Chapter Nineteen

Voices

A/N Ok, so next episode will be S7E5 um I will be doing Ep3 but I'm moving it to later in the series because it fits better with my timeline. Hope that won't be a problem. Um, enjoy the wonderment.

Sunnydale, the world without shrimp 2002

Leaving the small gaggle of kids in the hallway, Dawn walked back to class with her new friends. Buffy scoured the length of the place, her hand tangled in her hair still as Principal Wood approached her. Oh no. I do have mum hair.

"Curiouser and curiouser." He said, making her turn towards him. Arms folded defensively across her chest.

"What is?" So this is Buffy Summers. She's shorter than I thought she'd be but as determined as she should be. Now might be a good time to enact my plan. Get her onside.

"Carlos Trejo and Kit Hollburn, right?" His head pulled a glare down the hall towards where Carlos, Kit and Dawn were walking class. "Possibly the only two students in this school whose files are as thick as yours was." Excuse me? That burning the gym down thing wasn't my fault, there was this whole nest of vamps and really it wasn't. Play it cool Summers, act like you're above it.

"You really did your homework, didn't you?" Yes, go me, that was a total owning of bad things I may or may not have done. Buffy thought as she folded her arms tighter and gave a signature head tilt to accompany.

"I was looking for one or both of them to actually implode in a fearsome way right before midterms, but now I see you got them socialising and hugging, and actually if I'm not mistaken, headed to class." Buffy smiled, maybe being a mum isn't so bad. She'd probably never even have the chance to be one so she guessed now would be a time to enjoy taking care of Dawn whilst she was still able. Before she went off to college and started her life.

"We shared..." Buffy thought for a minute before obscuring the day's events, "an encounter."

The principal was stern in his word, serious with a catch of kindness. To Buffy he seemed nice enough and well put together, she trusted him to look after Dawnie ok. He spoke with a sincerity, looking down at her great height, kind eyes. "Look. I know you're probably more than happy to get out of this place, but I gotta tell you, Miss Summers." Still with a serious look, but the 'Miss Summers' was a relief, Buffy wasn't quite sure what she'd do if she ever got a 'Mrs.'

"I think you belong here." What? Huh? I just got out of this place. It blew up remember, I did that. Sure. Buffy thought as her face morphed into scene of surprise, the muscles pulling her bottom lip down to reveal the myriad of teeth below.

"Hmm, new?" Is he about to offer me a job? Maybe? I kinda need one.

"Listen, I know the school's reputation." Yep, about a half responsible for that one. Snyder's the other half. And then there was some drivel about the school's money and suddenly Buffy was giving him suggestions. The school would definitely need support, it's the kind of school that will never be fully normal, and all those usual kid problems get blown widely out of proportion, invisible girls and fish people, ghost-zombies, and now it came with a free Spike apparently.

He finished up with, "but it would just be a couple of days a week?" Buffy perched her hands squarely on her hips, a 'mum' stance. But she didn't care. There was plenty attitude to give out to this authoritative man, she never did well with those.

"Are you asking me to be a counselor?" Is she saying yes, I hope she will, this needs to work. Buffy couldn't afford to refuse. She'd heard about the money but there was also that she could look out for Dawn at school and Xander was here everyday anyway, someone to eat lunch with.

"I'm in."

The darkness had settled into Sunnydale for the night, spilling the barrier of curtains. Spike crouched low in his basement hearing voices.

Giles was sipping tea with a book resting neatly between his thumbs as he wondered about the Hellmouth. Honestly, it worried him that Willow had sensed it, she was very powerful, containing a great magic that couldn't be held back if she lost control. She would have to learn to be restrained.

Anya was alone in her apartment, the vague memories of silent happiness floating through her empty head. The vengeance of the day again not enough to stop her heart from breaking further. No, the strength would distract her, she was Anyanka, the powerful, the beautiful. Vengeance was in her blood.

Xander was finishing off a tin of baked beans, his feet lolling over the edge of his couch, the spoon hitting the bowel in sad remorse as he tried to work out the plans for the next day. Where to start next on site? What's Anya up to? He deliberated for a couple of seconds before switching on the tv and forgetting her face from his mind. It was still his fault. But was it right?

Dawn was tucked up in bed with Mr Gordo, somehow Buffy had parted with him a couple years back. Her feet her cold though, but she was content enough. Buffy would tell her about the job tomorrow, she would have math and then biology, the loop would continue. She'd hear tall tales and frightening stories about the high school she was now attending, and just try and nod along. She'd try not to get into trouble. But there were boys now, and who's fault would it be if maybe she went out with one of them. Maybe a nice one from the football team, or maybe band. So many things to see. Buffy had been right about that, the world was wide and huge and there was just so much to be shown.

