make it through this one. She had to.

Crowley noticed the three visitors first and stopped mid-chant.

"Bloody. Fucking. Hell!" he exclaimed before turning his gaze on the smartly dressed woman standing on the other side of the altar. "I told you to let me kill the Slayers and the friggin' Winchesters. Why won't any of you sodding halos listen to reason? I don't know how they do it, but this band of idiot savants will somehow manage to cock-up the entire works. I hope you appreciate that!"

"Relax, Crowley," the woman ordered calmly, "or I'll strike you down like the abomination you are. There's nothing these three can do aside from enjoying the show." Her gaze moved to the flaming sword Dean was holding. "How dare you wield Michael's weapon when you've refused to do your duty as his vessel. You disgust me," she sneered.

"At least I'm not bangin' Crowley," he replied.

She smiled back at him tightly. "Unfortunately, I have been forced to stoop extremely low in order to clean up your mess."

Buffy was only half-listening to the exchange between Dean and who she guessed must be Raphael, although she was a little confused by 'his' appearance. She was too busy trying to load up her heavenly slingshot. She figured this was as good a time as any to test the weapon out. She loaded it up with her largest rock and started swinging it over her head. She'd discovered that Biblical slingshots didn't exactly work like the ones she'd played with as a child. It was more like a piece of string with a leather pocket in the middle to place the stone. There was no nifty elastic band to pull back and snap. The stone was simply flung once enough momentum was built up. Luckily she had enough momentum by the time it appeared that Raphael was about to let loose on Dean. She released one end of the string just as the angel held out her hand in what Buffy had come to recognize as the classic 'smiting pose'.

The stone hit Raphael directly in the center of her chest. The angel gasped in astonishment as a bright light began spilling out from the small hole it made. The sling wasn't quite as lame as Buffy had assumed.

Dean spared a second to blink at Buffy in astonishment before taking the opportunity to move in on Raphael. She held out her smiting hand once again, but this time Dean was ready. He brought his blade down and sliced off the hand before she could release any wrath from it.

Buffy desperately wanted to free Trish now, but it looked like Crowley had decided to join the fray. He smirked at Buffy and started to come toward her. She reached for another stone, but didn't have to use it. Willow looked down at the Seal of Solomon before using the ringed hand to fling Crowley backwards and pin him against the wall.

She looked over at Buffy and grinned cheerfully. "Payback's a bitch."

'Yes it is', Buffy silently agreed as she turned her attention back to Raphael. The angel had pulled out his/her own angel sword and was going at it with Dean. Surprisingly, Dean seemed to be holding his own against Raphael. Buffy thought that was kind of odd since Raphael was supposed to be an all-powerful archangel, but she didn't have much time to think about it. She decided to take the opportunity to try and free Trish.

Trish gasped and thanked Buffy profusely when she pulled the gag from her mouth. Buffy was just relieved that the girl still had the strength to speak. She struggled with the golden ropes for a minute. They wouldn't come loose no matter how much Slayer strength she used, but she discovered that the angel sword seemed to have no problem cutting through them.

"You think you can stand?" Buffy asked once she'd finally freed Trish from her restraints.

She nodded and desperately scrambled to get off the blood-slicked altar. Despite her enthusiasm, she'd obviously been weakened. Buffy had to catch her to keep her from falling face-forward onto the concrete floor. Trish was a little hard to hold onto due to the blood, but Buffy managed to steady her. The girl looped an arm over Buffy's shoulder and stood for a few moments trying to gather her strength.

"Let's go," she finally said as she forced herself to stand straight.

Buffy didn't have to be told twice. She wrapped an arm around Trish's waist and started heading toward the door. She had to smile at the look of elation that crossed Dean's face when he saw they were on the move. The sight energized him and he stabbed out at Raphael, striking her in the side. She stumbled backwards clutching the new wound, which spilled white light like the others.

