Countdown: The Eleventh Hour
By ElsaF

Rating: PG-13 (very mild gay snuggles, and later some
violence)

Spoilers: We're back in the 24-verse, which split off and went
AU after Dead Things.

Summary: In the 24-verse, Buffy allowed Spike to explain the
demon eggs and they didn't break up at the end of As You
Were. But Spike's insistence that she let her friends know about
them means they break up a little while later. Buffy makes up
her mind and tells her friends -- only to discover they all ready
knew. But when she went to Spike to tell him the secret was
out, it was too late -- he'd left town. Meanwhile, the Scoobs
raided the Nerds, and Jonathan and Andrew are in custody.
Warren escaped.





Willow sat up slowly. The room was flooded with sunlight.
She looked over to see Tara still asleep beside her, her lover's
dark blonde hair spread out on the pillow, her eyes still
peacefully closed. Could waking up be any better?

She swung her feet out from under the sheet to make contact
with the floor.

"Hmmm... where'd you go?" murmured Tara from behind her.

"Time to get up, sleepyhead. I bet it's after 10."

Tara's eyes opened. "Oh no! I have a class. Didn't you set an
alarm?"

"I think I forgot. Principals of Philosophy?"

"What?"

"Your ten o'clock class."

"Oh... yeah. Looks like it's too late now. I guess we might as
well stay right here."

"Sorry about making you miss your class."

"That's OK. Professor Markman is really boring. I fall asleep
half the time anyway. I'll get the notes from Amanda."

"Amanda?" Willow said, raising an ever-so-slightly jealous
eyebrow.

"Just a friend. A non-gay friend."

"Oh... I didn't mean... I mean... well, I know you have friends."

Tara smiled. "Only one special friend."

Willow lay back down beside her, cuddling up with her head
on Tara's shoulder.

"Yeah, me too." She took Tara's hand and they laced their
fingers together. They lay together, listening to one another
breathe for a long moment.

"Um... I was wondering, um... maybe you could move back
here. I mean, if it's OK with Buffy, though I don't see why
she'd say no."

"Oh... uh... I don't know. It's kind of soon. And my roommate,
she'd have to find someone else to share the rent."

"Oh..." Willow said, her face falling.

"That doesn't mean I can't come over a lot. And you can come
to my place, too. I have my own bedroom. And next
semester..."

"It's OK. I can be patient."

"I don't hear anybody else in the house," Tara said, changing
the subject. "Wonder where Buffy and Dawn are."

"Well, since it's mid-morning on a Friday, I'm guessing Dawn's
at school."

"Oh, right. I forgot. Been away from the routine for a while.
Buffy's gone to work?"

"Don't think so. She's on Sunday through Thursday now. And
she doesn't go in until noon anyway."

Tara sat up and put her bare feet on the floor. Her T-shirt was
hanging over the bedpost and she grabbed it and pulled it over
her head. Her jeans were on the floor and she picked them up.

"Getting dressed already?"

"We can't stay in bed all day, lazybones," she said with a laugh.

"Why not?"

"Because Buffy's probably being very, very quiet to keep from
disturbing us. We need to get up and let her know she can go
back to slamming things around."

Willow lay back and giggled. "Yes, a quiet Buffy is a brooding
Buffy. And a brooding Buffy is a dangerous Buffy."

"I felt sorry about Spike," Tara said seriously. "I mean, I
thought they were going to work it out. But now she'll have to
wait until he gets back."

"If he comes back," Willow said, reaching off the edge of the
bed to the floor where her clothes were lying in a heap.

"Oh, surely he will."

Willow was fastening her jeans when she glanced out the
window.

"Oh! That's why Buffy's so quiet. She's outside. And Xander's
here. Hope he's cheering her up."

"Xander's good at that," Tara replied.

"Sometimes. When he isn't too wrapped up in his own
troubles."

-----------------

Xander sat next to Buffy on the bench.

"So, here we are," he said glumly. "The few, the proud, the
jilted."

"Be fair," Buffy replied. "It's our own fault. Nobody to blame.
What he was asking wasn't such a big deal. It was important to
him, and I refused. I can't believe I was so stupid. Everybody
already knew."

"Well, maybe if we hadn't been so careful to not let you know
we knew, you wouldn't..."

"No, it was all my fault. I should never have gone to him if I
was too ashamed to let anybody know about it. How could I do
that, Xander? I was telling him he wasn't good enough to be
seen with me. You know how much that must have hurt him?
When did I turn into Cordelia? God, of all the awful things that
could have happened to me, why did I have to turn into
Cordelia?"

"I know Cordelia, Buffy. Cordelia Chase was once a friend of
mine, and I can tell you, you're no Cordelia Chase..."

"Ha, ha..."

"Oh, give me a break. You try to come up with quips when you
feel like a freshly horked up hairball."

"Have you tried to talk to Anya again?" Buffy asked gently
putting a hand on his shoulder.

Xander shook his head and looked away. "Um... last time went
bad enough."

"Give it some time. It's not going to be easy, but if you really
want to make it up to her..."

"I don't think I can."

"Never say never..."

