Good evening, All,
Hi, there! Wow, another one on time. What next?
This chapter is a little longer than most. I hope you do not mind! I had a lot to cover. But the story is almost over. Maybe three more chapters so try and enjoy it!
As always, feedback fuels the muse, so let me know what you think. I appreciate all of the notes and reviews you write and will always try to write back.
Next chapter this weekend, if all goes well.
*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: Heart-Shaped Lock (Chapter Thirty-four 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: Spike arrives at the beach-side cottage just in time to see Buffy enter the house. Buffy finds the children and has to make a decision. D'Hoffryn grants the pawn's wish, but she is stopped by an unlikely hero. Spike gets to Buffy just in time to save his daughter and his love.
Heart-Shaped Lock
Spike pulled the motorcycle to the halt at the head of the driveway, cutting off the engine and coasting down the small inclined driveway to the cottage. His heart was pounding in his chest as he watched the shadows moving inside the brightly lit cabin and the sounds of voices lift into the chill night air.
As he rested the bike against a tree in the shadows near the house, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. A slight form, almost just a shadow of a person, creeping along the rear of the house and up through the open back door. The light from the inside of the house poured out and as the form reached the top step, the light filtered over, lighting golden hair and predatory grace in an almost ethereal glow.
Buffy.
Spike jogged down the last bit of the drive, not sure of what he had planned. Stop her. Save her. Make it right. Get my girl back. Get my tots. No real rhyme or reason but it was something. He'd always been pretty good at sorting out the battle while in the middle of fighting it.
He got to the back door in time to watch Buffy disappear around the corner of a small corridor to his right. There were voices coming from the front of the house. Where was Anya? Pony? The kids?
Best way to find out. Follow Buffy.
Buffy slid silently down the short corridor in the back of the house and turned the corner, following the scent of the children and the sounds of the voices. As she reached the bedroom area, she could see three forms up ahead of her in the front of the house, engrossed in some very serious conversation.
In front of her, a small blonde head peeked around the corner. One of the forms at the head of the hallway waved the little creature back into the room on her right, but instead, he had ducked across the hall into what seemed to be a closet.
Must be her son, the demon thought. Looks just like that traitorous Vampire.
Well, he wasn't the prize anyway. Pick him up on the way out. First things first. That tasty treat of a little girl with more power than anything else on the planet. The demon had long thought that there was nothing more potent than Slayer blood. It had a feeling it was about to find out differently.
Inside, Buffy, the real one, caught a glimpse of Will out of the corner of her eye and her soul screamed in agony, trying to push the demon away. It wasn't enough. She couldn't make it stop.
Make it stop.
"I wish that Buffy, that no one, can stop me from taking Emma," Joyce repeated to D'Hoffryn. Anya winced and mumbled in her frozen state, her eyes so large and pained, staring, pleading at her boss.
D'Hoffryn looked at Anya for a second, sadness in his eyes. He knew how much this life and these people had come to mean to her. But still, their job was their job. "Wish granted."
The Pawn didn't celebrate or do the Happy Snoopy Dance or even utter a 'Yay!', but rather dropped her head and turned around, sighing deeply. Not her wish, Anya thought. Not what she wants. How can we get her back before it's too late?
Spike slid down the corridor, staying close to the wall and hidden in the shadows from the bright lights in the front of the house. He followed Buffy's path down the hallway until he could see the figures speaking at the front end of the hall.
Willow had warned him, but nothing could prepare him for her. For Joyce standing there, breathing. Talking. Gesturing. Her kind face backlit by the living room lamps. Part of him broke, wanting to run, to help her, to make her all right too. To give her back to Buffy. The one thing he couldn't ever give her. Her mum.
He shook his head, trying to break the hold of his thoughts. Need to sort out Buffy first. Then we'll figure out what to do about Joyce. Spike dropped to a crouch near the door to a bedroom when movement to his left caught his attention.
Spike swiveled his head towards the motion and caught sight of Will across the hall, huddled on the floor of the closet, his broken arm around his knees, pulling them closer to his chest. The sight broke Spike's heart. The boy was terrified, shaking in the dark and staring directly at his father. Wanting help. Comfort.
