Good evening, All,
Wow, hectic week at Chez Nim. I am barely eking these out. Not because I am out of ideas, but because I'm out of time! I have this all sorted in my head and have to get it down on paper to share. Not to mention I *still* owe Crystal what is now a half written piece of yumminess for her birthday. Poor girl. She's got to be bored playing with her Spike!Bot by now. (yeah, right).
Well, one of my betas just sent one word back with this chapter. Unsettling. That, I'm afraid, it is. But I will right it before all is said and done. I would not call this angsty, but unexpected and disturbing it will be. Hang on and have faith. All will be well.
Let me know what you think!
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002
Title: Autumn into Summer (Chapter Thirty of The One)
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 . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .
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: Spike battles the demon in Buffy. Giles pleads with Cyrus for his help to save the Pawn. Xander and Oz go off to follow the trail and hopefully protect the kids. Buffy manages to get to the house and realizes that something very important is missing.
Autumn into Summer
Spike lay on the ground, stunned. His eyes swimming from the force of the blow. His mind reeling from what he thought was about to happen. Buffy. His girl. The only thing she now recognized about him was that he was her match in battle. Her most worthy adversary.
Her foe.
Buffy grinned down at him, hopping to her feet in a feral, catlike motion. Spike had only a split second to come to his senses and roll hard right before she pounced, missing him by centimeters. As she scrambled towards him, he pushed the thoughts of caressing her, kissing her, loving her, into the back of his mind and let the annoying little light inside of him bubble to the surface. Even then, he knew he couldn't kill her. But he'd have to fight. He'd have to fight her as he had when they'd met. One on one.
Spike desperately wanted to know that they'd still never find out who would win in the end. That particular question never need be answered. But he knew that if it came down to it, as always, she'd be the victor. He just didn't have it in him to draw their last breath.
Buffy's eyes glittered yellow as she hopped again to her feet, stalking towards him, her stance not so much the perfect, balanced form of the Slayer, but rather the primal, tight muscled motion of a predator about to strike. He spread his feet, bracing himself and took a breath, never letting his eyes leave hers. Willing her back.
"Shall we?" Buffy grinned, her eyeteeth now extended to her bottom lip. Her face contorted into a grimace not far from Spike's game face.
"Buffy," Spike whispered. "Please."
"She's not home," the voice in her body hissed, the grin spreading. "But I am."
"And I will bloody well beat you out of her if I have to," Spike snarled, positioning himself for defense.
"You can try," she answered. Before he could form another word, she hurtled through the air, covering the distance between them in less than a second, her foot catching his shoulder and sending him reeling into the mausoleum. He countered, grabbing her leg as she landed and twisting hard, using her momentum to toss her to the ground.
The smile on her face widened as she kipped up to meet him, spinning and throwing a perfect reverse roundhouse to his gut, catching his arm as he threw a fist and slamming it back to his side, landing a left hook, all in one movement. Spike's hand came to his face, feeling the blood trickle from his mouth and down at her. Her eyes glittered and her nose twitched, smelling him. Tasting his blood on the air.
"You can't have her," Spike snarled, stopping her next barrage and squeezing her hand until it nearly broke under his grip and she relented.
"But yet, I do," she answered, giggling and tearing free of his hold. The demon had taken over completely. He had to get her to fight it. Had to get her back to the surface. Had to stop her from pounding him into oblivion before hand.
She raised an eyebrow and launched again, landing another kick to his gut. He went with the flow of the kick, hurtling into a perfect back flip and landing a safe distance back from her. To the casual observer, it must have looked like Cirque du Soleil met Smackdown.
"Buffy, you've got to fight it," Spike pleaded, trying to catch her gaze.
She stopped for a second, looking at him questioningly. Intently. Almost as if she was listening. He took that as a good sign. "Pet, it's me. Don't want to fight you. Don't want to hurt you."
At that, she laughed, the sound crisp and clear in the night air. Her eyes met his again. "Now that's funny," the voice said. It was barely hers anymore. "Almost had me there for a second. But then. you hurt me. Spike, you're just full of the funnies, aren't ya?"
