Good evening, All:)
Well, better late than never. Unfortunately, I had to work late this evening, which delayed this release a few hours. But it is here.
The bad news is that it is angsty. Unless you like angst. Then more good news:)
This is another flash forward chapter. To make it *very* clear, the end of this chapter is *not* the end of this book, this story, and maybe not even the true future for our boy William. It is merely another possibility, like that visited in The Poet. It is a *far* different look at the "normal" child of a Vampire and a Slayer.
Please let me know what you think. I do hope you like this little glimpse into the future.
Next chapter will be out on Saturday. Promise:)
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Buffy, and a widdle Spike, and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002
Title: Bad Boy (Time - Chapter Fourteen)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG -13
Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.
Feedback: Yes, please
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (with, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)
Summary: Set immediately after Beggars, in another time. William is still caught in the spell of Time and is doomed to repeat his life as it might be. But is this how it's meant to happen? Is this what will happen to his family when all is said and done?
Bad Boy
Daggers of light. Like pointed comets stabbing at the night. Flashing, firing, angry points of light. There was nothing peaceful. Never was. Never will be. Nothing beautiful. Only them. Dad's girls. Sucker.
Bam, he hit the floor with a thud.
Piercing, little blue eyes stared up from a little handsome face. She stood over him, hands on girlish hips, proud and pretty and already a thorn in his child-sized behind.
He pushed himself up, wobbling on little legs, glaring at her all the while. Her eyes met his in a torrent of blue. The same, deep cerulean flashing between them like some unknown code. That's all he could see as he hurtled towards her, tossing his tiny frame against her legs and knocking her to the carpet.
"No pushing," he said, very clearly, his tone amazingly strong for such a little thing.
"Will, stop being a bully," Emma huffed, pushing him off her legs.
"You first!" He angrily responded, face red with fury.
"*You* took Bunny," she answered, propping herself on her elbows and glancing down at the floor where he'd tumbled.
"Mine!" He growled, contorting his face and glaring at her.
"Dad!" Emma screamed, trying to wrestle the rabbit from Will's clutches. Their father simply didn't appear fast enough. "Dad!"
Footsteps pounded up the stairs, followed by a softer set from down the hall. They always ran. It was like they had to save the world or something.
Emma looked up and saw her father's frame in the doorway. Her hands were still wrapped around the bunny, trying to wrench it away. William looked up as well, catching sight of his mother shadowed behind their dad. Cue the waterworks.
William wailed as if his heart had been wrenched from his chest. "Mmmmooooommmmmyyyy!"
Buffy ducked under Spike's arm, running to the boy and scooping him up from the floor. "What's wrong, baby?"
Emma sat up, humphing at the scene.
"Emmy push me!" He wailed as Buffy stroked his damp blonde hair from his forehead tenderly.
"Emma?" Spike asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.
The girl sighed. Her brother was *good*. "Well, he stole my bunny," she offered, looking down. Spike crouched to her eye level, pulling her face gently to his.
"You shouldn't push him round, Mite," her father said softly. "He's your blood."
"He's only four, Emma," Buffy contributed, trying to hush the baby curled against her.
Emma sighed again. "Sorry mum." She looked over to her father with wide, innocent eyes. Will was too good at this. Devious little snitch. She'd bide her time for now. "May I please have Bunny back?"
Spike gathered the girl up, standing. "Think that's fair."
Buffy shot him a glance questioning how he planned on extricating said rodent from hysterical, bouncing child. Spike shrugged, winking. Slowly, he and Emma walked towards them.
"Will?"
The boy turned, eyeing his father with wet, angry eyes. "Think you've something that belongs to your sis."
William hitched in his mother's arms, letting his head fall against her shoulder. "I want him," he sobbed.
Gently, Spike pulled the rabbit from the boy's grip. "Now, what does a big man like you want with his sister's girl... stuff?" Spike asked. Buffy grinned, shaking her head. "Getting to be big now. Maybe we ought to take Pony out instead."
William looked up at his mother as if requesting permission to stop clinging. "Want to go out and play?" Buffy asked, soothing him with her voice, her gentle hands. Emma rolled her eyes. William nodded shyly.
Buffy set the little boy on the floor. He stared up her, those endless blue eyes the same as his father's. Didn't help he was dressed in a clone- like outfit. Auntie Dawn thought that one funny when she'd bought it for his birthday. Last Buffy had heard, a little leather jacket was on order.
Spike kissed Emma's cheek, studying her pretty, ageless face. "Better, Mite?"
