Good evening, All,
Howdy!
I go another one out on schedule. Miracle of miracles. Thanks to my wonderful betas that are quick turn around artists. I hope to have the next chapter out on Wednesday. There will be 4 chapters out after this one, and then the story is over. One of those will be NC and not posted on ff.net, so be looking for an Always announcement for a sign up list.
Well, enjoy the chapter. Little more drama and then happy ending, here we come! .
*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: Dichotomies (Chapter Thirty-three 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 at 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!).
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: Anya suffers the repercussions of refusing to grant the Vengeance wish. Spike is hot on the trail of the demon-controlled Buffy, but something stops him along the way. The fate of the other men trying to save the children is revealed. Cyrus petitions the Sky Queen for her help. And Buffy finds her way to the kids. What will happen now?
~~~~~
"I cannot grant your wish."
Anya closed her eyes as she said it, waiting. Searching. Trying to figure out what the hell else to do. She was between Joyce and the children. Probably stronger that the Pawn but there was no way to know.
But she'd just betrayed her duty. Just betrayed D'Hoffryn. Who had saved her life. More than once.
Some little part inside of her prayed for mercy.
The rest prayed that Rupert would be okay with Randy all alone.
It was silent way too long, and then she felt it like a cold wind brushing against the back of her neck. The feeling of a portal opening and the outside coming in. Of her fate catching up to her.
Slowly, Anya opened her eyes.
D'Hoffryn looked down on her still with such kindness. And such utter disappointment. "Anyanka, this . woman. has a valid Vengeance claim."
Anya shook like a child being scolded. "I. D'Hoffryn, I can't."
The elder demon shook his head. "You know the price, Anyanka."
Her eyes pleaded with him. "D'Hoffryn, it's not *her* making the claim. She's being controlled. They want the babies, D'Hoffryn. I know that Vengeance is the only thing that we concern ourselves with, but those kids. they didn't do anything."
"It is not ours to judge, Anyanka," D'Hoffryn answered, softening at his teary eyed charge. "We do not get to choose the wishes we grant and those we do not. If the voice came from the body, if it is her voice, her claim, we cannot deny it."
Tears broke in Anya's eyes. She shook her head. "D'Hoffryn, no. They're kids."
"The girl is The Peacemaker, Anyanka, she is no child," he answered, trying to make it right. Even now, in the face of utter duty, he had a soft spot for Anya. He always would.
"She is here," Anya answered quietly. "She's five and she's Spike and Buffy's and she didn't do anything wrong."
D'Hoffryn stared at his student a moment, watching her melt. Anyanka had been a good Vengeance demon. Before the soul, she had been vicious and efficient and creative. A joy to watch. Since, she had had a softer touch, but she could still do more harm with eternal paper cuts and penis downsizing than any other demon he had under his employ.
But the woman in the white dress had made a request for Vengeance. They were bound.
He took a deep breath, watching Anya's shoulders tense and wishing for just one moment that he could be to her what the Englishman was to the Slayer. That he could melt and bend to her whims and be a part of her life. But their business was Vengeance. Their family was revenge.
"I'm sorry, Anyanka. She has made a claim. If you do not grant the wish, I will have to and I will have to. punish you. You know that there are prices," he counseled, his heart not in it, but his mind set.
Anya nodded, silvery tears streaming down her cheeks. "I understand."
"And you still wish to deny this woman's claim of Vengeance?"
Anya paused, glancing over her shoulder to the bedroom. She could see Will's little blonde head peeking around the corner, eyes full of fear and regret. No one that little should feel that much. "I do," Anya answered, turning back towards her mentor and gesturing behind her back for Will to go back into the room.
She closed her eyes. Waited.
"So be it," D'Hoffryn said. "I will exact your punishment after the wish. Until that time, you will be prevented from interfering."
Her eyes blinked open, startled. She wasn't going to die just yet. Anya's body tensed to dart for the kids, but before she could move, D'Hoffryn snapped his fingers and she was frozen in place. Silent. Fear splashed across her features, caught helplessly between the Pawn and the kids.
The elder demon looked at her one last time and then turned his attention to the woman in the white dress. "Can you please repeat your wish to me?"
~~~~~
The motorcycle slid around the curves in the road like liquid mercury, its rider leaning fluidly through every turn. He knew he had to be going over a hundred miles an hour. Far too fast for the road. But this was far too important to play captain safe driver.