Willow was still concentrating on keeping Crowley pinned, but Dean grabbed her by the elbow and yanked her out of her stance. He pushed her through the doorway and then turned back to look at Buffy. Buffy had frozen when she'd noticed that the altar was beginning to tremble and split down the middle.

Crowley pulled himself up off the floor, straightening his suit as he did so. He gazed at the altar for a moment and then turned to grin at her. "Looks like you're too late, kitten," he gloated. "It's curtain time. Stay. Enjoy the show."

"Oh crap," she groaned. She hurried through the doorway with Trish and started to tell Willow what was happening, but Dean grabbed her by the wrist and started pulling her along. She dug in her heels and tried to stand her ground, but it wasn't working.

"Dean stop! It's too late. The door to Purgatory's about to blow wide open."

He stopped, but kept a hand on her wrist. Buffy tried to pull away from his grasp but soon realized that she couldn't. His grip on her wrist was like a band of steel. She tried again; this time using all of her Slayer strength, but his hold on her still didn't loosen. Something was seriously wrong with this picture. This was not the time for her to be losing her mojo.

She looked over at the flaming sword that he held in his other hand and it dawned on her that this wasn't a case of her losing her powers. It was a case of him gaining some. The sword was obviously way more than a nifty looking weapon. It apparently gave the person wielding it a dose of an archangel's power too. No wonder he was able to hold his own in a fight with Raphael. He was super!Dean.

She noted that he didn't look cocky or appear to be gloating over his newfound powers. Normally, Dean would get a huge kick out of something like this, but he looked dead serious. In this instance, that was much worse.

"You have to let me go," she said urgently. "We have to do the ritual before it's too late."

He shook his head at her and tightened his grip. He wasn't hurting her, but he wasn't letting her go either. This was not good.

"I can't," he said simply. "I can't let you do it."

"You have to let me do it. Dean, look. Look at what's happening," she pleaded as she glanced over her shoulder toward the other room.

The building around them was beginning to shake and the altar in front of Raphael and Crowley was splitting even further down the middle. A bright red light had started to spill from the crack.

Dean looked at the sight for a moment before returning his gaze to Buffy. He stared at her for a long moment. His features showed a mixture of fear and stubborn anger. 'This is it', she thought. They'd lost. She wasn't getting through to him. Then he glanced over at the altar again and when he looked back at her, she saw a resigned sadness in his eyes. He let go of her wrist.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I tried, but I couldn't stop it."

Buffy felt all her irritation with him melting away. Underneath all of the bullheaded stubbornness and arrogant posturing, he was only trying to protect his family and he believed he'd failed.

She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. He wrapped his free arm around her and pulled her against him and held her for a long moment before letting her go. Every muscle in his body was rigid and Buffy could see tears shining in his eyes. He truly believed he was sending her to her death.

"Don't be sorry," she said softly. "You got me here and I couldn't have done it without you. It's not all on you, Dean," she stressed. "I have my part to do too. Don't worry. We're in this together and I'm not leaving you. I promise."

He didn't respond, but there was a tiny bit of hope reflected in his eyes. It wasn't much, but she knew it was taking everything he had just to hold on to it. That was a miracle in itself. This must have been what the prophet meant when he told Dean he'd have to have faith. Chuck must have known that ultimately, it would all come down to Dean's decision. He would either have to allow the ritual or prevent it from happening. It was in his hands and he'd decided to allow it, although Buffy was pretty sure that for Dean, this was more an act of sacrifice than faith. The poor stubborn idiot believed he was letting her die to save the world again. She wished she had time to reassure him, but decided she'd better go before he changed his mind and decided to stop her.

"I'll be right back," she assured him as she stepped out of his grasp. "I've already played the 'dying to save the world' gig. I've got too much to live for this time. So, you just make sure nothing gets through that door, okay?"

He nodded and tried to give her a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Then he held the sword up and took up his station in the doorway. Crowley and a severely weakened Raphael were both standing in front of the altar. Crowley had resumed his chanting. The two didn't seem to notice or care that Dean was nearby. Obviously they thought they'd won.