"Will you ask him to stay out of my things?" Emma negotiated, capturing her father's gaze and melting him in precisely the manner her mum did. He set her gently on the floor.
"That I will," he answered, stroking her hair. "Help your mum a bit? Then we can watch your video later."
Emma looked satisfied with the trade and glanced over at Buffy, smiling. God, they're alike, Spike thought as Emma backed up against her mother's legs, nodding.
"Exciting world of laundry, or we can make dinner?" Buffy asked, playing with the girl's hair.
"Laundry!" Both Emma and Spike snapped a little too quickly. Buffy smirked at them both.
"I'll pick up a pizza, Love," Spike continued, kissing Buffy's nose. "Ready to go do manly things?" He joked, grabbing William's tiny hand. The boy looked up, eyes glinting. Boy had that down, Spike thought.
"Ready," William repeated, clutching his father's fingers. Little did he know that he'd fall asleep before they ever made it to the park.
*****
The points of light were stabbing him. Prodding like electric shocks from a cattle prod. Flying at him. Stinging like poisoned fireflies in the night air. William thudded to the ground in a heap against the wall.
"Got to anticipate the next move," Spike said, lending a hand to his son. Will grabbed it, pulling himself to his feet indignantly.
"How was I supposed to see *that* coming?"
"Think a sodding demon gives you a bloody combat manual and a few minutes to peruse it? Spike huffed, assuming fighting stance.
"Will, you did *really* well," Emma chimed, sitting indian style against the wall. She was sixteen now and breathtaking. The spitting image of their mum, but taller, more stately, and with blue eyes as soothing as the summer sky.
"Thanks, Em, but should be able to knock the old man on his arse," Will panted.
Emma chuckled. "You're thirteen, Will. He's like what... four million?"
Spike smirked over at his daughter. "One hundred seventy four," Spike responded. "Give or take. And to those people at the school..."
"I know, I know. Forty four," Emma sighed, rolling her eyes. "You're still the man, Dad."
Spike quirked an eyebrow. "Tell your mum."
"Think she already knows," Emma smiled. "You know with the whole big blinky eyes and come hither stares..."
"Now wait a *minute*, Mite," Spike huffed, about to launch into a diatribe about what she should and should not notice about her parents fondness of each other.
"Can we get back to training?" Will interrupted, rushing at Spike. Spike parried, letting his son land several solid blows, some of which actually stung, before leaping over the pommel horse and out of the boy's way.
"Now *that* was better," Spike smiled, proudly.
"Bit of the old man in me yet," William stated, eyes gleaming as he came at Spike once again. The boy may not have his parents prophesied gifts, Spike thought, but he fought with a fire that he hadn't seen in many humans. Even at such a young age.
William spun, kicking, finally missing his mark and throwing himself back on the mat with a crash. The boy lay dazed, the back of his head pounding where it struck cement.
"Bloody hell," Spike murmured, running to the boy. "Will, you alright? Emma, grab your mum and an icepack."
*****
They hurt. No doubt about it. The stupid, sodding, sharp little stars careening through the black air and brushing against him like salted razors. The landing wasn't getting any easier either, he thought as he found himself sprawled on the shower floor.
He got up, wrapping a towel around his waist and headed into the locker room. Really, it had been a good day, he came to remember. It wasn't often that a freshman made the Varsity soccer team. Suppose all the extra training had come to some good use.
"Have you even *seen* the Windsor girl? Dude, what I wouldn't do to get inside that tight little..." Will heard as he rounded the corner to the line of lockers. A senior boy was leaned against a locker across from his own, surrounded by a group of poncy, little friends.
"What was that?" William interrupted, unfamiliar with the older boys. Football players. Yeah. And the loudmouth was the quarterback.
"Dude, the Windsor girl," the senior boy said again, turning towards William. "She's *fine*. I heard she gives it up too. And there's a rumour that her parent's are all freakish superheroes or something so she can do things with her..."
"Who are we talking about?" William asked again, his blood beginning to boil in his veins. Just wanting to clarify before the fun began. Slowly, he slid on his jeans, watching the senior. Waiting for an answer. The boy strutted like a peacock in front of his friends.
"Windsor, man. Emma. Haven't you seen her? That is one *sweet* piece of as..."
Before the football player could finish the sentence, William had made contact with a left hook, firmly planted against the boy's jaw, sending the little quarterback flying into the steel lockers and sliding down to the floor. Will straddled his slumped, wide-eyed form. "Pleased to meet you. William Windsor. And that's my sodding *sister*." Another crushing blow, this time to the senior's eye. "That you are talking about."
