Title: A Measure of Happiness
Author: Valerie
Disclaimer: All characters owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox, etc. I own nothing.
Summary: More post-Giftage. If you can wade through yet another Buffy resurrection, I promise there's some B/S sex a comin'!
Rating: R for adult concepts, language and semi-descriptive sex.
Spoilers: Through the end of Season 5
Feedback: Yes please!
Distribution: Sure.
Chapter 1: The Beginning
The three vampires circled, growling. They moved as a unit, which was rare; these three had obviously been hunting together for some time. They had probably come to Sunnydale thinking that the warm summer nights and the absence of a slayer would make for easy pickings. They were wrong.
The man they circled became a blur of kicks and punches, managing to take on the three fierce hunters at once. He was driven by rage and grief and guilt, and he gave no quarter. In almost the blink of an eye, two of the vampires were nothing but piles of dust. The leader, seeing that he had met more than his match, quickly cut his losses and ran into the night. For a moment, the night was still and quiet.
"You lost one!" came a sing-song voice from behind a tombstone. The fifteen-year old who owned the voice popped up and cracked her gum, regarding the vampire in the black leather duster levelly.
"Dammit, Dawn, how many times have I told you not to follow me on patrol!" Spike tucked his stake into his belt and stalked toward the other side of the cemetery. Dawn followed.
"I know, I know, but I was bored and I finished my homework. And there was nothing good on TV. Besides, Willow lets me come on patrol with her," Dawn complained.
"Yes, but patrol for Red is flinging stakes at vampires from a safe distance using her wiccan mojo. Or binding them with air and then staking them at her leisure. It isn't as dangerous."
"You know, Buffy was fifteen when she started doing it professionally."
Spike winced. Even after four months, the mention of her name was painful. "Well, you aren't a Slayer," he growled. Quietly, he added, "Be bloody well thankful for that."
They continued on in silence. Since Buffy had died, taking care of the demons and vampires that were drawn to Sunnydale by the hellmouth fell to those that had loved her and were left behind after the battle with Glory on that horrible night four months ago. Spike and Willow did much of the active patrolling, being the strongest, Spike because he was a vampire himself, and Willow because of her powerful magical abilities. Giles had decided to stay in England after debriefing the Council on Buffy's death, finding living in Sunnydale too painful. Tara, Anya, and Xander helped, but they weren't as strong, and the group was loathe to lose another of their number. Whether Buffy's sister was old enough to help out with things like patrol was becoming a source of constant tension, especially with Spike, who had taken his oath to protect her very seriously.
As Dawn was preparing another argument they came to Buffy's grave. They stopped, as all of them always did. Spike stood awkwardly for a moment, then moved to brush a few stray fallen leaves from the stone. He then let his fingers trace lovingly over the letters of her name. Buffy Anne Summers, 1981-2001. After a minute, he shrugged, almost as if he was trying to get a great weight off of his shoulders. "Let's go."
As they walked away, Dawn began to notice the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She paused, as did Spike, who also sensed something was amiss. The air smelled of ozone. Before either of them could say anything, a growing light in their peripheral vision made them whip around toward the grave, where something, some kind of light energy was growing in intensity. They stared, dumbfounded, as it grew in brightness and they shielded their eyes. Then the light seemed to explode outward, and Spike knocked Dawn to the ground, shielding her with his body. As quickly as it appeared, the light seemed to die, and the two people picked themselves up off the ground.
"What the fuck was that?" asked Dawn, whose bad language had earned her a lecture from almost everyone but Spike.
"I don't – wait, there's someone over there." Spike trotted back to the grave, where at first glance there was clearly someone or something lying on the ground. When he got there, he stopped and stood still. And did nothing, just stood and stared.
"Spike, what is it?" Dawn worked her way back over as well. "Spike? Hello, Earth to Spike, what–" Then Dawn saw what Spike saw.
"Buffy?"