He took another step back. She took one closer. He didn't want to hurt her. Didn't want to have to fight her in earnest. Didn't want to break and batter the body he'd loved for so long. Needed to be whole for when it was hers again. Didn't need to have bruises and scars made by him. They had enough scars. "Buffy, Love, please."
"Enough talking, "she whined, stepping closer again. "Can't we just fight?"
"Don't want to, Pet. Not this way." Truth be told, they fought all the time. But they never went out to hurt each other. Not anymore. They just sparred like bear cubs until they either got tired out or shagged away the rest of their energy. That wasn't what this was. She wanted to take him.
She wanted the question answered.
"Well, I wanna," Buffy answered. "So, either fight back, or hand me your stake and we'll put you out of your misery."
It wasn't her. He knew it wasn't, but it stung all the same. For a moment, he faltered, letting his eyes drop from hers and she took the opening and attacked. Fists flew, striking him in a flurry of impacts as she punched and kicked and snarled. Spike only defended at first, blocking what he could from landing, but finally realized that the only way that he might have a chance at breaking through to his Buffy was wearing down the demon. The muscles in his jaw clenched and he began to fight back.
Blows rained down, both of them moving so fast, still drawing from the One, that it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. Whose fist had made contact with whose purpling flesh. The dance was off and the battle on as he swaggered between kicks and they tossed insults that they hadn't used since they had been true enemies. She took every advantage, the rules of engagement no longer in effect and low blows and even lower words the fair of the night.
Until finally, in a stroke of complete luck, he had her pinned to the ground, his knees holding her legs, his hands gripping her arms.
"Buffy," he panted; staring down at her flushed and battered face. Even still, he'd left only red marks, pulling some of the force before he'd struck. He could feel blood trickling from wounds above his eye and below his cheek. "Buffy, listen to me."
Her jaw clenched and her body struggled for a moment, until finally, her eyes fluttered up to meet his. "What?" She hissed. "Just kill me and be done with it. Don't get all taunty on me now."
Spike softened, trying to reach inside her mind and pull her to the surface. Push the demon back for her, but it was too strong. Still, he could feel her, just behind those yellow eyes. Maybe he could get to her. "Pet, I won't kill you. I'd die first. You know that."
"Your loss," she answered tritely.
"Yes," Spike answered. "Got a lot to live for, I have."
The yellow eyes stilled, staring up at his. She was silent, but Spike could feel her struggling just behind the demon. Pushing towards him.
"Need you back, Buffy. Gotta fight the demon so we can set things right. I love you, Pet." Spike leaned his face towards hers until his lips were just a hair's breadth from hers. "I love you, always."
"Everyday," a very small, desperate, voice whispered underneath of him.
His eyes drifted to hers, seeing glimmers of green emerging in the gold as if autumn was trying to change back to summer in her eyes. "I love you, Pet," he repeated. "Need you. Emma and Will need you."
"My babies," the small voice answered, still struggling.
"They're safe," Spike answered, nuzzling her cheek gently. "Got them somewhere safe." His grip on her arms released just a fraction and he realized at the last moment, that that error had been critical.
"You took my babies," the hissing voice said, flipping them over until she was on top of him. "And I wanted something tender tonight," she whined. Spike struggled to flip them back but the next, and the last, thing he felt was her fist make contact with his temple and the world shift to black.
~~~~~~
Cyrus sat stiffly in his armchair, listening to Giles get him up to speed on their plight. He had spent the last evening on a marathon conference call with Council headquarters in London and was operating on no sleep while trying to absorb what had become a grievous situation.
"Can you help?" Giles asked nervously, watching Cyrus's exhausted eyes blink back at him.
Cyrus tried to focus, sorting through the barrage of words that had just been thrown his way. "Buffy's mother is the pawn. Draconius stole her from Heaven. If any of us deactivate the pawn by destroying the amulet, then Buffy's mother is returned not to Heaven but to Draconius to do with her as he sees fit. However, if we do not deactivate the pawn, then the One remains imbalanced and the Slayer will become more and more Vampiric, while the Vampire becomes more like the Slayer. Have I followed?"
Giles quirked a brow. "You all right, Cyrus?"