"Man, I'm sorry, " the footballer whimpered, shielding his face.
"Don't *ever*," William continued, kicking the boy's kidney, "Talk about her like some trivial piece of meat again." Another bare foot to the quarterback's side. The boy whimpered, curling into a ball. "Or I might just have to rough you up."
"I.... I didn't know," he stuttered.
"Should thought bout that before you mouthed off," Will growled, landing a final blow against the boy's ribs. "Have a little respect for the lady." He didn't realize it at the time, but he was grinning. Will was happily pounding the boy into the floor without thought.
Slowly, he backed a way, a flash of disgust mixing with the anger shaping his features. The quarterback stumbled to his feet, bolting to the door. His friends stood staring in shock at the freshman standing barefoot and shirtless in front of them, grin on his face and blood on his hands.
"What?" William exclaimed, throwing his hands out to the sides. "Got something you'd like to add?"
"Dude, you're whacked," one of the remaining boys responded, scampering out of the room.
"Stay away from my blood, then," William mumbled to himself, plopping down on the bench. His aching, angry head fell into his hands."
*****
They felt like daggers now. White hot, speeding through space. Didn't matter much. Not like he could be any more brassed off with the lot that life had dealt him. Dealt them. Only way to deal with it was to be a man. Take the pain. Turn it round and use it against whoever crossed his path.
"Ouuugh," he grunted as he was pushed onto his back, landing hard on the mattress.
She slapped a hand over the juncture of her neck and shoulder. "Will, why the hell do you *do* that?"
"Told you not to call me that, Pet," William smirked, biting the inside of his cheek and making those perfect cheekbones all the more prominent.
"Look, you can call me the Queen of England and it doesn't make it so," the girl snarked, lying naked and spent on the sheets. He rolled over, grabbing a cigarette from the bedside table and lighting it. The smoke and scent of tobacco filled the room. Living on his own had its advantages. He'd moved out on his eighteenth birthday. The six months of freedom from *them* had been bliss.
"Don't see you complaining bout the services rendered," he smiled, running a long finger down the valley between her breasts. She sighed, letting a small smile play on her lips.
"Will... Edge.. Whatever.. Just.. what is it with the biting? You may live alone, but I have to go home and explain to my father why I have the mother of all hickeys..."
"Claming you, Pet," William answered. "Making you mine."
"Do you even know what that means?" River asked, sitting up, completely comfortable in her nudity and his. Not your normal eighteen year old girl. Then again, she'd known everything. Everything about his parents. His sister. Still she stuck around. Never serious. Mostly, nights like this where they screwed with reckless abandon and then didn't talk for weeks. But only River got it. Only she understood. "You're not a Vamp, Will. Your mom would.."
"Leave my bloody mother out of this," William huffed. The facade was all he had. He needed to be him. Needed to be the man his father had been. The demon. He hopped out of bed, strutting naked across the floor. "Dad had it straight before... she made him soft."
River sighed. "Your father was a killer before her."
William humphed, heading out to the kitchen and swinging open the refrigerator door. "Got the job done. Fiercest of all the dark warriors," he called, rummaging for a Gatorade. Emma came over with groceries twice a week. And to make sure he hadn't gone off and lived out his little Vampire fantasies. William wouldn't listen to his mum anymore. But somehow, Emma could always get through.
"And that's what you want?" River called back. He reappeared in the bedroom doorway, looking over at her.
"Thought you liked me this way, Pet," he snarked. He *was* glorious, backlit by the kitchen light. A little taller than his father, his hair a sandy brown and mussed in a bed head of curls. Rippled muscles under smooth tanned skin. Those perfect blue eyes.
"I like *Will*," she sighed. "The one who buys his sister flowers because it's Friday and who *used* to help his mom cook dinner and take the dog for walks with his dad."
"Fraid he's dead," William answered, taking a swig of his drink. "Nothing but grief being a good guy."
River studied him a moment. "Will, what happened to your father was an accident," she whispered, walking over to him. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, toying with the soft hairs on the nape and pressing herself against him.
"No bloody accident," William snapped, pushing her away. "Demon killed him because they made him soft. So, mum rolls over and gives up. Emma's trying to save the bloody world. And for what?"
River looked at Will wide-eyed. "I dunno. For.... ice cream and sunshine and... mind blowing sex?"
William chuckled, his hand pressed against the small of her back. "Don't care much for the former anymore. The latter, however..." he growled, backing her towards the bed.