How the hell had he driven with two car seats in the back of an SUV going thirty two in a thirty?
He loved them. Simple.
The smell of burned rubber and the acrid aroma of something more primal made him slow a bit as he rounded a particularly nasty turn in the road. Spike's eyes scanned the tracks as he rode, watching the black marks go from straight to right to disappearing over the edge. Fresh tracks.
Something clicked in his head. The Witches two had sent the boys on the trail.
As soon as the thought occurred to him, he slowed more and glanced down the cliff. Perched precariously against the trunk of the only large tree growing miraculously from the rocks, was a van. An ugly, old van that Spike had seen just before they left on patrol. Parked in front of their house.
The part of him that was still Spike and that remembered the selfish bits of the demon that had inhabited him for so long tried to speed off, ignoring the tangle of metal and wood and the permeating smell of blood.
The part of him that was the One, that was the lover and best friend to his ideal woman and the father of her two kids, and the light burning inside of him that was Buffy, made him pull the bike to a halt.
He didn't have time for a full blown rescue. Had to get to Buffy. Had to get to the tots. But he could at least see what he could do. Grab the phone. Call for help. See if there was anything left to help.
Spike leaned the bike against an outcropping of rock and began to pick his way quickly down the hill. Lucky for him, being both Slayer and Vampire at the moment, he had the ability to navigate like a mountain goat with stellar night vision. It took less than a minute to get forty feet down to the remains of the overturned van.
He crouched by the passenger side window, looking in and poking his arm through the broken glass. "Anyone in there? You still with us, Mates?"
"Spike?" A dazed voice answered. Something very basic in Spike suddenly relaxed.
"That you, wolf?"
A groan followed. "Yeah," the voice finally answered.
"You all right?"
"Um," Oz began, trying to move. "Think I'm in one piece. Kind of. ow."
Spike smiled despite himself, until the thought of that annoying git began to gnaw away at his conscious. "Harris okay?"
The Vampire heard Oz move around a moment, and then wiggle out the broken side window. Covered in blood, but seemingly in tact, the Wolf moved next to Spike and then lay down, inching his way back into the vehicle. Spike scooted back to let Oz work.
"He has a pulse," Oz began, pulling back out. "But he's covered in blood." The Werewolf's usually laid back voice was tinged with panic. Fear.
Spike nodded. "You have the phone?"
Oz stuck his head back in the window, reaching around until he felt the phone against the roof of the van, which was now the part closest to the ground. He opened the flip and it thankfully glowed. "Works."
"Can you call for help?" Spike asked, looking nervously back up to the road. "I."
"She stopped here." Oz nodded solemnly, watching Spike's face. "About ten minutes back. Sniffed around and took off."
Something welled in Spike. Terror? Anger? All of the above? "I need to get to her, mate."
Oz nodded again. "Go, man. I'll get an ambulance."
The Vampire nodded, sticking his head in the window. He could see Harris clearly, still belted in his seat, but out cold, his head covered in glass and blood. Still, his breaths came in slow, even draws. Might make it through another year after all. "You stay alive, you stupid git," Spike hissed, slapping Xander gently on the shoulder. "Buffy'd kill me if I let you die."
Oz pulled Spike from the window, watching the fear and sorrow play across the Vampire's features. He liked Xander. More than he would admit. They were friends. Oz knew that he would never just leave them like this, even before he got all Slayered up. But now was not the time to wax sentimental about your buddies. "You need to get her, man," Oz encouraged. "She's. man, she's gone in there. Kids aren't safe."
Spike shook his head to clear the haze and nodded quickly. "Get the whelp an ambulance right quick and make sure you're in working order."
Oz smiled. "We're cool. Go get Buffy back."
Before the Werewolf could even register movement, Spike was halfway back up the hill to the motorcycle.
~~~~~
"That is *very* serious," The Queen agreed, watching Cyrus pace in front of the roses in her garden. It was rare that her emissary ever showed this much fear or impatience. He'd always been the epitome of calm.
"Quite," he agreed, nodding quickly. "In order to save Emma, we must deactivate the Pawn and regain the balance of the One. If we do not, then Draconius will have wrested control of the Peacemaker and."
"Calm," the Sky Queen commanded, her voice firm, but her features soft and smiling. "Cyrus, you do not have to be so unnerved when requesting our aide."