The Immortal raised his hand to his forehead, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "I'm just quite tired. Council quarterly meeting and."
Giles winced, forgetting that he probably should have attended the teleconference as well. As if reading his mind, Cyrus spoke, "But I did inform the others that you were quite busy with the Slayer."
"Thank you," Giles answered, slipping off his glasses and rubbing them on his shirttail. "Do you think, well, with your connections.?" Giles' head rolled towards the ceiling as if he could picture Heaven in the stucco above.
Cyrus sighed deeply. "You want me to go back. Talk to them." It was a statement of fact rather than a question. Really, they hadn't any choice. Traveling from mortal to non-mortal dimensions was never safe or easy, however, as an Immortal and an emissary to a queen, Cyrus could move quickly and directly to the source.
"Yes, yes," Giles answered, nodding shyly. "It is quite important. And Emma isn't quite old enough yet to debrief in regards to the mission."
Cyrus sighed again, standing up and rolling his shoulders, stretching. "I don't suppose that this is something I could do after a good night's rest, is it?"
Giles smiled, knowing that his colleague would do whatever it took, whenever he had to, to protect Emma and her family. "No, I'm afraid that the situation has become quite dire."
"Right then," Cyrus agreed, nodding quickly. "Guess I'll be off."
Giles looked at his knees, then back up at the Immortal. "Cyrus, may I ask where you. I mean. How do you travel to.?"
"Oh, it's quite elaborate with portals and spells and chanting and all sorts of buggery," the Immortal chattered, all the while his very being fading into nothingness. "It takes all sorts of knowledge and bushelfuls of herbs and candles and."
With that, Cyrus disappeared in front of Giles' amused eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~
Xander drove slowly down the street, a cell phone held to one ear. "Yeah, we're on the Bi-Coastal heading out of town towards the water. Yeah. Wait, let me ask, Oz?"
Oz pulled his head in from the window, his nose still twitching from scenting the air. Xander had to laugh. "What?"
The giggling died down. "What with the van and the sniffing and the. Bad Scooby Doo flashbacks."
The wolf smirked and stuck his head back out the window, sniffing again. "It's going straight towards the water, man."
Xander pulled the phone back to his ear. "Wolfman says that the trail is heading towards the water. Yeah. How's it going with the sparkliage? Might help out if we can follow the trail of magical glittering breadcrumbs."
"My sniffer's getting beat," Oz joked, shaking his head in the breeze. Xander laughed again despite himself.
"Right. Okay," Xander continued into the cell phone. "Ooh, almost done. Firework time? Oz, get your head in the window, man."
The werewolf pulled his head in the window just as the air began to crackle and the trail lit up like sparklers on the fourth of July. "Now *that's* what I'm talking about," Oz grinned, nodding.
"Looking good, Will," Xander commented, picking up speed and following the winding road towards the water. "We have lift off. Or at least shiny sparkly stuff. Thanks. Yeah. Spike and Buffy been back yet? Hope she's okay. I'd stick to telling Spike. No way to know how she'll react. Okay. Yeah. We'll let you know where we end up. "
With that, Xander hung up the phone and followed the silvery trail.
~~~~~~~
Buffy's legs pounded against the pavement towards the house on Revello. Both she and the demon were desperate to get there. To find out.
The demon wanted to punish her by harming her babies.
Buffy was torn between wanting to know they were safe at home and wanting them to be safe somewhere else.
Her heart beat against her chest at a frantic pace, her legs pumping at supernatural speed, racing down the road towards the house. Following the familiar, worn trail down the grass across the street, skirting onto the sidewalk and bounding up the front steps. Before she even thought about it, the door was off its hinges and she flew past Tara and Dawn in the living room and up the stairs.
"Buffy?" Dawn called, walking to the bottom of the stairs and taking the first step.
"Dawn, I don't know if you should follow her. I mean, she may not be herself," Tara warned, standing up. Dawn paused, craning her head behind her and waiting.
"Where's Spike?"
Tara furrowed a brow. "He's not behind her?"
Dawn could see clearly out to the street. She shook her head at the Witch. "I don't see him."