A sudden, shrill beep filled the room as he toppled River back to the sheets. He tried to ignore it, spending his energy burying all of his anger in her. But the sound went on and on until finally he scrambled to the bedside table, picking up the small, silver phone.
"What?" William growled into the receiver.
"William?" Buffy's voice trembled into the phone.
"Not interested," Will answered, pulling the phone away from his ear.
"Don't hang up!" She screamed. Slowly, he pulled the phone back to his ear. "They've got her. Emma," Buffy choked.
"Where?" Will asked, crawling off the girl and searching the floor for his jeans.
"I'm headed to the alley off Ninth and Cedar."
"I'll handle it," William snapped, grabbing a black T-shirt from a pile on the chair.
"Look," Buffy retorted, annoyed. She was panting, running. Always running. "I don't really care anymore that you blame me for what happened to.. what happened to Spike. But I loved him. And I love her. And you. And I'm still the goddamn Slayer so don't begin to tell me where *not* to go. I thought you might want to help."
The phone was silent. The line went dead. He stared at it a moment, then pulled the aged black duster from the back of the desk chair.
"Where you going?" River asked, pulling the sheet up to her chest.
"Little pre-coital violence, Pet. Keep it warm. Be back," he gushed, disappearing out the door.
*****
When he found the alley, his mother and his cousin were the only ones standing. Bodies lay in heaps along cement walls. Bleeding. Wounded. Dead. Poor souls. Probably better off where you are now, he thought, grabbing a sword from his Uncle Xander's ashen, limp hand.
Emma hovered above the pavement, wrapped in white light. Bird had always been beautiful, but when she got all Peace-d out, she was a veritable angel. She looked at him, terror and relief in her eyes. Tears streaming.
Buffy had a broad sword, hacking at the lapping darkness that seeped up from the wounded ground. She seemed to be holding them, but not doing much to actually kill them off. The boy fighting next to her just looked afraid.
For a moment, he thought, should've been me at her side. For that matter, should've been dad. But both of them had left her, in one way or another. Dad died trying to save her. William ran away. Now she was the One. All alone.
And even the One couldn't kill the darkness.
Without thinking, Will rushed at the scene, primal roar of rage and anger, sword thwacking at dark tendrils as they grabbed at him. Buffy looked over, catching his eyes for just a moment, and smiled.
He'd forgotten how beautiful she was. How much he loved her.
She'd forgotten how much her baby looked like his dad.
A scream pierced the night and the boy on her left was pinned to the wall, a misty black tendril jammed through his heart. The colour drained from his face. "Oh, God," Buffy whispered, her hand slapping over her mouth.
Will stared a moment, the fear turning quickly to anger. Anger becoming rage. Rage, blind fury. He blindly hacked at the darkness, working his way towards Emma. Buffy regained her composure and began towards Emma from the opposite direction. Surrounding their blood. Protecting the girl.
One creature broke their perimeter and Buffy turned to drive it back. It caught her ankle, pulling her to the pavement. She began to slide, sucked down into the Earth.
"Mum!" Will screamed, dashing towards her, grabbing her hand. She held on, terror gleaming like blood in her pretty green eyes.
"Will," she whispered, staring up at him. Etching him into her memory.
"Hold on," Will urged, his own tears beginning to spill.
"Will, they've got her," Buffy whimpered. "Help her."
William's head spun and the darkness spiraled around his sister. Taking her light. Emma looked at them, helpless.
"Mum, I can't leave you here," William argued, turning back towards his mother.
She smiled, closing her eyes. "I love you."
"Dad wouldn't have left you here," the boy cried desperately.
Her eyes opened again, wet and settled, accepting her fate. "Yes," she sighed, "He would." With that, she let go, falling into the black abyss.
William sat wide-eyed, stunned. She was gone. Like that. Like dad. Gone. He couldn't save them.
Emma. Oh God.
William turned, grabbing the sword and running towards Emma, hacking back the darkness as if they were black vines. She was disappearing. Her light fading into the walls, the concrete.
"Emma!" William screamed, struggling towards him.
Her eyes focused on him and she reached out her hands. Will leapt, trying to grab them, feeling her skin brush his.
But instead of catching her, he felt his weight thump against the empty pavement. Darkness seething everywhere. William scrambled to his feet again, but she was gone.
Nothing left.
They were all gone.
To be contd.
Well, better late than never. Unfortunately, I had to work late this evening, which delayed this release a few hours. But it is here.