Cyrus stopped mid stride and looked at his Queen. She had always been pleasant and fair to him, but never had she treated him with so much. respect? Equality? Usually, the whims of the Court were duty. Formality a necessity. Politics a must. Involuntarily, he quirked an eyebrow at his Queen, causing her beautiful laughter to spread through the air like wind.
"My Queen?"
"Cyrus," she sighed, regaining control of her laughter. She took his arm and led him to a white granite bench, polished to a gleaming, perfect white, and lowered herself to the stone. He sat next to her, letting her rest her hand upon his knee. "You have been a gallant warrior and a faithful emissary. You know that?"
Cyrus nodded, not sure if he felt that strongly about his service to the Queen of the Sky, but he had tried.
"You have," she confirmed, her sweet voice so soothing against his frightened soul.
"Thank you," he answered, bowing his head.
The Queen smiled her radiant smile. "It is because of your exceptional service that I have entrusted you with our most valued asset. The Peacemaker is our future and our past and every moment in between. She is our child and our mother. Without her, the One cannot withstand the forces of darkness eternally."
Again, Cyrus nodded. "I understand her importance to the mission."
The Queen shook her head, correcting her servant. "It is not her importance to the mission that you need to protect. She *is* the mission. She is the omega, Cyrus and she will right the World all on her own. "
The Watcher looked at the Queen, confusion passing over his handsome, understated features. "I am not sure I..."
"You have been charged to teach her. To guide her in her growth as a human. Something that we could never do as we have never been mortal. The One has been charged to protect her. To love her. To grant her the respite of support and personal peace and familial love. Her mission will take care of itself. You must guide her and they must protect her and you all must love her as she does not understand fully what and who she is. She is older than time and five human years. There is no greater dichotomy of existence," the Sky Queen continued.
Cyrus chuckled. "You've never seen her father make breakfast while wearing a leather coat, carrying a child on his back and polishing a sword simultaneously."
Again, the Queen laughed. "We do have a sense of humour, you know."
A smile broke on the Watcher's face. "But you did so well for her, if I may comment." The Queen nodded. Cyrus continued. "The concept of Vampire and Slayer being reunited. there was no one who believed that the Union of the One was real, much less magical, much less so incredibly. natural. They're so. normal, in human terms."
"Dichotomies," the Queen replied, smiling again. "It is a feat to face one's darkness and one's light and still be able to reconcile them in your heart. Even more of an accomplishment to reconcile your heart with another. The Vampire's love for his Slayer, his heart, her soul. That is the balance."
Cyrus nodded. "Will you help them? Help us?"
The Queen looked up towards the sky. It had never occurred to Cyrus that even the Sky dimension had a sky. Was that normal? Her perfect blue eyes fluttered down to his, enrapturing them. Making him calm and sure. "It is the least I can do for those I entrust with my most precious of children."
~~~~~
Buffy could see the trail fade down a little incline into the woods. The smell of the children, her flesh and blood, was stronger than ever. A wicked smile crossed Buffy's face as the demon finally found its treasure chest in a small, pretty cottage in the tree line just above the sand of the coast.
She slowed her run to a walk and savoured the smells of the ocean and the trees and the cool wind against her skin. The wind that brought the scent of those little brats that the real Buffy cherished so much. Stupid little humans. Angelus had it right. The babies made for a tasty treat.
Even better, the demon knew that Buffy would never come back from this. She was just below the surface now. Pushing. Trying to figure out how to fight the bloodlust and drive the demon into hiding like her traitorous lover had done for so many long years. He'd done it from the start. It wouldn't take her much longer either. She'd either figure it out on her own or that sentimental sap of a mate would draw her out until the demon had to recede or return to Spike.
Bugger that.
If the demon could kill Buffy's children with her hands and her mouth, she would never come back. And the Vampire would never look at her again with those smitten, pansy, hopeless eyes. He'd see her for the demon. His demon. And it would kill them both.
The smile on Buffy's face widened as she crept around the side of the house, hearing low voices inside the walls of the cottage. Shadows danced in the light spilling from the front door of the house, so she worked her way silently to the rear, listening to the voices. Smelling the scents. Reveling in the torment. Pushing down the girl inside that was struggling desperately to take her body back and save what was hers.
Nu unh unh, the demon thought. Bad little Slayer. A surge of power pushed her back.
The back door swung open in the breeze, waving at her. Welcoming her.
A purr of an engine far in the distance made her ponder her time frame a moment. What the hell? An audience might be fun.
Slowly, silently, Buffy crept into the house.