A flash of terror crawled up Tara's spine as she pictured the wound in Spike's neck. Buffy was only getting worse. Something was very wrong. "Dawn, don't go up there. Stay out of her way."
"But she's my." Dawn began. Before she could even complete the sentence, Buffy came flying back down the stairs, knocking Dawn back to the landing and pinning her to the wall.
"Where are my babies?" Buffy hissed, her hand closing down on Dawn's neck.
Tears welled up in the younger girl's eyes. "I.I don't know, Buffy. No one told us." She swallowed hard, taking in the empty glint of her sister's golden eyes and the etched grimace lining her face.
"You're lying," Buffy roared, slamming Dawn back into the wall.
"Buffy, stop," Tara said firmly from her place next to the couch. Buffy turned her attention to the Witch, letting her hand drop from her sister's neck. She began towards Tara, an evil little grin playing across her blood red lips.
"Excuse me?" Buffy said, coming closer. Tara backed up a step, but stood tall. "Or maybe *you* know where my spawn are?"
Tara cringed, knowing that Buffy would never refer to her children in such a way. She was gone, or buried so deep under the demon that she couldn't fight back. "I don't know, Buffy," the Witch answered.
"Sure you don't," Buffy sing-songed as she moved closer. Out of the corner of her eye, Tara could see Willow move into the opening between the kitchen and the living room.
"I. I don't," Tara repeated. "Spike sent them somewhere safe. He was right to, Buffy. You'll know that when."
Buffy lashed out, swinging, but stopped right before making contact with Tara's face. Willow's hand was stretched towards them, pushing her power against Buffy's arm. Buffy looked back at the redhead over her shoulder, debating whether or not to attack or to flee. Something... something inside of her told her that there were more important things. Places to go. Babies to see.
The Slayer hissed at Willow and dropped her arm. Before Willow could react, Buffy fled out the door, instinctively following the scent of her children.
Not to mention the convenient glittering road map.
To be contd.
Wow, hectic week at Chez Nim. I am barely eking these out. Not because I am out of ideas, but because I'm out of time! I have this all sorted in my head and have to get it down on paper to share. Not to mention I *still* owe Crystal what is now a half written piece of yumminess for her birthday. Poor girl. She's got to be bored playing with her Spike!Bot by now. (yeah, right).
Well, one of my betas just sent one word back with this chapter. Unsettling. That, I'm afraid, it is. But I will right it before all is said and done. I would not call this angsty, but unexpected and disturbing it will be. Hang on and have faith. All will be well.
Let me know what you think!
*Cheery Vibes*, Nimue
"As sick as it sounds, in my little head, there's a little Sunnydale, and a widdle Spike and a widdle Buffy and Spike wubs Buffy." James Marsters 14 July 2002
Title: Autumn into Summer (Chapter Thirty of The One)
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 . Also, please visit the wonderful fan listing that Rachel put together. Sign up today and link to your website (or just sign up to say hi!). The fan listing can be found at .
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: Spike battles the demon in Buffy. Giles pleads with Cyrus for his help to save the Pawn. Xander and Oz go off to follow the trail and hopefully protect the kids. Buffy manages to get to the house and realizes that something very important is missing.
Autumn into Summer
Spike lay on the ground, stunned. His eyes swimming from the force of the blow. His mind reeling from what he thought was about to happen. Buffy. His girl. The only thing she now recognized about him was that he was her match in battle. Her most worthy adversary.
Her foe.
Buffy grinned down at him, hopping to her feet in a feral, catlike motion. Spike had only a split second to come to his senses and roll hard right before she pounced, missing him by centimeters. As she scrambled towards him, he pushed the thoughts of caressing her, kissing her, loving her, into the back of his mind and let the annoying little light inside of him bubble to the surface. Even then, he knew he couldn't kill her. But he'd have to fight. He'd have to fight her as he had when they'd met. One on one.
Spike desperately wanted to know that they'd still never find out who would win in the end. That particular question never need be answered. But he knew that if it came down to it, as always, she'd be the victor. He just didn't have it in him to draw their last breath.