Buffy ran to the corner of the adjoining room where Willow was busy frantically pulling supplies from the backpack she'd brought with her. Trish stood beside her on very unsteady feet. Buffy just hoped she wouldn't pass out before the ritual was over.

Willow poured oil into a wooden bowl with shaky hands, then shoved candles into the other two girl's hands.

"What do we do?" Buffy asked.

"Uh… well, we sorta light candles and I recite poetry about the moon. B-But it's a lot cooler than Dean made it sound," she added nervously. She started drawing a circle on the floor with a piece of chalk, speaking in a rush as she did so. "I-I chant. I light Trish's candle first, then you light yours from hers and I light mine from yours… then there's more chanting, then we put the candles in the middle of the circle. I chant some more and we hold hands. T-Then presto."

Willow was obviously a nervous wreck and it was catching. Buffy took a deep breath to clear her head. She hadn't absorbed much of Will's ramble, but there wasn't time to go over it again. They'd just have to wing it.

"We have to do this Will," she said loudly, hoping to snap her friend out of her panic. "It's now or never."

"Okay," Willow replied. "Get in the circle."

Once they were all in place inside the circle, Willow took a couple of deep breaths and closed her eyes. When she opened them, there was no trace of the nervous young woman she'd been the moment before. She emanated raw power. She held out her arms and looked up towards the ceiling and began the invocation in a strong, confident voice.

"Dark is the night of the new moon.
Here is a time of death, yet a time of rebirth.
Endings and beginnings,
Ebbings and flowings
A journey done and a journey yet to start.
As the wheel turns, we see birth, death and rebirth
and we know that every end is a beginning."

Willow stepped in front of Trish and dipped her fingers in the bowl of oil she was holding. She traced an invisible symbol on the girl's forehead and continued her chant.

"She is the maiden - she begins the eternal cycle. She is the innocence of youth, the first bloom of springtime, the lilt of the morning's first melody."

As she finished her sentence, she pointed to the candle Trish was holding and the wick flickered to life. She then moved on to Buffy and dipped her fingers in the oil once again.

"She is the mother - she is the peak of the cycle. She is the glory of ripe fields in summer, the bounty of the harvest, the patient hand of motherhood."

As instructed, Buffy lit her candle off of Trish's. She could feel her heart pounding in her throat, but stood straight as she waited for Willow to continue.

Willow paused to anoint herself and then set the oil aside and picked up her own candle before continuing.

"She is the crone - she ends the eternal cycle, she is the snow which calms the Earth in winter, the holder of the mysteries taught by moonlight, weaver of spells in the dark."

Willow lit her candle from Buffy's flame and then held it above her head. Trish and Buffy quickly followed her lead and raised their arms as well.

"She is as the Moon.
She ever begins to wax and wane and to grow forth again,
just as the seasons from one to the next flow in smooth rhythm,
from sowing to reaping,
to death and rebirth."

Willow lowered her arm and nodded. It was her way of signaling that it was time for the big show. All three set their candles in the middle of the circle and linked hands as Willow began chanting the final incantation over and over again in a voice that grew ever louder and stronger.

"By the powers of the steadfast Earth and the wheeling stars, I summon thee. By the darkness of death and the white light of birth, I summon thee, and by the terrible strength of the human soul, I summon thee."

Buffy wasn't sure how many times Willow repeated the chant. She was guessing four or five, but in her anxiety, she'd lost the ability to keep an accurate count. But after the phrase was repeated several more times with no apparent result, she began to wonder if anything was going to happen. Then the flames of the candles flared high and began twisting and intertwining like fiery serpents until one flame burned where there had once been three. It turned from an orange glow to a bright blue and then to an almost blinding white flame as it rose higher and higher. The flame was well over Buffy's head when it finally stopped its ascent. It flickered in the middle of the circle for a moment and as Willow finished one last rendition of the chant, it appeared to slowly shrink into itself until it was almost nothing. Then, suddenly, the blinding light expanded up and outwards and burst all around them. Buffy was briefly reminded of a film she'd once seen of a nuclear explosion.