Before the Vampire could creep closer to the boy, William shook his head. Spike stopped, staring at the big blue eyes for a moment. Again, Will shook his head and then pointed across the hall to the bedroom. "Mummy's got Emma," he whispered, barely loud enough for even the Vampire to hear. Spike nodded as the little boy waggled his finger towards the room again. "Save de giwls."
Spike had to smile, even for a moment. Poor sot, in for a lifetime of romantic ideals and certain heartbreak. But it had turned out all right for his dear old dad. Spike nodded again. "Stay put, Will. All right? "
Will nodded and watched as his father crept back across to the bedroom door.
Emma sat on the edge of the bed, her wide eyes staring down in the relative darkness at the slight, shadowy form that stood against the wall. She knew it wasn't her mother. Looked like mum. Smelled like mum. Wasn't.
"Come on, honey. I've come to take you home," the voice said. It was mum's voice, but empty.
Emma shook her head, not moving towards the figure, but not running away. "You're not my mum."
Buffy stepped into the moonlight so that the girl could see her more clearly. "Of course, I am dear."
The little girl shook her head. "You're not. You're wrong. I'm staying here with Aunt Anya until daddy comes to get me."
The demon chuckled. The tot had that much faith in her intuition and in her Vampire father that she wasn't even scared. Have to change that. "All right then. We'll just take care of this right here."
Buffy walked towards the bed with amazing quickness, pulling the little girl to the floor on her knees and dropping down behind her. "I'm not afraid of you," Emma whispered, as the thing behind her pulled her hair to the side to expose an expanse of soft neck.
"You should be," the feral voice replied.
Emma sighed, slumping. "My mummy won't let you. She's inside you. I can feel her. She will beat you."
The demon chuckled again. "Not doing a very good job so far."
The child paused, thinking. A thought came to her as she heard the sound of footsteps rounding the corner into the bedroom. "She loves me. Love wins."
The demon was quiet, struggling with the woman surging inside. Fighting pushing. Had to do this fast. "Not this time," it hissed, tightening the hold on the child.
Joyce began to walk solemnly down the hall towards the bedrooms. It was the end of the mission. All she had to do was walk in there, take the little girl and she could go home. Home free.
Why wasn't she glad?
Something in her head told her that she should be sad. Unhappy. That the mission was wrong and bad and .. A fog was lifting in her head as she walked.
Right as she came even with the little corridor to the bedrooms, movement to her right caught her eyes. Slowly, painfully, she swiveled her head and a little boy appeared in front of her. Standing in the middle of the corridor, blocking the way, one hand on his hip, the other dangling in a giant yellow cast to his side.
Joyce stared at the boy a moment. Blinked.
William stared back. Blinked.
Neither of them moved.
The Queen passed a hand in the air in front of herself and the Watcher. A sparkling tableau lay before them. A woman kneeling behind a child. A man running through a doorway, his mouth opening to speak. A little boy standing bravely in the center of a hallway staring. A confused, lost soul staring back.
"I believe it is time," the Queen stated calmly in stark contrast to the dry mouth and terrified heartbeat of her companion.
"Oh God," Cyrus muttered, watching the events play out.
She turned to look at him, an amused smile on her face. "Oh Goddess might be more appropriate here," she chided, passing her hand through the air once more.
"That of the Heavens, I reclaim to the Heavens. That of the Earth will remain on the Earth. Allow our soul to return to us." The Queen muttered something at the end that Cyrus could not make out. And then the pictures disappeared.
"Buffy, no!" Spike screamed, running through the doorway and sliding across the floor to a halt on his knees. Emma was facing him, eyes calm but with a tinge of fear. Buffy was behind her, just out of his reach. The little girl was sandwiched between her parents. Her father's eyes were wide and terrified, but something else was in there as well. Resolution?
Emma reached out her hand and touched her father's forearm. He calmed almost instantly, catching her blue eyes in his own. They were in this together. Together they could win.