To be contd.
Howdy!
I go another one out on schedule. Miracle of miracles. Thanks to my wonderful betas that are quick turn around artists. I hope to have the next chapter out on Wednesday. There will be 4 chapters out after this one, and then the story is over. One of those will be NC and not posted on ff.net, so be looking for an Always announcement for a sign up list.
Well, enjoy the chapter. Little more drama and then happy ending, here we come! .
*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: Dichotomies (Chapter Thirty-three 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 at 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!).
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: Anya suffers the repercussions of refusing to grant the Vengeance wish. Spike is hot on the trail of the demon-controlled Buffy, but something stops him along the way. The fate of the other men trying to save the children is revealed. Cyrus petitions the Sky Queen for her help. And Buffy finds her way to the kids. What will happen now?
~~~~~
"I cannot grant your wish."
Anya closed her eyes as she said it, waiting. Searching. Trying to figure out what the hell else to do. She was between Joyce and the children. Probably stronger that the Pawn but there was no way to know.
But she'd just betrayed her duty. Just betrayed D'Hoffryn. Who had saved her life. More than once.
Some little part inside of her prayed for mercy.
The rest prayed that Rupert would be okay with Randy all alone.
It was silent way too long, and then she felt it like a cold wind brushing against the back of her neck. The feeling of a portal opening and the outside coming in. Of her fate catching up to her.
Slowly, Anya opened her eyes.
D'Hoffryn looked down on her still with such kindness. And such utter disappointment. "Anyanka, this . woman. has a valid Vengeance claim."
Anya shook like a child being scolded. "I. D'Hoffryn, I can't."
The elder demon shook his head. "You know the price, Anyanka."
Her eyes pleaded with him. "D'Hoffryn, it's not *her* making the claim. She's being controlled. They want the babies, D'Hoffryn. I know that Vengeance is the only thing that we concern ourselves with, but those kids. they didn't do anything."
"It is not ours to judge, Anyanka," D'Hoffryn answered, softening at his teary eyed charge. "We do not get to choose the wishes we grant and those we do not. If the voice came from the body, if it is her voice, her claim, we cannot deny it."
Tears broke in Anya's eyes. She shook her head. "D'Hoffryn, no. They're kids."
"The girl is The Peacemaker, Anyanka, she is no child," he answered, trying to make it right. Even now, in the face of utter duty, he had a soft spot for Anya. He always would.
"She is here," Anya answered quietly. "She's five and she's Spike and Buffy's and she didn't do anything wrong."
D'Hoffryn stared at his student a moment, watching her melt. Anyanka had been a good Vengeance demon. Before the soul, she had been vicious and efficient and creative. A joy to watch. Since, she had had a softer touch, but she could still do more harm with eternal paper cuts and penis downsizing than any other demon he had under his employ.
But the woman in the white dress had made a request for Vengeance. They were bound.
He took a deep breath, watching Anya's shoulders tense and wishing for just one moment that he could be to her what the Englishman was to the Slayer. That he could melt and bend to her whims and be a part of her life. But their business was Vengeance. Their family was revenge.
"I'm sorry, Anyanka. She has made a claim. If you do not grant the wish, I will have to and I will have to. punish you. You know that there are prices," he counseled, his heart not in it, but his mind set.
Anya nodded, silvery tears streaming down her cheeks. "I understand."
"And you still wish to deny this woman's claim of Vengeance?"
Anya paused, glancing over her shoulder to the bedroom. She could see Will's little blonde head peeking around the corner, eyes full of fear and regret. No one that little should feel that much. "I do," Anya answered, turning back towards her mentor and gesturing behind her back for Will to go back into the room.
She closed her eyes. Waited.
"So be it," D'Hoffryn said. "I will exact your punishment after the wish. Until that time, you will be prevented from interfering."
Her eyes blinked open, startled. She wasn't going to die just yet. Anya's body tensed to dart for the kids, but before she could move, D'Hoffryn snapped his fingers and she was frozen in place. Silent. Fear splashed across her features, caught helplessly between the Pawn and the kids.
The elder demon looked at her one last time and then turned his attention to the woman in the white dress. "Can you please repeat your wish to me?"
~~~~~
The motorcycle slid around the curves in the road like liquid mercury, its rider leaning fluidly through every turn. He knew he had to be going over a hundred miles an hour. Far too fast for the road. But this was far too important to play captain safe driver.