The bad news is that it is angsty. Unless you like angst. Then more good news:)
This is another flash forward chapter. To make it *very* clear, the end of this chapter is *not* the end of this book, this story, and maybe not even the true future for our boy William. It is merely another possibility, like that visited in The Poet. It is a *far* different look at the "normal" child of a Vampire and a Slayer.
Please let me know what you think. I do hope you like this little glimpse into the future.
Next chapter will be out on Saturday. Promise:)
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Buffy, and a widdle Spike, and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002
Title: Bad Boy (Time - Chapter Fourteen)
Author: Nimue
Rating: PG -13
Pairing Buffy/Spike. Most major characters included.
Feedback: Yes, please
For instant notification of fic releases, straight to your mailbox, please visit Always_Everyday@yahoogroups.com
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, Fox... Just Borrowing. (with, of course, the exception of Emma and William, who belong to Buffy and Spike)
Summary: Set immediately after Beggars, in another time. William is still caught in the spell of Time and is doomed to repeat his life as it might be. But is this how it's meant to happen? Is this what will happen to his family when all is said and done?
Bad Boy
Daggers of light. Like pointed comets stabbing at the night. Flashing, firing, angry points of light. There was nothing peaceful. Never was. Never will be. Nothing beautiful. Only them. Dad's girls. Sucker.
Bam, he hit the floor with a thud.
Piercing, little blue eyes stared up from a little handsome face. She stood over him, hands on girlish hips, proud and pretty and already a thorn in his child-sized behind.
He pushed himself up, wobbling on little legs, glaring at her all the while. Her eyes met his in a torrent of blue. The same, deep cerulean flashing between them like some unknown code. That's all he could see as he hurtled towards her, tossing his tiny frame against her legs and knocking her to the carpet.
"No pushing," he said, very clearly, his tone amazingly strong for such a little thing.
"Will, stop being a bully," Emma huffed, pushing him off her legs.
"You first!" He angrily responded, face red with fury.
"*You* took Bunny," she answered, propping herself on her elbows and glancing down at the floor where he'd tumbled.
"Mine!" He growled, contorting his face and glaring at her.
"Dad!" Emma screamed, trying to wrestle the rabbit from Will's clutches. Their father simply didn't appear fast enough. "Dad!"
Footsteps pounded up the stairs, followed by a softer set from down the hall. They always ran. It was like they had to save the world or something.
Emma looked up and saw her father's frame in the doorway. Her hands were still wrapped around the bunny, trying to wrench it away. William looked up as well, catching sight of his mother shadowed behind their dad. Cue the waterworks.
William wailed as if his heart had been wrenched from his chest. "Mmmmooooommmmmyyyy!"
Buffy ducked under Spike's arm, running to the boy and scooping him up from the floor. "What's wrong, baby?"
Emma sat up, humphing at the scene.
"Emmy push me!" He wailed as Buffy stroked his damp blonde hair from his forehead tenderly.
"Emma?" Spike asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.
The girl sighed. Her brother was *good*. "Well, he stole my bunny," she offered, looking down. Spike crouched to her eye level, pulling her face gently to his.
"You shouldn't push him round, Mite," her father said softly. "He's your blood."
"He's only four, Emma," Buffy contributed, trying to hush the baby curled against her.
Emma sighed again. "Sorry mum." She looked over to her father with wide, innocent eyes. Will was too good at this. Devious little snitch. She'd bide her time for now. "May I please have Bunny back?"
Spike gathered the girl up, standing. "Think that's fair."
Buffy shot him a glance questioning how he planned on extricating said rodent from hysterical, bouncing child. Spike shrugged, winking. Slowly, he and Emma walked towards them.
"Will?"
The boy turned, eyeing his father with wet, angry eyes. "Think you've something that belongs to your sis."
William hitched in his mother's arms, letting his head fall against her shoulder. "I want him," he sobbed.
Gently, Spike pulled the rabbit from the boy's grip. "Now, what does a big man like you want with his sister's girl... stuff?" Spike asked. Buffy grinned, shaking her head. "Getting to be big now. Maybe we ought to take Pony out instead."
William looked up at his mother as if requesting permission to stop clinging. "Want to go out and play?" Buffy asked, soothing him with her voice, her gentle hands. Emma rolled her eyes. William nodded shyly.
Buffy set the little boy on the floor. He stared up her, those endless blue eyes the same as his father's. Didn't help he was dressed in a clone- like outfit. Auntie Dawn thought that one funny when she'd bought it for his birthday. Last Buffy had heard, a little leather jacket was on order.