"Buffy?" Spike whispered, trying to find her inside of those yellow, flashing eyes. "Love?"
"She's not home," Buffy's voice hissed, her eyes glimmering in the moonlight. Her mouth moved to her daughter's neck, barely touching. Spike's heart began to race again.
Emma took her father's hands in hers, calming him again, and pulled them behind her, onto Buffy's hips. The creature winced as if touched by fire. Emma nodded. Spike found his footing. "Buffy," he sighed calmly, finding her eyes again and searching. Finally, he closed his own and let his mind reach for her.
The little girl clung to him as he clung to Buffy, his mind bashing into every barrier behind those wicked eyes. Crushing the anger and the bloodlust and rage, hearing her crying, screaming out from underneath, pushing with all of her might to reach him before it was too late.
Corridors swung open, banged shut, imagined demons cracking under the weight of their souls. He was racing through darkness, pushing through the demon, holding on to his girls as he Slayed his way through her mind trying to find his lost girl. Heart breaking at every scream for mercy in her tired soul.
A flash of light illuminated the space inside of them and he saw her, trapped. Buffy. His golden goddess. Gagged and tied and beaten and tossed in a glass box that she couldn't shatter. On the door was a padlock, thick and heavy and made of gold. The lock was in the shape of a heart.
Spike blinked, watching the terrified, raging girl inside of the box. His girl. Not the Slayer. Buffy. Struggling. Fighting. Screaming. Pounding the walls and seeing images of what her body was doing in three sixty Technicolor around her. He could feel his heart break just seeing her torture. Demon had done this to him once. Tried to lock him away. But love had set him free.
Love wins.
Buffy caught sight of him walking on illuminated foot stones towards her prison. She stopped, falling to her knees, tears streaming down her face. Her green eyes begged. Pleaded. God, don't hate me. Goddess. Anyone. Please love me. Please love me. Please.
"I love you always, Pet," his voice sounded through the cold, dark air.
She got the strength to look up at him, see that unending adoration in his eyes. That beautiful, endless blue holding his heart in hers in just their colour. Buffy pressed her hand to the glass wall over the padlock. He tilted his head, falling to his knees on the other side of the glass and staring at her. Holding her in his mind. "Always, Pet. Everyday. There has never been a moment I haven't loved you. Never will be. This world and every after, I am yours."
The gag disappeared from her mouth and her bindings fell to the floor behind her. He pressed his hand to the glass opposite hers, fingers mirroring fingers, eyes boring into eyes. Melting, mixing, in a kaleidoscope of green and blue. "Spike," she whispered, watching the love, the forgiveness pour out of him and into her through the glass. "I love you."
Glass shattered, raining to the floor in harmless dull raindrops.
Will broke the standoff. "Gramma?"
The woman shook her head, the fog dissipating in her mind. She fell to her knees on the carpet, putting a hand to the floor to steady herself.
The little boy padded quietly to her, now eye level with the woman. "Gramma?" He repeated. She rocked back, looking at the boy for a moment. A tingle in her wrist distracted her as she watched the amulet on her arm glow red, and then a brilliant, blinding white. She glowed, the light forming a halo around her. Protecting her. Protecting them.
"William?" Joyce asked, still confused.
The little boy smiled, wrapping his arms around her neck and kissing her cheek. Suddenly, memories poured back into her. Memories from her life here. Memories of the quiet, sweet man in the In Between. The man that was now again the boy in front of her. Memories of love and kindness and family. Her arms wrapped around the child, pulling her against him, tears streaming down her face.
D'Hoffryn appeared in front of the woman, a slight smile appearing on his face. "Shall I assume that you rescind your wish?"
Joyce nodded vehemently, the boy's head buried in her shoulder. D'Hoffryn smiled again, walking to Anya and snapping his fingers.
She stood, staring at her boss, nervous and shaking. "Guess I'd better be off then. Got other jobs."
Anya shot him a weary glance. "But I didn't grant."
"She rescinded the wish. Doesn't exist. Don't do it again." He slid a hand over Anya's hair, smiling slightly.