How the hell had he driven with two car seats in the back of an SUV going thirty two in a thirty?
He loved them. Simple.
The smell of burned rubber and the acrid aroma of something more primal made him slow a bit as he rounded a particularly nasty turn in the road. Spike's eyes scanned the tracks as he rode, watching the black marks go from straight to right to disappearing over the edge. Fresh tracks.
Something clicked in his head. The Witches two had sent the boys on the trail.
As soon as the thought occurred to him, he slowed more and glanced down the cliff. Perched precariously against the trunk of the only large tree growing miraculously from the rocks, was a van. An ugly, old van that Spike had seen just before they left on patrol. Parked in front of their house.
The part of him that was still Spike and that remembered the selfish bits of the demon that had inhabited him for so long tried to speed off, ignoring the tangle of metal and wood and the permeating smell of blood.
The part of him that was the One, that was the lover and best friend to his ideal woman and the father of her two kids, and the light burning inside of him that was Buffy, made him pull the bike to a halt.
He didn't have time for a full blown rescue. Had to get to Buffy. Had to get to the tots. But he could at least see what he could do. Grab the phone. Call for help. See if there was anything left to help.
Spike leaned the bike against an outcropping of rock and began to pick his way quickly down the hill. Lucky for him, being both Slayer and Vampire at the moment, he had the ability to navigate like a mountain goat with stellar night vision. It took less than a minute to get forty feet down to the remains of the overturned van.
He crouched by the passenger side window, looking in and poking his arm through the broken glass. "Anyone in there? You still with us, Mates?"
"Spike?" A dazed voice answered. Something very basic in Spike suddenly relaxed.
"That you, wolf?"
A groan followed. "Yeah," the voice finally answered.
"You all right?"
"Um," Oz began, trying to move. "Think I'm in one piece. Kind of. ow."
Spike smiled despite himself, until the thought of that annoying git began to gnaw away at his conscious. "Harris okay?"
The Vampire heard Oz move around a moment, and then wiggle out the broken side window. Covered in blood, but seemingly in tact, the Wolf moved next to Spike and then lay down, inching his way back into the vehicle. Spike scooted back to let Oz work.
"He has a pulse," Oz began, pulling back out. "But he's covered in blood." The Werewolf's usually laid back voice was tinged with panic. Fear.
Spike nodded. "You have the phone?"
Oz stuck his head back in the window, reaching around until he felt the phone against the roof of the van, which was now the part closest to the ground. He opened the flip and it thankfully glowed. "Works."
"Can you call for help?" Spike asked, looking nervously back up to the road. "I."
"She stopped here." Oz nodded solemnly, watching Spike's face. "About ten minutes back. Sniffed around and took off."
Something welled in Spike. Terror? Anger? All of the above? "I need to get to her, mate."
Oz nodded again. "Go, man. I'll get an ambulance."
The Vampire nodded, sticking his head in the window. He could see Harris clearly, still belted in his seat, but out cold, his head covered in glass and blood. Still, his breaths came in slow, even draws. Might make it through another year after all. "You stay alive, you stupid git," Spike hissed, slapping Xander gently on the shoulder. "Buffy'd kill me if I let you die."
Oz pulled Spike from the window, watching the fear and sorrow play across the Vampire's features. He liked Xander. More than he would admit. They were friends. Oz knew that he would never just leave them like this, even before he got all Slayered up. But now was not the time to wax sentimental about your buddies. "You need to get her, man," Oz encouraged. "She's. man, she's gone in there. Kids aren't safe."
Spike shook his head to clear the haze and nodded quickly. "Get the whelp an ambulance right quick and make sure you're in working order."
Oz smiled. "We're cool. Go get Buffy back."
Before the Werewolf could even register movement, Spike was halfway back up the hill to the motorcycle.
~~~~~
"That is *very* serious," The Queen agreed, watching Cyrus pace in front of the roses in her garden. It was rare that her emissary ever showed this much fear or impatience. He'd always been the epitome of calm.
"Quite," he agreed, nodding quickly. "In order to save Emma, we must deactivate the Pawn and regain the balance of the One. If we do not, then Draconius will have wrested control of the Peacemaker and."
"Calm," the Sky Queen commanded, her voice firm, but her features soft and smiling. "Cyrus, you do not have to be so unnerved when requesting our aide."