Spike kissed Emma's cheek, studying her pretty, ageless face. "Better, Mite?"
"Will you ask him to stay out of my things?" Emma negotiated, capturing her father's gaze and melting him in precisely the manner her mum did. He set her gently on the floor.
"That I will," he answered, stroking her hair. "Help your mum a bit? Then we can watch your video later."
Emma looked satisfied with the trade and glanced over at Buffy, smiling. God, they're alike, Spike thought as Emma backed up against her mother's legs, nodding.
"Exciting world of laundry, or we can make dinner?" Buffy asked, playing with the girl's hair.
"Laundry!" Both Emma and Spike snapped a little too quickly. Buffy smirked at them both.
"I'll pick up a pizza, Love," Spike continued, kissing Buffy's nose. "Ready to go do manly things?" He joked, grabbing William's tiny hand. The boy looked up, eyes glinting. Boy had that down, Spike thought.
"Ready," William repeated, clutching his father's fingers. Little did he know that he'd fall asleep before they ever made it to the park.
*****
The points of light were stabbing him. Prodding like electric shocks from a cattle prod. Flying at him. Stinging like poisoned fireflies in the night air. William thudded to the ground in a heap against the wall.
"Got to anticipate the next move," Spike said, lending a hand to his son. Will grabbed it, pulling himself to his feet indignantly.
"How was I supposed to see *that* coming?"
"Think a sodding demon gives you a bloody combat manual and a few minutes to peruse it? Spike huffed, assuming fighting stance.
"Will, you did *really* well," Emma chimed, sitting indian style against the wall. She was sixteen now and breathtaking. The spitting image of their mum, but taller, more stately, and with blue eyes as soothing as the summer sky.
"Thanks, Em, but should be able to knock the old man on his arse," Will panted.
Emma chuckled. "You're thirteen, Will. He's like what... four million?"
Spike smirked over at his daughter. "One hundred seventy four," Spike responded. "Give or take. And to those people at the school..."
"I know, I know. Forty four," Emma sighed, rolling her eyes. "You're still the man, Dad."
Spike quirked an eyebrow. "Tell your mum."
"Think she already knows," Emma smiled. "You know with the whole big blinky eyes and come hither stares..."
"Now wait a *minute*, Mite," Spike huffed, about to launch into a diatribe about what she should and should not notice about her parents fondness of each other.
"Can we get back to training?" Will interrupted, rushing at Spike. Spike parried, letting his son land several solid blows, some of which actually stung, before leaping over the pommel horse and out of the boy's way.
"Now *that* was better," Spike smiled, proudly.
"Bit of the old man in me yet," William stated, eyes gleaming as he came at Spike once again. The boy may not have his parents prophesied gifts, Spike thought, but he fought with a fire that he hadn't seen in many humans. Even at such a young age.
William spun, kicking, finally missing his mark and throwing himself back on the mat with a crash. The boy lay dazed, the back of his head pounding where it struck cement.
"Bloody hell," Spike murmured, running to the boy. "Will, you alright? Emma, grab your mum and an icepack."
*****
They hurt. No doubt about it. The stupid, sodding, sharp little stars careening through the black air and brushing against him like salted razors. The landing wasn't getting any easier either, he thought as he found himself sprawled on the shower floor.
He got up, wrapping a towel around his waist and headed into the locker room. Really, it had been a good day, he came to remember. It wasn't often that a freshman made the Varsity soccer team. Suppose all the extra training had come to some good use.
"Have you even *seen* the Windsor girl? Dude, what I wouldn't do to get inside that tight little..." Will heard as he rounded the corner to the line of lockers. A senior boy was leaned against a locker across from his own, surrounded by a group of poncy, little friends.
"What was that?" William interrupted, unfamiliar with the older boys. Football players. Yeah. And the loudmouth was the quarterback.
"Dude, the Windsor girl," the senior boy said again, turning towards William. "She's *fine*. I heard she gives it up too. And there's a rumour that her parent's are all freakish superheroes or something so she can do things with her..."
"Who are we talking about?" William asked again, his blood beginning to boil in his veins. Just wanting to clarify before the fun began. Slowly, he slid on his jeans, watching the senior. Waiting for an answer. The boy strutted like a peacock in front of his friends.
"Windsor, man. Emma. Haven't you seen her? That is one *sweet* piece of as..."