With that, the elder demon was gone.
Emma had just enough time to wiggle from between her parents before Buffy collapsed forward onto Spike, sobbing, clutching around his neck. Spike held her tight against him with one arm, stroking her hair and hanging on to Emma's hand with the other.
The little girl sat quietly by her parents side, rubbing her mother's back, imitating her father. Buffy cried into her lover's chest, shuddering and shaking and still fighting the demon determined to rise above.
"S'alright, Love. I got you," Spike whispered over and over. "Won't let it take you away from us, all right? No one's going to take you away."
Buffy looked up, eyes full of tears. She looked at Emma first, making sure she hadn't hurt her. Slowly, she lifted her hand and grazed her daughter's cheek with her fingers. Emma smiled and sidled closer to her mum. Then Buffy turned her eyes to Spike.
The same eyes. Always the same. Bursting with devotion and love and unconditional respect. She could drown in his eyes. She wanted to. He could take away the pain and replace everything with this sweet, soothing calmness. Rightness. Wholeness. Love.
"Did I.," she muttered.
Spike shook his head. "Tots are fine."
"You?" Buffy asked, steeling herself for the answer.
He smiled. "Nice to know you worry," he joked, causing her to grin just enough that he knew she was still in there. "Fine, Pet."
A soft knock rapped against the doorframe. Spike spun on his knees as if the apocalypse had arrived and he wasn't prepared. Buffy rocked back up on her knees, pulling Emma behind her.
What lay before them was nothing either of them could bear.
Joyce stood in the doorway; William balanced on her hip, looking at them with a soft, gentle smile on her face. Anya was to the right of them, a sad, sweetness in her expression. "Spell's been reversed," the demon said softly.
Spike raised an eyebrow. "So that's."
Anya nodded. "Buffy's mum."
Buffy stood, slowly, eyes wide and brimming with tears. Emma rose with her, hand still caught inside her mother's. "Mom?" Buffy asked.
Joyce nodded, unable to speak, clutching the little boy against her as he nuzzled her cheek. Spike stood behind his girls to face the first human woman who had shown him kindness since he'd been turned. Love. Respect.
Part of him felt like weeping as well. But the Summers women seemed to have cornered the market at the moment.
"Hey, baby," Joyce whispered, her voice choked with tears.
Buffy ran at her mother, Emma at her side, throwing her arms around the woman and bursting into sobs of joy and relief. Joyce looked over her daughter's shoulder and nodded at Spike. Spike smiled sadly and she motioned him to her. Gently, she pulled him into the embrace with her daughter until all of them were a jumble of arms and tears.
"Mommy," Buffy muttered again and again, clutching her mother and her daughter, feeling her lover's arms around them both. Feeling another set of adult arms in the mix. Buffy glanced around to see Anya snaked behind William as well. It made her smile.
"It's all right, baby," Joyce whispered, raining kisses on her daughter's forehead. "It'll be okay soon."
The words registered with Spike and reality crashed down. His turned his face towards Joyce, his chin resting on the top of Buffy's head. They exchanged a glance that said it all.
It would only be right again when the amulet was broken. When the amulet disintegrated, Joyce would be gone.
Spike swallowed. Joyce kissed his forehead and hugged her daughter tight, closing her eyes. Smelling her hair. Feeling her warm, small arms around her waist like when Buffy was a child. When her eyes opened again she disentangled herself from the brood and spoke.
"Buffy," Joyce whispered, brushing her daughter's golden hair back. "I can't stay."
Buffy looked confused for a moment, tears streaming in silent rivers down her face. Spike put his hand on her back to steady her. "You just got here." The voice was that of a little girl. It broke Spike's heart.
Joyce smiled softly. "I did," she said calmly. "But I don't belong here anymore."
Buffy shook her head, but knew the truth in her heart. "Mom, please."
"You've got family," Joyce said quietly. "Someone who loves you as much as I do. You've done well, Buffy."
"Mom," she gasped, her sobs choking off her words.