Buffy's eyes glittered yellow as she hopped again to her feet, stalking towards him, her stance not so much the perfect, balanced form of the Slayer, but rather the primal, tight muscled motion of a predator about to strike. He spread his feet, bracing himself and took a breath, never letting his eyes leave hers. Willing her back.
"Shall we?" Buffy grinned, her eyeteeth now extended to her bottom lip. Her face contorted into a grimace not far from Spike's game face.
"Buffy," Spike whispered. "Please."
"She's not home," the voice in her body hissed, the grin spreading. "But I am."
"And I will bloody well beat you out of her if I have to," Spike snarled, positioning himself for defense.
"You can try," she answered. Before he could form another word, she hurtled through the air, covering the distance between them in less than a second, her foot catching his shoulder and sending him reeling into the mausoleum. He countered, grabbing her leg as she landed and twisting hard, using her momentum to toss her to the ground.
The smile on her face widened as she kipped up to meet him, spinning and throwing a perfect reverse roundhouse to his gut, catching his arm as he threw a fist and slamming it back to his side, landing a left hook, all in one movement. Spike's hand came to his face, feeling the blood trickle from his mouth and down at her. Her eyes glittered and her nose twitched, smelling him. Tasting his blood on the air.
"You can't have her," Spike snarled, stopping her next barrage and squeezing her hand until it nearly broke under his grip and she relented.
"But yet, I do," she answered, giggling and tearing free of his hold. The demon had taken over completely. He had to get her to fight it. Had to get her back to the surface. Had to stop her from pounding him into oblivion before hand.
She raised an eyebrow and launched again, landing another kick to his gut. He went with the flow of the kick, hurtling into a perfect back flip and landing a safe distance back from her. To the casual observer, it must have looked like Cirque du Soleil met Smackdown.
"Buffy, you've got to fight it," Spike pleaded, trying to catch her gaze.
She stopped for a second, looking at him questioningly. Intently. Almost as if she was listening. He took that as a good sign. "Pet, it's me. Don't want to fight you. Don't want to hurt you."
At that, she laughed, the sound crisp and clear in the night air. Her eyes met his again. "Now that's funny," the voice said. It was barely hers anymore. "Almost had me there for a second. But then. you hurt me. Spike, you're just full of the funnies, aren't ya?"
He took another step back. She took one closer. He didn't want to hurt her. Didn't want to have to fight her in earnest. Didn't want to break and batter the body he'd loved for so long. Needed to be whole for when it was hers again. Didn't need to have bruises and scars made by him. They had enough scars. "Buffy, Love, please."
"Enough talking, "she whined, stepping closer again. "Can't we just fight?"
"Don't want to, Pet. Not this way." Truth be told, they fought all the time. But they never went out to hurt each other. Not anymore. They just sparred like bear cubs until they either got tired out or shagged away the rest of their energy. That wasn't what this was. She wanted to take him.
She wanted the question answered.
"Well, I wanna," Buffy answered. "So, either fight back, or hand me your stake and we'll put you out of your misery."
It wasn't her. He knew it wasn't, but it stung all the same. For a moment, he faltered, letting his eyes drop from hers and she took the opening and attacked. Fists flew, striking him in a flurry of impacts as she punched and kicked and snarled. Spike only defended at first, blocking what he could from landing, but finally realized that the only way that he might have a chance at breaking through to his Buffy was wearing down the demon. The muscles in his jaw clenched and he began to fight back.
Blows rained down, both of them moving so fast, still drawing from the One, that it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. Whose fist had made contact with whose purpling flesh. The dance was off and the battle on as he swaggered between kicks and they tossed insults that they hadn't used since they had been true enemies. She took every advantage, the rules of engagement no longer in effect and low blows and even lower words the fair of the night.
Until finally, in a stroke of complete luck, he had her pinned to the ground, his knees holding her legs, his hands gripping her arms.
"Buffy," he panted; staring down at her flushed and battered face. Even still, he'd left only red marks, pulling some of the force before he'd struck. He could feel blood trickling from wounds above his eye and below his cheek. "Buffy, listen to me."
Her jaw clenched and her body struggled for a moment, until finally, her eyes fluttered up to meet his. "What?" She hissed. "Just kill me and be done with it. Don't get all taunty on me now."