--------------

Willow had gone to the bathroom to wash her face. Tara
peeked out the window. Xander and Buffy were deep in serious
conversation. She hoped they were finding some comfort
together. She felt bad that her friends were so unhappy. Maybe
some comfort food for lunch would help. It wasn't much, but a
pot of chili and some fresh-baked corn bread couldn't hurt.
She'd have to see what was in the refrigerator. Buffy wasn't
famous for keeping a well-stocked pantry. This might mean a
trip to the grocery.

It was a beautiful day for a walk to the store -- with Willow,
naturally. The sun was shining, there wasn't a cloud in the sky.
She glanced at the driveway when a movement there caught
her eye, and stepped back in shock.

-------------

"It's not just that I can't make it up," Xander said glumly. "But I
don't deserve to be forgiven. How could I have been such an
utter coward?"

There was a sudden pounding sound coming from the house.
Buffy looked up to see Tara beating her fist on the second-
story bedroom window. She was shouting something, but
Buffy couldn't quite make it out.

"Look out!" came Tara's muffled voice. "It's Wa..."

"What?" Xander said, looking up.

The first bullet missed completely. It whizzed by Buffy's ear
before she registered that she'd heard the crack of the gun. She
spun around to face Warren, who was pointing an automatic
pistol directly at her. He held the weapon awkwardly, but the
rage on his face told her he was absolutely serious about using
it.

"You think you can just do that to me? That I'd let you get
away with it? Think again ..."

For Buffy, time seemed to slow. She saw his finger tighten on
the trigger. She saw the flash as the gun fired. She saw the
bullet coming toward her. She heard the sharp crack of the
shot, and even had time to realize she'd seen the flash before
the sound reached her. She knew she had to move or it was
going to strike her in the center of her chest. But her legs
wouldn't respond. She was frozen in place...

Until Xander tackled her and pushed her aside. She felt his
body jerk as the bullet hit him.

Time snapped back to its normal speed. Buffy charged toward
Warren...

------------

Tara ran for the stairs shouting to Willow.

"Warren's out there and he's got a gun. Call the police!"

Willow came out of the bathroom looking confused for a
moment then followed Tara down the stairs. Her hands were
shaking as she picked up the phone and dialed 911.

-----------

Buffy didn't hear the third and fourth shots. She didn't feel the
impact as third bullet hit her. She just knew that somehow her
charge toward Warren had stopped and she was on her back on
the ground.

Tara was looking down at her, her face a mask of horror.

"Buffy! Can you hear me?"

She was confused. But she knew she was still alive. She could
feel her hands and feet. She could move her legs.

"Xander," she said. "Help Xander. I don't think I'm that bad."

Tara looked over her shoulder and let out a little cry. Her face
disappeared, and Buffy was looking up at blue sky. Got to get
up, she told herself. She levered herself into a sitting position
and the pain began -- a sharp stab in her shoulder. Her right
arm was numb. She looked down and saw a red stain spreading
across her blouse.

"Police and EMS are on the way," Willow said, as she
crouched down beside Xander, where Tara was carefully trying
to turn him on his back.

"Xander, Xander..." Willow kept saying. Buffy watched with
an odd feeling of detachment. It was like watching a show on
television. This couldn't really be happening, could it?

"Put pressure on the wound," Tara said. "We've got to control
the bleeding. Oh, God... there's so much blood. So much..."

Buffy felt a hand on her shoulder. Tara was with her, trying to
get her to lie back down.

"You're bleeding, Buffy. You need to lie flat and let me put
pressure on the wound."

"Is Xander..." she heard herself say.

"It's bad. But the ambulance is on the way. He's still breathing.
Now lie down. You need help, too."

Buffy let Tara push her back. She looked down and saw the
other woman's hands bathed in red. Tara's hands were pressing
something against her own wound. There was so much blood --
Xander's blood. It was splashed on Tara's T-shirt and smeared
on her arms. And now Tara was getting Buffy blood on her too.
Buffy blood was mingling with Xander blood. Tara was taking
a bath in blood. What did that mean? What was happening?

She heard sirens. And everything went black...

---------------

Spike parked the motorcycle at the trailhead. The wilderness
area supposedly closed at sundown, unless you had a camping
permit. But soulless vampires aren't big on applying for
permits, so he just smirked at the wooden sign erected by the
California Department of Natural Resources detailing the rules
for this mountain hiking area.

He didn't have any camping equipment. And he certainly didn't
plan to do any camping. He took another look at the
enumerated rules on the board. Number eight was "No
smoking." OK, that one made sense. Forest fires, bears with
shovels. Here to change. He took the cigarettes out of his
pocket and laid them on the seat of the motorcycle.

With that, he took off walking down the dark trail, his duster
billowing around his legs.

There were things in these mountains that most of the fresh-air
freaks who came out here to camp had no clue about. But he
knew. He'd been listening to the gossip in the demon bars for
enough years to know where to find what he was looking for.
He'd heard about the demon that had its lair up in these
mountains. Most hikers would never even see the entrance to
the cave. You had to know it was there, and have a strong
desire to reach it to be able to see it at all. And if the stories
he'd heard were true, getting to it wasn't going to be easy.

But none of that mattered. He was going to find it if he had to
wander these mountains for a hundred years. And when he
found it, he was going to get what he came for.