"I love you," she whispered, kissing the top of Will's head and handing him to his mother. Buffy took the little boy and watched Joyce lean down and plant a soft kiss on Emma's head. 'They're beautiful."
Buffy smiled sadly, pulling the two kids closer to her. "Mom, please don't."
Joyce leaned forward, pulling Buffy towards her and kissing her forehead. "I have to, baby. But I won't be far."
"Cyrus sorted it then?" Spike questioned his voice gravelly with emotion. "So you'll go. home?"
Joyce smiled at the Vampire and nodded. "I'll be back where I belong."
Slowly, she held her arm out between them, the amulet dangling from her wrist. "You know what to do," she said, smiling at her daughter and the Vampire that became her son.
Spike nodded. Buffy swallowed hard, trying to fight back the tears. Slowly, gently, Spike took Buffy's hand, wrapping both around the amulet on her mother's wrist. A look passed between the three of them. Love. Sadness. Peace. Back to love.
It always comes back to Love.
Joyce nodded. "I love you all."
Spike leaned down to kiss her hand. "Wish you were here to see it."
"I can see it from the bleachers," Joyce chided, smiling.
"I love you, mom," Buffy whimpered, her hand shaking inside Spike's.
Joyce looked at her with all the love and hope and confidence she could muster and nodded.
Spike closed his hand over Buffy's. Buffy closed her hand over the amulet.
It exploded into a burst of white light that covered them all.
To be contd.-
Hi, there! Wow, another one on time. What next?
This chapter is a little longer than most. I hope you do not mind! I had a lot to cover. But the story is almost over. Maybe three more chapters so try and enjoy it!
As always, feedback fuels the muse, so let me know what you think. I appreciate all of the notes and reviews you write and will always try to write back.
Next chapter this weekend, if all goes well.
*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: Heart-Shaped Lock (Chapter Thirty-four 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: Spike arrives at the beach-side cottage just in time to see Buffy enter the house. Buffy finds the children and has to make a decision. D'Hoffryn grants the pawn's wish, but she is stopped by an unlikely hero. Spike gets to Buffy just in time to save his daughter and his love.
Heart-Shaped Lock
Spike pulled the motorcycle to the halt at the head of the driveway, cutting off the engine and coasting down the small inclined driveway to the cottage. His heart was pounding in his chest as he watched the shadows moving inside the brightly lit cabin and the sounds of voices lift into the chill night air.
As he rested the bike against a tree in the shadows near the house, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. A slight form, almost just a shadow of a person, creeping along the rear of the house and up through the open back door. The light from the inside of the house poured out and as the form reached the top step, the light filtered over, lighting golden hair and predatory grace in an almost ethereal glow.
Buffy.
Spike jogged down the last bit of the drive, not sure of what he had planned. Stop her. Save her. Make it right. Get my girl back. Get my tots. No real rhyme or reason but it was something. He'd always been pretty good at sorting out the battle while in the middle of fighting it.
He got to the back door in time to watch Buffy disappear around the corner of a small corridor to his right. There were voices coming from the front of the house. Where was Anya? Pony? The kids?
Best way to find out. Follow Buffy.
Buffy slid silently down the short corridor in the back of the house and turned the corner, following the scent of the children and the sounds of the voices. As she reached the bedroom area, she could see three forms up ahead of her in the front of the house, engrossed in some very serious conversation.
In front of her, a small blonde head peeked around the corner. One of the forms at the head of the hallway waved the little creature back into the room on her right, but instead, he had ducked across the hall into what seemed to be a closet.
Must be her son, the demon thought. Looks just like that traitorous Vampire.
Well, he wasn't the prize anyway. Pick him up on the way out. First things first. That tasty treat of a little girl with more power than anything else on the planet. The demon had long thought that there was nothing more potent than Slayer blood. It had a feeling it was about to find out differently.
Inside, Buffy, the real one, caught a glimpse of Will out of the corner of her eye and her soul screamed in agony, trying to push the demon away. It wasn't enough. She couldn't make it stop.
Make it stop.