Spike softened, trying to reach inside her mind and pull her to the surface. Push the demon back for her, but it was too strong. Still, he could feel her, just behind those yellow eyes. Maybe he could get to her. "Pet, I won't kill you. I'd die first. You know that."
"Your loss," she answered tritely.
"Yes," Spike answered. "Got a lot to live for, I have."
The yellow eyes stilled, staring up at his. She was silent, but Spike could feel her struggling just behind the demon. Pushing towards him.
"Need you back, Buffy. Gotta fight the demon so we can set things right. I love you, Pet." Spike leaned his face towards hers until his lips were just a hair's breadth from hers. "I love you, always."
"Everyday," a very small, desperate, voice whispered underneath of him.
His eyes drifted to hers, seeing glimmers of green emerging in the gold as if autumn was trying to change back to summer in her eyes. "I love you, Pet," he repeated. "Need you. Emma and Will need you."
"My babies," the small voice answered, still struggling.
"They're safe," Spike answered, nuzzling her cheek gently. "Got them somewhere safe." His grip on her arms released just a fraction and he realized at the last moment, that that error had been critical.
"You took my babies," the hissing voice said, flipping them over until she was on top of him. "And I wanted something tender tonight," she whined. Spike struggled to flip them back but the next, and the last, thing he felt was her fist make contact with his temple and the world shift to black.
~~~~~~
Cyrus sat stiffly in his armchair, listening to Giles get him up to speed on their plight. He had spent the last evening on a marathon conference call with Council headquarters in London and was operating on no sleep while trying to absorb what had become a grievous situation.
"Can you help?" Giles asked nervously, watching Cyrus's exhausted eyes blink back at him.
Cyrus tried to focus, sorting through the barrage of words that had just been thrown his way. "Buffy's mother is the pawn. Draconius stole her from Heaven. If any of us deactivate the pawn by destroying the amulet, then Buffy's mother is returned not to Heaven but to Draconius to do with her as he sees fit. However, if we do not deactivate the pawn, then the One remains imbalanced and the Slayer will become more and more Vampiric, while the Vampire becomes more like the Slayer. Have I followed?"
Giles quirked a brow. "You all right, Cyrus?"
The Immortal raised his hand to his forehead, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "I'm just quite tired. Council quarterly meeting and."
Giles winced, forgetting that he probably should have attended the teleconference as well. As if reading his mind, Cyrus spoke, "But I did inform the others that you were quite busy with the Slayer."
"Thank you," Giles answered, slipping off his glasses and rubbing them on his shirttail. "Do you think, well, with your connections.?" Giles' head rolled towards the ceiling as if he could picture Heaven in the stucco above.
Cyrus sighed deeply. "You want me to go back. Talk to them." It was a statement of fact rather than a question. Really, they hadn't any choice. Traveling from mortal to non-mortal dimensions was never safe or easy, however, as an Immortal and an emissary to a queen, Cyrus could move quickly and directly to the source.
"Yes, yes," Giles answered, nodding shyly. "It is quite important. And Emma isn't quite old enough yet to debrief in regards to the mission."
Cyrus sighed again, standing up and rolling his shoulders, stretching. "I don't suppose that this is something I could do after a good night's rest, is it?"
Giles smiled, knowing that his colleague would do whatever it took, whenever he had to, to protect Emma and her family. "No, I'm afraid that the situation has become quite dire."
"Right then," Cyrus agreed, nodding quickly. "Guess I'll be off."
Giles looked at his knees, then back up at the Immortal. "Cyrus, may I ask where you. I mean. How do you travel to.?"
"Oh, it's quite elaborate with portals and spells and chanting and all sorts of buggery," the Immortal chattered, all the while his very being fading into nothingness. "It takes all sorts of knowledge and bushelfuls of herbs and candles and."
With that, Cyrus disappeared in front of Giles' amused eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~
Xander drove slowly down the street, a cell phone held to one ear. "Yeah, we're on the Bi-Coastal heading out of town towards the water. Yeah. Wait, let me ask, Oz?"
Oz pulled his head in from the window, his nose still twitching from scenting the air. Xander had to laugh. "What?"
