Chapter Ten

The calm before the storm

A/N Ok this is the last chapter before the end of season finale/battle which will take place in a separate story. It's exciting, actually I've been refraining from watching season 7 all the way through before I finish this, so it's very exciting.

Sunnydale, the world without shrimp 2002

As the night had tired on, the others had all retreated to bed after a long evening of sitting around the dining table, just laughing and enjoying the company of each other. There had been piles of books strewn across the table's surface, but all closed and ignored as the gang retold stories and ate stale cookies. Buffy strolled through her empty appearing house when she noticed the sleepy version of Giles perched over the breakfast bar, she wondered how long he'd been there, just watching. That was his job, she guessed. Then she remembered never having seen him quite in that position before, it was unusual enough just to have him there, but he really reminded her of her mother when he stood in their kitchen. Like they'd been a team, taking care of her separately but always with the same goal in mind. He was half of what she needed, but half was enough for now.

Taking her place behind the counter Buffy poured deep into Giles' familiar disapproving green eyes, today however all she saw in them was the sparkle of relief. A glint to let her know he was so proud for no apparent reason, he needed to know what his pride was for, so she would tell him. "Why are you here Giles?" She said, a faint approximation of a smile glamouring her lips, hiding her true grief.

"Xander." Giles started, rubbing his eyes gently to get rid of the aroma of sleep that was slowly overtaking him. "He er called from the hospital, told me about you getting shot, he thought I should know." Buffy smiled, she'd kind of forgotten about the hospital, a sudden worry filling her about how anxious they must have been, ok granted I've died a couple times before but this time it wasn't a demon so maybe that caused a slight panic. Regarding how Willow had reacted to her previous incursion, it shouldn't have come as such a surprise that they would react so grateful of her return as they been that afternoon, Buffy recollected as she remembered the tight hugs that had pulled her swollen body inwards.

"So you dropped your cup of tea and ran all the way here to save me, I suppose." She replied smugly, sipping something cold and almost slimy from some coffee she'd probably made hours ago. Her fingers grasping the mug gently as she brought it to her lips. He smiled before replying, he looked tired, awash with the sudden world he'd been thrust back into, his old paths colliding. But he'd missed her jokes.

"I came as soon as I heard, yes." He lifted his hand to the new stubble left on his chin, he had been losing himself in countless books since he'd left and not having anyone to notice the little deficiencies within him. His motive and want to share his forgotten news reeled in the back of his brain, not surfacing because he was too tired to remember.

Buffy looked down, a seriousness overcoming her as her smile flipped to a sad frown, a crease in her eyebrows. She nodded along with him slowly, thinking. He noticed, taking her full face in as he searched her. "Buffy what's happened here? What have I missed? It's not just Warren is it." It was a statement, not a question, he knew what was brewing, but again, it was lost to his mind now.

"God." Buffy sighed, leaning away from the counter slightly, "I don't even know where to start." Her body language moved away from him, pushing his help as she delved for what was wrong. There were so many things she needed him for. Not looking at him now. "Everything's just been so..." She trailed, her words catching as she dodged his stare. "Willow lost her magic, it's all better now, but for a minute there Giles, she lost it. She went too far and I barely even noticed the cracks." Giles sighed, he'd been away too long, missed too much. Clearly it was too soon for her to be able to cope.

But Buffy continued, "Xander left Anya at the altar, and apparently, she's a vengeance demon again." Giles head swooped upwards, his eyes opening fully now as he remembered his long forgotten news and stared harder. "I don't know though." Buffy added, "Dawn's a total klepto." She cut him off again, his finger raised as he pushed his glasses further up his nose. The bridge cracking slightly after all their use. The coven, he needed to say. The seer. What she'd sensed, what was coming. Willow.

But there was more, "money's been so tight, I've been slinging burgers at the Doublemeat Palace, and..." Buffy continued, her breath pushy as she hesitated, the last thing was a shattering to get out, it felt like glass poking against the pink flesh of her throat as she spoke softly, her usual concerned manner. "And I-I've been sleeping with Spike."

She looked up, her cheeks a soft blush as her face softened. His eyes were still bolt open, his eyebrows tilted inwards, towards each other and a crooked arch between them. Her eyes went around squarely before she bit her lip and forced her eyes to the countertop, the white marble pattern making an indent for the first time in five years. Then he was laughing. Cupping his mouth tightly as his face scrunched into a heavy giggle, pulsing with the glee of a boy. His voice wining as he contained his ferocious chuckling.

Buffy cracked, her lips curling into a smile as she joined him, it was too much to let him laugh alone, and she needed the endorphins. Realising the ridiculousness of it all as she finally heard it all out loud. Sleeping with Spike. She was sleeping with Spike, like actually having sex with Spike. It was ridiculous, and so his laughter was contagious. God, she'd missed him. They calmed down as they hugged again, it lingered, the smell of him comforted her, she felt at peace, for the first time since. Well since she had been at peace. Finally the phrase 'rest in peace' actually means something.

"I shouldn't have left Buffy, you weren't ready, I should've known that." Giles said calmly, peeling back from her as he spoke.

"No, you were right to leave, I need to start acting like a real grownup." She huffed out another sigh, "I'm just stupid." Half expecting and wanting him to reject it and protest that she wasn't, maybe that would help.