"I wish that Buffy, that no one, can stop me from taking Emma," Joyce repeated to D'Hoffryn. Anya winced and mumbled in her frozen state, her eyes so large and pained, staring, pleading at her boss.
D'Hoffryn looked at Anya for a second, sadness in his eyes. He knew how much this life and these people had come to mean to her. But still, their job was their job. "Wish granted."
The Pawn didn't celebrate or do the Happy Snoopy Dance or even utter a 'Yay!', but rather dropped her head and turned around, sighing deeply. Not her wish, Anya thought. Not what she wants. How can we get her back before it's too late?
Spike slid down the corridor, staying close to the wall and hidden in the shadows from the bright lights in the front of the house. He followed Buffy's path down the hallway until he could see the figures speaking at the front end of the hall.
Willow had warned him, but nothing could prepare him for her. For Joyce standing there, breathing. Talking. Gesturing. Her kind face backlit by the living room lamps. Part of him broke, wanting to run, to help her, to make her all right too. To give her back to Buffy. The one thing he couldn't ever give her. Her mum.
He shook his head, trying to break the hold of his thoughts. Need to sort out Buffy first. Then we'll figure out what to do about Joyce. Spike dropped to a crouch near the door to a bedroom when movement to his left caught his attention.
Spike swiveled his head towards the motion and caught sight of Will across the hall, huddled on the floor of the closet, his broken arm around his knees, pulling them closer to his chest. The sight broke Spike's heart. The boy was terrified, shaking in the dark and staring directly at his father. Wanting help. Comfort.
Before the Vampire could creep closer to the boy, William shook his head. Spike stopped, staring at the big blue eyes for a moment. Again, Will shook his head and then pointed across the hall to the bedroom. "Mummy's got Emma," he whispered, barely loud enough for even the Vampire to hear. Spike nodded as the little boy waggled his finger towards the room again. "Save de giwls."
Spike had to smile, even for a moment. Poor sot, in for a lifetime of romantic ideals and certain heartbreak. But it had turned out all right for his dear old dad. Spike nodded again. "Stay put, Will. All right? "
Will nodded and watched as his father crept back across to the bedroom door.
Emma sat on the edge of the bed, her wide eyes staring down in the relative darkness at the slight, shadowy form that stood against the wall. She knew it wasn't her mother. Looked like mum. Smelled like mum. Wasn't.
"Come on, honey. I've come to take you home," the voice said. It was mum's voice, but empty.
Emma shook her head, not moving towards the figure, but not running away. "You're not my mum."
Buffy stepped into the moonlight so that the girl could see her more clearly. "Of course, I am dear."
The little girl shook her head. "You're not. You're wrong. I'm staying here with Aunt Anya until daddy comes to get me."
The demon chuckled. The tot had that much faith in her intuition and in her Vampire father that she wasn't even scared. Have to change that. "All right then. We'll just take care of this right here."
Buffy walked towards the bed with amazing quickness, pulling the little girl to the floor on her knees and dropping down behind her. "I'm not afraid of you," Emma whispered, as the thing behind her pulled her hair to the side to expose an expanse of soft neck.
"You should be," the feral voice replied.
Emma sighed, slumping. "My mummy won't let you. She's inside you. I can feel her. She will beat you."
The demon chuckled again. "Not doing a very good job so far."
The child paused, thinking. A thought came to her as she heard the sound of footsteps rounding the corner into the bedroom. "She loves me. Love wins."
The demon was quiet, struggling with the woman surging inside. Fighting pushing. Had to do this fast. "Not this time," it hissed, tightening the hold on the child.
Joyce began to walk solemnly down the hall towards the bedrooms. It was the end of the mission. All she had to do was walk in there, take the little girl and she could go home. Home free.
Why wasn't she glad?
Something in her head told her that she should be sad. Unhappy. That the mission was wrong and bad and .. A fog was lifting in her head as she walked.
Right as she came even with the little corridor to the bedrooms, movement to her right caught her eyes. Slowly, painfully, she swiveled her head and a little boy appeared in front of her. Standing in the middle of the corridor, blocking the way, one hand on his hip, the other dangling in a giant yellow cast to his side.
