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A/N: Hey all! I know, it's been awhile since I updated. Don't pummel me with anything, please, like everything right where it is. I was going to do update this weekend, but real life gave me a severe kick in the ass. But, all is well and here's the newest chapter. It's split in two for no real good reason except that it was bloody long. Thanks to all my readers for sticking with me and for all the positive feedback. It makes me glow:) Please keep Reviewing!!! Let me know what you think:)
Till Next Time. Enjoy!



Chapter 14: Sweet Serenity


The rest of the day was spent in silence, save the two men held up in the loft library, neither coming down for anything except to retrieve a pen or pencil. Buffy went several times to Spike's door, raised her hand to knock, but she knew he was still sleeping. Part of her wanted to curl up next to him like she did the other night, gaze out the window and watch the day go by, having not a care in the world except for the man beside her, holding her close.

She left him alone though, knowing he needed rest, and went to the living room and watched British TV shows she never heard of. She flipped the channels, nothing catching her interest until she hit the news. The weather report said rain off and on for the next three days. It was then she remembered the wretched storm from her dream.

"Giles!" she shouted.

Giles and O'Malley ran to the banister and looked down at the Slayer. Her eyes were wide watching the TV screen. "Buffy, what is it? What is the matter?" Giles called down to her.

"I never told you. I totally forgot to tell you about my dream."

"Oh, the Slayer's been having dreams, has she?" O'Malley inquired as he came down to sit beside her.

"Y-yes, I had another dream last night. This one... it was much more vivid. Whatever this Ill Fated Night is, it's coming soon."

Buffy told the two men everything, the vast hills, the makeshift alter, the storm. She told them about the eyes and the blood. She wasn't afraid of the girl; she pitied her. The girl, she knew it was Leila. And then there was the other vampire standing against the wind and the rain that thrashed his body. He waited for what was to come.

Buffy's voice shook as she told Giles and Shamus of her struggles to get to the vampire. She feared for the world, but could do nothing except scream into the night. Then there was the lightning.

"A big bolt of lightning struck the vampire's chest."

"And this vampire...it was Spike, was it not?"

Buffy nodded. "I didn't know it at first, but the air...there were...blue sparks all around the place."

"Sparks you say?" O'Malley rested his chin in his small hands and leaned forward.

"Yeah, like electricity. With that and the lightning, I could see his face. It was him." Buffy sniffed softly at the admission. "So, what does this mean, Giles?"

"Well, it could mean any number of things. It could be metaphorical or...literal."

"No, Spike is not going to die. Not while I'm still the Slayer!"

"Buffy, I did say it could be metaphoric."

"Whichever it is," O'Malley began, "Buffy is most certainly dreaming of the Night of Ill Fated, when the mystics are so dense the air crackles." Buffy's face fell at the leprechaun's words. He did not like the possibility of losing his friend either, but it could very well come to pass. "Nothing is ever certain, Slayer. You've proven that numerous times or so I've heard. I worry for William as well. He is a gallant man if ever there was one and exceptionally strong willed. He will stop the boss and Leila; try to save the girl if he can. That is his nature."

Buffy swallowed. "You think he'll kill himself saving the world."

"If it comes to that, I know he will; he will do anything to save you, save us all."

"I won't let him; it's not his job. I'll stop him."

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Giles insisted. "This can still be metaphorical, Buffy."

But, the Slayer wouldn't have any of it. She ran upstairs and threw on her patrol clothing. Something needed to die and soon. She had to kill something, anything would do at the moment, fresh born fledgling, a minion, a dumb ass demon, something that would fight her. She needed to fight; it was her job, her calling. It wasn't Spike's. She died to save the world, he was supposed to stay alive and watch over her loved ones. No, he wasn't going to die, neither was she, not for a long while atleast. They were going to survive this, walk away hand in hand ready to face life. Her determination had never been stronger. And yet, doubt always found a way to creep into her mind and heart.



"Very well. Everyone has their assignments, yes?" the boss asked his minions. A rumble of affirmative responses came from the mass. "If you have questions, ask them now." No one responded. "You've all done very good work. Now, Team One will be heading out in a matter of minutes. Team Two will have exactly ten minutes to perform their mystics. Team Three, be on standby, alert at all times and ready for the contingency plan should the need arise. I doubt it will though."

The boss ran his fingers through his dark hair. "Once this phase is complete, it will only be matter of days until the Night of Ill Fated. And it will be successful." He said the last part more to himself than his employees. "I've worked too long and too hard, wasting my talents on ungrateful people without the slightest sense of what it means to be" His voice trailed off, not wanting to air his dirty laundry in front of these creatures. "I've work too hard to have this bullocked up now. Playtime is over. Villains do not get days off."