XXXXXXXXXX

When he saw the white light coming toward him, Dean braced himself for the inevitable impact. For the second time in just two days, he saw his own end approaching and didn't expect to get lucky twice.

The light slammed into him with the force of something solid. He was knocked out of the doorway and into the room where Crowley and Raphael were performing their ritual. The sword went flying across the room, its flame dying the moment it left his hands. He couldn't see anything because of the blinding light. He lay on the dusty, concrete floor as it washed over him and waited… and waited… and waited some more. After a while, he got tired of waiting to die and opened his eyes.

It was eerily quiet and still. Moments ago, it had been a war between Crowley's chanting in one room and Willow's chanting in the other. Now everything was completely silent. He looked over at what was left of the altar and saw Crowley and Raphael lying next to it.

He pushed himself to his feet and walked over to where they were lying. The sight was almost unreal. The imprint of Raphael's wings was burned into the floor around him/her. Dean was pretty sure that's what happened when an angel bought it. The demon just lay still, however. There were no signs to indicate if he was dead or just knocked out. Dean decided he'd better perform some type of test, so he kicked out at Crowley's ribs with his steel-toed boots. The bastard's body moved a little from the force of the impact and Dean was pretty sure he heard some ribs crack, but he didn't stir.

He stared at the pair for a long moment as he listened for any sounds coming from the other room. There were none. He didn't expect any. He finally managed to force himself to go peer through the doorway and see what he knew he would see.

The three women were lying just as silently and still as Raphael and Crowley, but he found he couldn't go near them. He couldn't go near Buffy, anyway. He'd already stood over the dead body of almost every single person he'd ever loved. He wasn't going to do it again. He was done. He was too tired. He sunk down in the doorway and sat with his back leaning against the frame. He wasn't sure what he was even doing. Maybe he was waiting to see if his brother or anyone else had made it, but he didn't really know. He was too numb to think that far ahead.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there just staring at the door frame when he finally registered the sound of his name being called. It was Buffy's voice. At first he ignored it, thinking it was his mind playing a cruel joke on him. However, the voice became more and more insistent and held a note of concern that forced him to leave the safe, numb place he'd found in his mind.

When he looked up, Buffy was standing several feet away from him. Her brow was crinkled with worry, but otherwise she looked beautiful. In fact, she looked perfect. Every trace of the fight she'd had with Crowley's demons had been erased from her face. She was practically glowing. That's when he realized that Buffy's voice wasn't the only one he heard. He could hear Trish and Willow too. They were standing on the other side of the room, talking to one another in a very animated fashion. Trish looked better than he'd seen her look in months. She also seemed to have lost her shyness for the moment. She chatted happily as she pulled up her sleeves and pant legs to display her now non-existent cuts to Willow.

He was glad the other two girls appeared to be okay, but he didn't waste too much time looking at them. His eyes were only for Buffy. He pushed himself up off the floor and continued to stare at her. He was definitely wary. Part of him was afraid he'd finally snapped and lost his grip on reality. She couldn't really be standing in front of him, alive and whole. It wasn't possible. Good things didn't happen in his life, especially not twice in one day.

"You okay?" his beautiful hallucination asked him. "Are you hurt?"

Somehow, he managed to force himself to shake his head.

"Good," the girl in front of him said as a bright smile spread across her face.

He opened his mouth to try and reply, but the breath was knocked out of him when his arms were suddenly full of a very solid, very real woman. She'd jumped up, wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him into a deep, slow kiss. The girl in his arms smelled like Buffy, tasted like her, felt like her… he so wanted to believe this was her. He put his hands on both sides of her head and broke the kiss so he could look at her face again. She slid her feet back down to the floor and leaned against him with her arms still looped around his neck.