Joyce stared at the boy a moment. Blinked.
William stared back. Blinked.
Neither of them moved.
The Queen passed a hand in the air in front of herself and the Watcher. A sparkling tableau lay before them. A woman kneeling behind a child. A man running through a doorway, his mouth opening to speak. A little boy standing bravely in the center of a hallway staring. A confused, lost soul staring back.
"I believe it is time," the Queen stated calmly in stark contrast to the dry mouth and terrified heartbeat of her companion.
"Oh God," Cyrus muttered, watching the events play out.
She turned to look at him, an amused smile on her face. "Oh Goddess might be more appropriate here," she chided, passing her hand through the air once more.
"That of the Heavens, I reclaim to the Heavens. That of the Earth will remain on the Earth. Allow our soul to return to us." The Queen muttered something at the end that Cyrus could not make out. And then the pictures disappeared.
"Buffy, no!" Spike screamed, running through the doorway and sliding across the floor to a halt on his knees. Emma was facing him, eyes calm but with a tinge of fear. Buffy was behind her, just out of his reach. The little girl was sandwiched between her parents. Her father's eyes were wide and terrified, but something else was in there as well. Resolution?
Emma reached out her hand and touched her father's forearm. He calmed almost instantly, catching her blue eyes in his own. They were in this together. Together they could win.
"Buffy?" Spike whispered, trying to find her inside of those yellow, flashing eyes. "Love?"
"She's not home," Buffy's voice hissed, her eyes glimmering in the moonlight. Her mouth moved to her daughter's neck, barely touching. Spike's heart began to race again.
Emma took her father's hands in hers, calming him again, and pulled them behind her, onto Buffy's hips. The creature winced as if touched by fire. Emma nodded. Spike found his footing. "Buffy," he sighed calmly, finding her eyes again and searching. Finally, he closed his own and let his mind reach for her.
The little girl clung to him as he clung to Buffy, his mind bashing into every barrier behind those wicked eyes. Crushing the anger and the bloodlust and rage, hearing her crying, screaming out from underneath, pushing with all of her might to reach him before it was too late.
Corridors swung open, banged shut, imagined demons cracking under the weight of their souls. He was racing through darkness, pushing through the demon, holding on to his girls as he Slayed his way through her mind trying to find his lost girl. Heart breaking at every scream for mercy in her tired soul.
A flash of light illuminated the space inside of them and he saw her, trapped. Buffy. His golden goddess. Gagged and tied and beaten and tossed in a glass box that she couldn't shatter. On the door was a padlock, thick and heavy and made of gold. The lock was in the shape of a heart.
Spike blinked, watching the terrified, raging girl inside of the box. His girl. Not the Slayer. Buffy. Struggling. Fighting. Screaming. Pounding the walls and seeing images of what her body was doing in three sixty Technicolor around her. He could feel his heart break just seeing her torture. Demon had done this to him once. Tried to lock him away. But love had set him free.
Love wins.
Buffy caught sight of him walking on illuminated foot stones towards her prison. She stopped, falling to her knees, tears streaming down her face. Her green eyes begged. Pleaded. God, don't hate me. Goddess. Anyone. Please love me. Please love me. Please.
"I love you always, Pet," his voice sounded through the cold, dark air.
She got the strength to look up at him, see that unending adoration in his eyes. That beautiful, endless blue holding his heart in hers in just their colour. Buffy pressed her hand to the glass wall over the padlock. He tilted his head, falling to his knees on the other side of the glass and staring at her. Holding her in his mind. "Always, Pet. Everyday. There has never been a moment I haven't loved you. Never will be. This world and every after, I am yours."
The gag disappeared from her mouth and her bindings fell to the floor behind her. He pressed his hand to the glass opposite hers, fingers mirroring fingers, eyes boring into eyes. Melting, mixing, in a kaleidoscope of green and blue. "Spike," she whispered, watching the love, the forgiveness pour out of him and into her through the glass. "I love you."
Glass shattered, raining to the floor in harmless dull raindrops.