The giggling died down. "What with the van and the sniffing and the. Bad Scooby Doo flashbacks."
The wolf smirked and stuck his head back out the window, sniffing again. "It's going straight towards the water, man."
Xander pulled the phone back to his ear. "Wolfman says that the trail is heading towards the water. Yeah. How's it going with the sparkliage? Might help out if we can follow the trail of magical glittering breadcrumbs."
"My sniffer's getting beat," Oz joked, shaking his head in the breeze. Xander laughed again despite himself.
"Right. Okay," Xander continued into the cell phone. "Ooh, almost done. Firework time? Oz, get your head in the window, man."
The werewolf pulled his head in the window just as the air began to crackle and the trail lit up like sparklers on the fourth of July. "Now *that's* what I'm talking about," Oz grinned, nodding.
"Looking good, Will," Xander commented, picking up speed and following the winding road towards the water. "We have lift off. Or at least shiny sparkly stuff. Thanks. Yeah. Spike and Buffy been back yet? Hope she's okay. I'd stick to telling Spike. No way to know how she'll react. Okay. Yeah. We'll let you know where we end up. "
With that, Xander hung up the phone and followed the silvery trail.
~~~~~~~
Buffy's legs pounded against the pavement towards the house on Revello. Both she and the demon were desperate to get there. To find out.
The demon wanted to punish her by harming her babies.
Buffy was torn between wanting to know they were safe at home and wanting them to be safe somewhere else.
Her heart beat against her chest at a frantic pace, her legs pumping at supernatural speed, racing down the road towards the house. Following the familiar, worn trail down the grass across the street, skirting onto the sidewalk and bounding up the front steps. Before she even thought about it, the door was off its hinges and she flew past Tara and Dawn in the living room and up the stairs.
"Buffy?" Dawn called, walking to the bottom of the stairs and taking the first step.
"Dawn, I don't know if you should follow her. I mean, she may not be herself," Tara warned, standing up. Dawn paused, craning her head behind her and waiting.
"Where's Spike?"
Tara furrowed a brow. "He's not behind her?"
Dawn could see clearly out to the street. She shook her head at the Witch. "I don't see him."
A flash of terror crawled up Tara's spine as she pictured the wound in Spike's neck. Buffy was only getting worse. Something was very wrong. "Dawn, don't go up there. Stay out of her way."
"But she's my." Dawn began. Before she could even complete the sentence, Buffy came flying back down the stairs, knocking Dawn back to the landing and pinning her to the wall.
"Where are my babies?" Buffy hissed, her hand closing down on Dawn's neck.
Tears welled up in the younger girl's eyes. "I.I don't know, Buffy. No one told us." She swallowed hard, taking in the empty glint of her sister's golden eyes and the etched grimace lining her face.
"You're lying," Buffy roared, slamming Dawn back into the wall.
"Buffy, stop," Tara said firmly from her place next to the couch. Buffy turned her attention to the Witch, letting her hand drop from her sister's neck. She began towards Tara, an evil little grin playing across her blood red lips.
"Excuse me?" Buffy said, coming closer. Tara backed up a step, but stood tall. "Or maybe *you* know where my spawn are?"
Tara cringed, knowing that Buffy would never refer to her children in such a way. She was gone, or buried so deep under the demon that she couldn't fight back. "I don't know, Buffy," the Witch answered.
"Sure you don't," Buffy sing-songed as she moved closer. Out of the corner of her eye, Tara could see Willow move into the opening between the kitchen and the living room.
"I. I don't," Tara repeated. "Spike sent them somewhere safe. He was right to, Buffy. You'll know that when."
Buffy lashed out, swinging, but stopped right before making contact with Tara's face. Willow's hand was stretched towards them, pushing her power against Buffy's arm. Buffy looked back at the redhead over her shoulder, debating whether or not to attack or to flee. Something... something inside of her told her that there were more important things. Places to go. Babies to see.
The Slayer hissed at Willow and dropped her arm. Before Willow could react, Buffy fled out the door, instinctively following the scent of her children.
Not to mention the convenient glittering road map.
To be contd.