"It's me," she said with a smile. "Genuine Buffy. Look, I can prove it."

He wondered what she was up to when she looked at him with a very mischievous glint in her eyes. She moved her right hand from where it rested around his neck and ran it slowly down his side. When she made it to the waistband of his jeans, he raised his eyebrows at her and grinned. He wasn't sure what kind of 'proof' she was going for, but he was on board.

Her fingers lingered there for a moment like she was teasing him, then he felt a sudden and very sharp, stinging pain in his side. She'd pinched him – hard - twisting the skin over his ribs in a way that was bound to leave a nasty black and purple bruise. It was the kind of thing he used to do to Sam when they were kids and no wonder he used to get so pissed about it. It hurt like hell!

"Ow! What the hell!"

Buffy laughed. "What?" she asked innocently. "I'm just trying to show you you're not dreaming… and," she added with a smirk and a poke to his chest, "you can also consider that payback for being such a jerk. Be wary of pissing off the pregnant Slayer."

He rubbed his side and frowned at her for a brief moment. Damn, she was a vicious little thing… but more importantly she was real – very real. He forgot about the annoying, burning pain and crushed her against him.

Somewhere in the midst of his reunion with Buffy, they'd gained some company. The room around them had gotten much louder, but Dean didn't take his attention off of the woman in his arms. From the way the mostly young and female voices were chattering happily, it was obvious that there was, for once, no emergency to be dealt with. He felt Sam's large hand grasp him briefly on the shoulder and distantly heard Xander bitching at Cas about the itchy and 'oh so helpful' plague of lice. Thank God they'd made it downstairs before he cut loose with that one. Somebody really needed to take that staff away from Cas.

"Fuck!" Sam exclaimed, breaking both Dean and Buffy out of their deep focus on one another.

"Dude, what?" Dean asked irritably, but he answered his own question when he followed his brother's gaze to see Crowley - alive and well and trying extremely hard not to look terrified by the sight of a very angry Castiel. Dean didn't know how Crowley had managed to survive, but he wasn't too worried about it. Judging from the look on Cas' face, the demon's miraculous survival was going to be very short lived. But before the angel could get a hold of Crowley, something freaky happened.

A tall, pretty brunette woman that looked to be about Buffy's age materialized between the two enemies.

"Take it easy, trench coat boy," she said as she held out a hand to halt Cas. "Sorry, but I can't let you get your smite on."

"Who - ?" Castiel started to ask, but was interrupted by Xander's gasp of surprise.

"Cordy! Oh my God! But you're supposed to be –."

"Dead," the girl finished for him. "Yes, Xander, I'm aware. Not much gets by me." Her tone was full of sarcasm, but she had a smile on her face as she paused to look around the room before speaking again. When she did, her eyes were on Buffy. "You know… I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm actually glad to see you guys. Weird, huh?"

"Uh… yeah," Buffy said. "Weird's one word for it."

The girl shrugged and switched her gaze to Dean. "Looks like you did alright for yourself," she said as she looked him over and nodded. She returned her attention to Buffy and smiled in a way that managed to be both sincere and incredibly patronizing at the same time. "Congratulations, by the way. I'm sure your pregnancy will turn out a whole lot better than mine did… but I doubt you'll carry it as well. You really don't have the build for it. You're a little too short. I'm thinking beach ball with tiny toothpick legs."

"That proves it," Buffy announced. "She's Cordelia. I don't know why she's here or why she wants to protect that thing," she said as she pointed and sneered at Crowley, "but that's Cordelia. No one else can manage to say something nice and something insulting in the exact same breath."