Before the football player could finish the sentence, William had made contact with a left hook, firmly planted against the boy's jaw, sending the little quarterback flying into the steel lockers and sliding down to the floor. Will straddled his slumped, wide-eyed form. "Pleased to meet you. William Windsor. And that's my sodding *sister*." Another crushing blow, this time to the senior's eye. "That you are talking about."
"Man, I'm sorry, " the footballer whimpered, shielding his face.
"Don't *ever*," William continued, kicking the boy's kidney, "Talk about her like some trivial piece of meat again." Another bare foot to the quarterback's side. The boy whimpered, curling into a ball. "Or I might just have to rough you up."
"I.... I didn't know," he stuttered.
"Should thought bout that before you mouthed off," Will growled, landing a final blow against the boy's ribs. "Have a little respect for the lady." He didn't realize it at the time, but he was grinning. Will was happily pounding the boy into the floor without thought.
Slowly, he backed a way, a flash of disgust mixing with the anger shaping his features. The quarterback stumbled to his feet, bolting to the door. His friends stood staring in shock at the freshman standing barefoot and shirtless in front of them, grin on his face and blood on his hands.
"What?" William exclaimed, throwing his hands out to the sides. "Got something you'd like to add?"
"Dude, you're whacked," one of the remaining boys responded, scampering out of the room.
"Stay away from my blood, then," William mumbled to himself, plopping down on the bench. His aching, angry head fell into his hands."
*****
They felt like daggers now. White hot, speeding through space. Didn't matter much. Not like he could be any more brassed off with the lot that life had dealt him. Dealt them. Only way to deal with it was to be a man. Take the pain. Turn it round and use it against whoever crossed his path.
"Ouuugh," he grunted as he was pushed onto his back, landing hard on the mattress.
She slapped a hand over the juncture of her neck and shoulder. "Will, why the hell do you *do* that?"
"Told you not to call me that, Pet," William smirked, biting the inside of his cheek and making those perfect cheekbones all the more prominent.
"Look, you can call me the Queen of England and it doesn't make it so," the girl snarked, lying naked and spent on the sheets. He rolled over, grabbing a cigarette from the bedside table and lighting it. The smoke and scent of tobacco filled the room. Living on his own had its advantages. He'd moved out on his eighteenth birthday. The six months of freedom from *them* had been bliss.
"Don't see you complaining bout the services rendered," he smiled, running a long finger down the valley between her breasts. She sighed, letting a small smile play on her lips.
"Will... Edge.. Whatever.. Just.. what is it with the biting? You may live alone, but I have to go home and explain to my father why I have the mother of all hickeys..."
"Claming you, Pet," William answered. "Making you mine."
"Do you even know what that means?" River asked, sitting up, completely comfortable in her nudity and his. Not your normal eighteen year old girl. Then again, she'd known everything. Everything about his parents. His sister. Still she stuck around. Never serious. Mostly, nights like this where they screwed with reckless abandon and then didn't talk for weeks. But only River got it. Only she understood. "You're not a Vamp, Will. Your mom would.."
"Leave my bloody mother out of this," William huffed. The facade was all he had. He needed to be him. Needed to be the man his father had been. The demon. He hopped out of bed, strutting naked across the floor. "Dad had it straight before... she made him soft."
River sighed. "Your father was a killer before her."
William humphed, heading out to the kitchen and swinging open the refrigerator door. "Got the job done. Fiercest of all the dark warriors," he called, rummaging for a Gatorade. Emma came over with groceries twice a week. And to make sure he hadn't gone off and lived out his little Vampire fantasies. William wouldn't listen to his mum anymore. But somehow, Emma could always get through.
"And that's what you want?" River called back. He reappeared in the bedroom doorway, looking over at her.
"Thought you liked me this way, Pet," he snarked. He *was* glorious, backlit by the kitchen light. A little taller than his father, his hair a sandy brown and mussed in a bed head of curls. Rippled muscles under smooth tanned skin. Those perfect blue eyes.
"I like *Will*," she sighed. "The one who buys his sister flowers because it's Friday and who *used* to help his mom cook dinner and take the dog for walks with his dad."
"Fraid he's dead," William answered, taking a swig of his drink. "Nothing but grief being a good guy."
River studied him a moment. "Will, what happened to your father was an accident," she whispered, walking over to him. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, toying with the soft hairs on the nape and pressing herself against him.
"No bloody accident," William snapped, pushing her away. "Demon killed him because they made him soft. So, mum rolls over and gives up. Emma's trying to save the bloody world. And for what?"
River looked at Will wide-eyed. "I dunno. For.... ice cream and sunshine and... mind blowing sex?"