The Watcher told him about Leila's possible demise. All thoughts of staying in flew out the window. He needed to find something on Leila. None of the snitches knew where she was and the other demons he grabbed in the streets were too scared to utter a syllable. The only thing he managed to get out of the tight-lipped cretins was that the man was very rich, well connected and ruthless. That much Spike already deduced! What he did not know was that he was said to reside in the area surrounding Spike's townhouse.

Spike spent most of the night stalking in the shadows of his neighborhood. If this man or thing was so close by, did he watch them, know their every move? Or was he so cocky he didn't give two shits? Spike needed to decide what kind of man he was.

The possibilities ran through his mind during patrol and continued as he lay in bed. He stared at the canopy, searching for answers in the raw silk. What kind of creature would impose himself on a confused young woman, solicit her help, her bed, only to kill her later? What kind of creature would do that for a chance to become immortal? And what kind of creature never showed himself or made any attempts on his enemies?

"A rich, cocky human," Spike ascertained. It had to be a human behind this. The Slayer part of Leila would never trust a demon and the vampire portion of her would crave kinship, companionship, something humans also needed. But, how? How could this man convince Leila he simply wanted to help? It was with this thought that weariness overtook the vampire's body. So lost was he in his slumber that he did not hear the slight creak of his window open nor the pitter patter of feet on his carpeted floors.




The room was covered in a green haze, the atmosphere sick from the creatures it's forced to host. She was in her bedroom, her entire body covered in a layer of sweat. Her breath was ragged and she was crying. Giles was at her bedside as was Shamus and Colin. Dawn stood at the foot of the bed, concern in her pale blue eyes.

What was going on? Why was she in so much pain? She'd never felt pain like this before. White hot agony poisoned every vein, every nerve ending was at attention. Even breathing hurt. Her chest felt empty as it rose and fell in quick succession. Nothing eased her pain. She couldn't ask her friends what was wrong and they offered no words of comfort. They simply watched her.

Buffy blinked as her eyes filled with more tears. When would it end, this unknown torment that threatened to rip her apart? Why couldn't someone help her?

She saw Xander and Willow appear behind Dawn, the same sympathetic faces. Her friends were all there. Where was Spike? She looked all around, but wasn't there.

Another cramp raged through her stomach. Where was he? He needed to be here...for this...for her.

A soft light appeared at Buffy's side. She turned her head with much effort. There she saw the most heavenly sight. Her mother leaned over and brushed a kiss on Buffy's forehead.

"Mommy," Buffy sobbed.

"I'm right here, honey," Joyce whispered to her daughter.

Buffy's hand crept up her body, one held her aching stomach, the other her heaving chest. "It hurts so much, Mommy. Make it stop, please," she begged her mother. She didn't know how much more she could take of this.

"Don't worry, Buffy, it's almost over and I'm right here."

"Wh-where is he?" she choked out. "He needs to be here."

Joyce smiled sweetly at her little girl. "He will be, Buffy. He wouldn't leave you, not now, not ever."

Buffy looked away. She heard the words, but couldn't let herself believe them, not until she saw his blue eyes gazing lovingly into her.

The door to her bedroom opened and there he stood in his black duster, standing stock still.

"Spike?" she croaked. He looked up at her, but she couldn't see his eyes. "Spike?" she repeated. Why wasn't he coming in the room?

Another wave came and she cried out to him once more. When she looked back, a figure stood behind Spike. It was Leila. Dread laced through Buffy's heart.

The girl placed her small pale hand on Spike's shoulder. Spike winced at the contact and fell to the floor.

"Spike?!" He wasn't moving.

Leila reached out to the door, the devil jumping out of her eyes, and yanked the door shut.

Buffy's swollen eyes closed. She tried to contain her tremors at his loss; it just hurt too much to move. Spike had to come back.

"La Nasckita."

She opened her eyes half way and looked over to her sister. "What are you saying?"

Dawn pointed to the book now in Giles's hand. "La Nasckita."

Just then, she heard a blood curdling scream; Death itself screamed out to her. And she yelled back.

"Spike!"



"Nooo!"

Buffy tumbled out of bed onto the floor, her body full of spasms. For a moment she wasn't sure if she was still asleep, trapped in her room unable to move without intense agony.

She managed to roll herself onto her back. Everything was still dark, must still be night. How long was she asleep?

She went to bed almost immediately after her quick patrol with Giles. She had a feeling a Slayer dream would visit her. Nothing prepared her for the blinding pain she experienced. What will happen to her that would bring about such a feeling?

Buffy tried to control her breathing as she stared up to the ceiling and beyond. She pictured the stars above and wondered if the PTBs were watching her right now. Or did they leave her? In a way, Buffy hoped they had left, so she could walk away and hopefully avoid anything or anyone that could give her that pain.

Buffy's hands automatically went to her chest and stomach. She shut her eyes and concentrated on her breathing.