"We're all stupid." A not-Giles person replied from the kitchen doorway, the redhead smiled as she strolled past them towards the sink, shuffling Buffy out the way slightly. The scent of sex wafting from her as she drank then refilled the glass, setting it down on the counter. Giles leaned back a little, a slight fear settling under the skin of his jacket. Not that he said anything, putting the uneasiness around Willow down to the tiredness and long journey. Signalling to Buffy about sleeping on the couch, as most people seemed to do, barely a night went by without a visitor to the couch, it was a permanent fixture of the Summers' household. As well as stakes.

Willow smiled as she left the kitchen, she was still wearing her nightshirt from earlier as she left with one final message, her head peeking round the doorframe. "This is for the missus." She said proudly, holding up the glass like it was a trophy.

There were dozens of tables, all littered with hardly used parts and Star Wars comics open on various pages. Mostly pages with broken stormtroopers and exposed wiring, somehow Andrew knew what all the colours, meant, like a secret code he'd performed several times under pressure. Jonathon felt useless, run down. He hardly needed to be there and it made him wonder what the entire point of breaking him out was, why didn't Warren just take Andrew and leave, he already felt betrayed this was just a kick in the balls, if he were to be made the scapegoat again.

Warren danced around the scene, his feet sliding around the linoleum as he connected various pieces of metal with a burning soldering iron. It sizzled as he touched it to the wires, the face staring back at him a mirrored creation. His finest work. A mess of himself, an army of supervillains, a plan right out of Andrew's dangerous obsession. A clone race of metal and wires, none programmed with puns though, he wouldn't make that mistake again, so girly.

He could feel Jonathon's stares from the lonely chair across the room, his eyes glinting in pale working light, "oh, do cheer up. School's out for the summer." He said laughing, his voice deeper and stronger than before, his power increasing as his eyes darkened to their new blackened form, he was high. On evil.

"You're too close." Anya pushed him away from her lightly, her fingers tingling slightly as they made contact, their connection still viable, still there. They were laying out the weapons on the table, sorting out which ones could be used and whether they needed to sharpen anymore stakes. Not that stakes would be any use against Warren, but then again, a stake through the heart will kill most things. They'd been lumbered with this together because they couldn't do magic or help without petty disputes getting in the way, so they'd been renegaded to weapon sorting.

"Look Anya, Warren is not going to care if we live or die, so we have to be ready. Are you with him on this?" Xander burst out, the anger resurfacing, it was not that he was angry with her, she just knew how to get to him. He loved that about her though, she made him feel worth arguing with.

Anya looked down, her sadness returning as she answered softly, not feeling the rage for vengeance that often overtook her. "I care if you live or die Xander." Then thinking he might go all soft on her again, swiftly changed her angle. "I'm just not sure which one I want."

"Again, not helping." He sneered back at her, curling his lip so his meanness was reflected in his lying eyes. He detached his feelings from her, pushing her away, burying himself so that if he lost her. If he lost her, it wouldn't feel so painful, because it was painful, it hurt. His chest ached from the hurt, his heart carrying around her burden.

"I need to know if you're going to turn on me." He said, deciding to be practical, to keep his head cool. His head tilted towards her seriously, but she only looked away from him. Down towards her hands, her actual work laid out in clean rows by now, each weapon checked and accorded.

She finally turned, pushing anything left in her palms to the table, her neck swiftly shifting towards his eyes. "There is nothing in this world that would give me greater or more lasting satisfaction than to reap bloody vengeance on you, Xander Harris. But I can't, not officially, not magically. So smile it's your lucky day. You got away with it. I can't hurt you." Her inner monologue was screaming to run away and get out of there like she had those few years back. If only he'd come with her. But no, he had to stay and protect his precious Buffy. They hadn't even kissed then, weren't in love but there was something, something she knew would break her and ruin vengeance and she wouldn't let it anymore.

He stared for a few seconds unsure of how to shout at her now, all she could do was shout, she couldn't do anything else. This should have come as a relief to Xander but it didn't. He'd thought deep down there was some reason she hadn't reeked her vengeance on him yet, like there still might be a chance. No, there was nothing. She just wasn't allowed, it really was that simple. Then he was talking, saying all the things he shouldn't in his possessive anger. Making her stop. Pause. Think. Before she gave him those sweet matching brown eyes that could melt his rage in a heartbeat.

"That wasn't vengeance." She was talking about Spike, "It was solace." How was he solace? How? Just how? He was Spike. A soulless monster who'd bruised Buffy against her will, and we know what that kind of bruise meant. He was a monster.

Anya looked so pitiful. She was calm and tired and sick of fighting a dead end. "I can't hurt you Xander, now back off, you're too close." She said after a lifetime of wanting him back, she shoved his encroaching body backwards, the blow forcing him to retreat. He had his back turned to her as she left her final words. "This wouldn't be happening if it wasn't for you."

He stopped, his whole body aching with the idea of get out clauses and this tortured fight being over. He turned slowly and stared hard, piercing her soul as he said. "You think I don't know that, this is all my fault. All of it." He brushed his hair back, it was sweaty and sticking awfully to his forehead. "Anya, I saw it..." He breath was shaking as he processed the words rolling off his tongue. "I saw the gun, when Warren, when he. I could've said something, but I didn't, Buffy could've fought him then, he shot my best friend and I didn't stop it." Xander spilled, his guts half hurling as the tears jutted from his eyes, his whole face contorting into an awkward jerk as he cried pathetically. It's all my fault.

"So, if you wanna know, how useless, I really am. How hateful. There it is. It's my fault." He said raising his hand in defeat, and walked towards the kitchen. Too abrupt, he didn't hear Anya's last plea. A quiet whisper as she felt him walking out on her again.

"I was talking about us."