William chuckled, his hand pressed against the small of her back. "Don't care much for the former anymore. The latter, however..." he growled, backing her towards the bed.
A sudden, shrill beep filled the room as he toppled River back to the sheets. He tried to ignore it, spending his energy burying all of his anger in her. But the sound went on and on until finally he scrambled to the bedside table, picking up the small, silver phone.
"What?" William growled into the receiver.
"William?" Buffy's voice trembled into the phone.
"Not interested," Will answered, pulling the phone away from his ear.
"Don't hang up!" She screamed. Slowly, he pulled the phone back to his ear. "They've got her. Emma," Buffy choked.
"Where?" Will asked, crawling off the girl and searching the floor for his jeans.
"I'm headed to the alley off Ninth and Cedar."
"I'll handle it," William snapped, grabbing a black T-shirt from a pile on the chair.
"Look," Buffy retorted, annoyed. She was panting, running. Always running. "I don't really care anymore that you blame me for what happened to.. what happened to Spike. But I loved him. And I love her. And you. And I'm still the goddamn Slayer so don't begin to tell me where *not* to go. I thought you might want to help."
The phone was silent. The line went dead. He stared at it a moment, then pulled the aged black duster from the back of the desk chair.
"Where you going?" River asked, pulling the sheet up to her chest.
"Little pre-coital violence, Pet. Keep it warm. Be back," he gushed, disappearing out the door.
*****
When he found the alley, his mother and his cousin were the only ones standing. Bodies lay in heaps along cement walls. Bleeding. Wounded. Dead. Poor souls. Probably better off where you are now, he thought, grabbing a sword from his Uncle Xander's ashen, limp hand.
Emma hovered above the pavement, wrapped in white light. Bird had always been beautiful, but when she got all Peace-d out, she was a veritable angel. She looked at him, terror and relief in her eyes. Tears streaming.
Buffy had a broad sword, hacking at the lapping darkness that seeped up from the wounded ground. She seemed to be holding them, but not doing much to actually kill them off. The boy fighting next to her just looked afraid.
For a moment, he thought, should've been me at her side. For that matter, should've been dad. But both of them had left her, in one way or another. Dad died trying to save her. William ran away. Now she was the One. All alone.
And even the One couldn't kill the darkness.
Without thinking, Will rushed at the scene, primal roar of rage and anger, sword thwacking at dark tendrils as they grabbed at him. Buffy looked over, catching his eyes for just a moment, and smiled.
He'd forgotten how beautiful she was. How much he loved her.
She'd forgotten how much her baby looked like his dad.
A scream pierced the night and the boy on her left was pinned to the wall, a misty black tendril jammed through his heart. The colour drained from his face. "Oh, God," Buffy whispered, her hand slapping over her mouth.
Will stared a moment, the fear turning quickly to anger. Anger becoming rage. Rage, blind fury. He blindly hacked at the darkness, working his way towards Emma. Buffy regained her composure and began towards Emma from the opposite direction. Surrounding their blood. Protecting the girl.
One creature broke their perimeter and Buffy turned to drive it back. It caught her ankle, pulling her to the pavement. She began to slide, sucked down into the Earth.
"Mum!" Will screamed, dashing towards her, grabbing her hand. She held on, terror gleaming like blood in her pretty green eyes.
"Will," she whispered, staring up at him. Etching him into her memory.
"Hold on," Will urged, his own tears beginning to spill.
"Will, they've got her," Buffy whimpered. "Help her."
William's head spun and the darkness spiraled around his sister. Taking her light. Emma looked at them, helpless.
"Mum, I can't leave you here," William argued, turning back towards his mother.
She smiled, closing her eyes. "I love you."
"Dad wouldn't have left you here," the boy cried desperately.
Her eyes opened again, wet and settled, accepting her fate. "Yes," she sighed, "He would." With that, she let go, falling into the black abyss.
William sat wide-eyed, stunned. She was gone. Like that. Like dad. Gone. He couldn't save them.
Emma. Oh God.
William turned, grabbing the sword and running towards Emma, hacking back the darkness as if they were black vines. She was disappearing. Her light fading into the walls, the concrete.
"Emma!" William screamed, struggling towards him.
Her eyes focused on him and she reached out her hands. Will leapt, trying to grab them, feeling her skin brush his.
But instead of catching her, he felt his weight thump against the empty pavement. Darkness seething everywhere. William scrambled to his feet again, but she was gone.
Nothing left.
They were all gone.
To be contd.