Cordelia didn't disagree with Buffy. She just turned and gazed at Crowley for a moment before wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Guess I better do my job," she said as she clapped her hands together a few times. "Okay people, eyes on me. Here's the deal. The Winchester's prophet is pretty hung over right now… which I so don't get. I dealt with the visions and the headaches and you didn't see me turning into a hopeless drunk," she observed with an annoyed sigh. "Anyway, Chuck's drunk again and big yay for me, because I've been recruited to speak on behalf of 'The Powers That Be'- slash – 'God' – slash – 'Yahweh' – slash - 'The Great Moon Goddess' – slash – 'The Flying Spaghetti Monster'…et cetera, et cetera." She held her hands out to her sides and shrugged. "Call it whatever you like, it's all the same. Follow?"

"Not really," Buffy replied for the group.

Cordelia grinned. "Fabulous. Didn't think so. Anyway, to make a long story short… The Biblical apocalypse is officially over, the natural order has been restored, and yada, yada, yada. You may resume your freaky monster-filled lives. And oh yeah," she added as she raised an eyebrow at Virgil and swirled a finger around regally. "Gather up all these weapons and put them someplace safe. The world is not ready for that guy (she pointed at Dean) to have superpowers… plus his holy accountant-ness is getting way too happy with the plagues of Egypt."

"Thank you," Willow, Xander, and Buffy replied simultaneously.

Dean frowned at Buffy for a second. He was pretty sure she was happier about him losing the sword's mojo than she was about Cas losing the ability to spontaneously torture everyone with biblical vermin.

"Okay, fine," he grumbled. "You can all kiss my ass. I could give a shit about the superpowers... But answer the question," he said to the mysterious and kind of bitchy girl. "Why exactly can't Cas smite the shit out of Crowley?"

"Normally," Crowley interjected, "I'd rather be eviscerated than agree with Dean on anything, but I have to wonder the same thing myself. Not that I'm complaining," he added as he directed a leer at Cordelia.

She rolled her eyes. "Not even on my very worst day," she assured him. "You're only alive because supposedly there has to be a devil. Don't ask me. Guess you can call it a 'natural order thing'. It was either you or that guy in the cage. So congratulations – you're the lesser of two evils."

"I'm not sure how to take that," Crowley replied with a frown.

"Take it however you like," Cordelia said with an indifferent shrug. "Just stay away from the Winchesters."

Crowley looked back and forth between the two brothers and shuddered. "Gladly," he said with a sneer. "Nothing could please me more. Anything else, love?"

"Just one more thing," Cordelia replied with a very fake smile. "And this goes for you too, Castiel… The lock on Purgatory has been changed. So don't waste your time. Capish? Any questions?"

Dean had a few, but Cordelia disappeared before he or anyone else had a chance to actually ask a question. She'd obviously planned it that way.

Crowley looked decidedly nervous after his 'protector' was gone, so he took her departure as an opportune moment to make his own exit. He smirked at Cas and then disappeared with a sarcastic little wave.

The room fell silent as everyone tried to absorb what had just happened.

"That chick was a friend of yours?" Dean finally asked Buffy.

"Yes… no… I don't know," she replied. "We went to high school together. It's kinda weird."

"Yeah, no kidding," he said with a puzzled frown. "Really freakin' weird."

Buffy grinned and shrugged off the weirdness. "Who cares?" she asked as she wrapped her arms back around Dean. "I'm ready to go home now. I need to get busy doing nothing. I am pregnant, you know? I really shouldn't be on my feet doing stuff… or walking… or anything really. I think it's best if we go home so I can sit on the couch while you serve me yummy treats."

Dean looked down at Buffy's playful grin and decided to let the 'him serving her' thing slide (like that was ever gonna happen). Besides, the idea of going home was the best he'd heard in a long time. He was really damn tired of sleeping on the cold, hard floor. The fact that it was 'home' and not some place he was crashing, just made it that much better.

XXXXXXXXXX

A/N: Credit to Ormus45 for putting the bug in my ear about having Cordelia show up. At first I didn't plan on doing it, but she seemed like a fun way to tie up some loose ends. So hope you enjoyed.

I plan to have an epilogue out before the end of the year. Many, many thanks to everyone who's stuck with this story. I hope you all have a wonderful holiday season.