Cyrus stopped mid stride and looked at his Queen. She had always been pleasant and fair to him, but never had she treated him with so much. respect? Equality? Usually, the whims of the Court were duty. Formality a necessity. Politics a must. Involuntarily, he quirked an eyebrow at his Queen, causing her beautiful laughter to spread through the air like wind.
"My Queen?"
"Cyrus," she sighed, regaining control of her laughter. She took his arm and led him to a white granite bench, polished to a gleaming, perfect white, and lowered herself to the stone. He sat next to her, letting her rest her hand upon his knee. "You have been a gallant warrior and a faithful emissary. You know that?"
Cyrus nodded, not sure if he felt that strongly about his service to the Queen of the Sky, but he had tried.
"You have," she confirmed, her sweet voice so soothing against his frightened soul.
"Thank you," he answered, bowing his head.
The Queen smiled her radiant smile. "It is because of your exceptional service that I have entrusted you with our most valued asset. The Peacemaker is our future and our past and every moment in between. She is our child and our mother. Without her, the One cannot withstand the forces of darkness eternally."
Again, Cyrus nodded. "I understand her importance to the mission."
The Queen shook her head, correcting her servant. "It is not her importance to the mission that you need to protect. She *is* the mission. She is the omega, Cyrus and she will right the World all on her own. "
The Watcher looked at the Queen, confusion passing over his handsome, understated features. "I am not sure I..."
"You have been charged to teach her. To guide her in her growth as a human. Something that we could never do as we have never been mortal. The One has been charged to protect her. To love her. To grant her the respite of support and personal peace and familial love. Her mission will take care of itself. You must guide her and they must protect her and you all must love her as she does not understand fully what and who she is. She is older than time and five human years. There is no greater dichotomy of existence," the Sky Queen continued.
Cyrus chuckled. "You've never seen her father make breakfast while wearing a leather coat, carrying a child on his back and polishing a sword simultaneously."
Again, the Queen laughed. "We do have a sense of humour, you know."
A smile broke on the Watcher's face. "But you did so well for her, if I may comment." The Queen nodded. Cyrus continued. "The concept of Vampire and Slayer being reunited. there was no one who believed that the Union of the One was real, much less magical, much less so incredibly. natural. They're so. normal, in human terms."
"Dichotomies," the Queen replied, smiling again. "It is a feat to face one's darkness and one's light and still be able to reconcile them in your heart. Even more of an accomplishment to reconcile your heart with another. The Vampire's love for his Slayer, his heart, her soul. That is the balance."
Cyrus nodded. "Will you help them? Help us?"
The Queen looked up towards the sky. It had never occurred to Cyrus that even the Sky dimension had a sky. Was that normal? Her perfect blue eyes fluttered down to his, enrapturing them. Making him calm and sure. "It is the least I can do for those I entrust with my most precious of children."
~~~~~
Buffy could see the trail fade down a little incline into the woods. The smell of the children, her flesh and blood, was stronger than ever. A wicked smile crossed Buffy's face as the demon finally found its treasure chest in a small, pretty cottage in the tree line just above the sand of the coast.
She slowed her run to a walk and savoured the smells of the ocean and the trees and the cool wind against her skin. The wind that brought the scent of those little brats that the real Buffy cherished so much. Stupid little humans. Angelus had it right. The babies made for a tasty treat.
Even better, the demon knew that Buffy would never come back from this. She was just below the surface now. Pushing. Trying to figure out how to fight the bloodlust and drive the demon into hiding like her traitorous lover had done for so many long years. He'd done it from the start. It wouldn't take her much longer either. She'd either figure it out on her own or that sentimental sap of a mate would draw her out until the demon had to recede or return to Spike.
Bugger that.
If the demon could kill Buffy's children with her hands and her mouth, she would never come back. And the Vampire would never look at her again with those smitten, pansy, hopeless eyes. He'd see her for the demon. His demon. And it would kill them both.
The smile on Buffy's face widened as she crept around the side of the house, hearing low voices inside the walls of the cottage. Shadows danced in the light spilling from the front door of the house, so she worked her way silently to the rear, listening to the voices. Smelling the scents. Reveling in the torment. Pushing down the girl inside that was struggling desperately to take her body back and save what was hers.
Nu unh unh, the demon thought. Bad little Slayer. A surge of power pushed her back.
The back door swung open in the breeze, waving at her. Welcoming her.
A purr of an engine far in the distance made her ponder her time frame a moment. What the hell? An audience might be fun.
Slowly, silently, Buffy crept into the house.
To be contd.