Buffy hardly slept, she tossed and turned, slightly excited about having a new job. An actual source of money for their never ending loophole of a house. It was filling up quite nicely with mouths to feed now, and the constant repairs didn't come cheap. Then she thought of the Spike she'd seen in the basement, he was ragged and pathetic. What had happened to him? Was he just an illusion? It certainly wasn't the Spike she'd known, the one who'd. Who'd taken her over, who'd abused his power over her. She turned again, the window light glaring down at her from its perch high up on the moon. Maybe that would be the man she could trust, that good ol man on the moon. She did really like cheese. Maybe it was just wishful thinking.

Willow settled into her side of the bed, Tara nuzzled into her usual spot at her shoulder. Willow wondered as the percentage of time they actually spent on her side of the bed, there was just so much extra space over there they didn't use. Not that she was complaining, Tara was like a big comfy hot-water bottle. Even if they'd gone to sleep apart - which was rare - they would end up in a tangled mess in the morning. Something that was not pretty to walk into, which many of their friends had done on occasion. The best mornings were the ones where they would end up with their noses lightly touching at the ends. Eyes fluttering open and closed as the sunlight half blinded them. Then there were the sweetest kisses, lips softly pressing, no tension, fingers stroking tenderly down each other's arms. That made Willow tingle, her tummy growing airy, a little rumbling with the feather-light touches of Tara. She couldn't deny the woman was soft, her skin was like cotton pillows and she always smelt like vanilla cookies.

"Mmm, kiss me." Willow whispered into the dark, she wasn't even sure Tara was still awake but if she was, kisses were wanted. Tara rolled over a little, reciprocating with her own 'mm' and resting her head next to Willow's on the pillow.

"Okie then." She mumbled back, leaning her head in mildly. Letting her lips collide with Willow's in a delicate kiss. Half taking Willow by surprise, she hadn't really expected a response and her mind still thought she was dreaming. Tara's hands were threading through her hair as she brush the flyaway strands behind an ear. With Tara breaking the kiss, Willow frowned, whimpering at loss of touch, she plunged forward for some more of Tara. But Tara pulled away dragging Willow across the bed until her hair was dangling over the edge.

"Ok, ok. I surrender. You got me." Tara said, raising her hands slightly, cupping them around Willow's face as she dove in for another kiss.

"Good." She replied into Tara's neck as her lips travelled down the blonde's skin. The night consuming her. All worries about the teeth below them evaporated for the day. The expanse of worry dissipated into nothingness and awaited pleasure.

Spike crouched alone in his basement, a change from his usual dank crypt. The voices surrounded him, visions of past evil. Some he'd never seen in the flesh, but he could feel their wrath against Buffy. They were taunting him, singing the song. They could bleed his ears dry if they wanted to, reciting everything he'd ever known just to farce a reaction. Many things flashed before him in those moments. Those ones, where the monsters would take him away, push him into the oblivion of hatred. They used him, but he'd never know. He was crazy, out of his mind.

The first one was Warren, the trio guy. He was so dead, very dead, flayed even. Willow had done away with him so long ago. So not long. He was back haunting him with names he did not recognise. 'Spark' was not him. That was a dead ideal. Then it changed, forming Glory, her royal evilness. She's fabulous. She was a sexy gloat, too immodest for words. She was arrogant and rude, and she made him fall. His knees buckling, he remembered the last time he'd seen her, the torture she made of him.

No, mustn't think of that, I am new, I am old. I am transformed. I can feel, I can feel all of it. I am broken into pieces if I thought this was right. This was correct. I am so wrong.

Then it moved, heightened into Adam, the evil monster of Frankenstein and it moved. It was overpoweringly tall with smooth muscle line and aching software. A true monster. Or is that me. I'm number 17 sitting in the dark truce of life, the basement of nothing. Where I shall sit for all eternity. She came to me today, so maybe I am not so alone. Buffy. I saw her, she spoke to me. She got hit. Then defeated them. I saw. I saw it all. I was there.

Now Mayor Wilkins, stupid Richard. Selling his soul to the devil. He guessed that was him now, Spike the devil. The Satanist, the blood of evil running through him for all the lives he'd taken. He could feel them all writhing, not one lost, never lost.

Now it's her, oh she glorious queen, oh mighty. What I wouldn't for her. She says I'm dark and alone with her. No, I am. Buffy. Our song, our beginnings. Mine. Where I belong. At home maybe. Our song. Drusilla.

Now some evilness from a long time ago, Buffy's first evil, her first killer. They're going back to the beginning. The old, old ones.

Now her. Only her. She haunts me finally. I shouldn't feel relieved. She's been taken, her form accused. Oh, what evil agony I shall befall unto her. She's stands over me now with power. More power than she'll ever realise. And it can't be mine.