Will broke the standoff. "Gramma?"
The woman shook her head, the fog dissipating in her mind. She fell to her knees on the carpet, putting a hand to the floor to steady herself.
The little boy padded quietly to her, now eye level with the woman. "Gramma?" He repeated. She rocked back, looking at the boy for a moment. A tingle in her wrist distracted her as she watched the amulet on her arm glow red, and then a brilliant, blinding white. She glowed, the light forming a halo around her. Protecting her. Protecting them.
"William?" Joyce asked, still confused.
The little boy smiled, wrapping his arms around her neck and kissing her cheek. Suddenly, memories poured back into her. Memories from her life here. Memories of the quiet, sweet man in the In Between. The man that was now again the boy in front of her. Memories of love and kindness and family. Her arms wrapped around the child, pulling her against him, tears streaming down her face.
D'Hoffryn appeared in front of the woman, a slight smile appearing on his face. "Shall I assume that you rescind your wish?"
Joyce nodded vehemently, the boy's head buried in her shoulder. D'Hoffryn smiled again, walking to Anya and snapping his fingers.
She stood, staring at her boss, nervous and shaking. "Guess I'd better be off then. Got other jobs."
Anya shot him a weary glance. "But I didn't grant."
"She rescinded the wish. Doesn't exist. Don't do it again." He slid a hand over Anya's hair, smiling slightly.
With that, the elder demon was gone.
Emma had just enough time to wiggle from between her parents before Buffy collapsed forward onto Spike, sobbing, clutching around his neck. Spike held her tight against him with one arm, stroking her hair and hanging on to Emma's hand with the other.
The little girl sat quietly by her parents side, rubbing her mother's back, imitating her father. Buffy cried into her lover's chest, shuddering and shaking and still fighting the demon determined to rise above.
"S'alright, Love. I got you," Spike whispered over and over. "Won't let it take you away from us, all right? No one's going to take you away."
Buffy looked up, eyes full of tears. She looked at Emma first, making sure she hadn't hurt her. Slowly, she lifted her hand and grazed her daughter's cheek with her fingers. Emma smiled and sidled closer to her mum. Then Buffy turned her eyes to Spike.
The same eyes. Always the same. Bursting with devotion and love and unconditional respect. She could drown in his eyes. She wanted to. He could take away the pain and replace everything with this sweet, soothing calmness. Rightness. Wholeness. Love.
"Did I.," she muttered.
Spike shook his head. "Tots are fine."
"You?" Buffy asked, steeling herself for the answer.
He smiled. "Nice to know you worry," he joked, causing her to grin just enough that he knew she was still in there. "Fine, Pet."
A soft knock rapped against the doorframe. Spike spun on his knees as if the apocalypse had arrived and he wasn't prepared. Buffy rocked back up on her knees, pulling Emma behind her.
What lay before them was nothing either of them could bear.
Joyce stood in the doorway; William balanced on her hip, looking at them with a soft, gentle smile on her face. Anya was to the right of them, a sad, sweetness in her expression. "Spell's been reversed," the demon said softly.
Spike raised an eyebrow. "So that's."
Anya nodded. "Buffy's mum."
Buffy stood, slowly, eyes wide and brimming with tears. Emma rose with her, hand still caught inside her mother's. "Mom?" Buffy asked.
Joyce nodded, unable to speak, clutching the little boy against her as he nuzzled her cheek. Spike stood behind his girls to face the first human woman who had shown him kindness since he'd been turned. Love. Respect.
Part of him felt like weeping as well. But the Summers women seemed to have cornered the market at the moment.
"Hey, baby," Joyce whispered, her voice choked with tears.
Buffy ran at her mother, Emma at her side, throwing her arms around the woman and bursting into sobs of joy and relief. Joyce looked over her daughter's shoulder and nodded at Spike. Spike smiled sadly and she motioned him to her. Gently, she pulled him into the embrace with her daughter until all of them were a jumble of arms and tears.
"Mommy," Buffy muttered again and again, clutching her mother and her daughter, feeling her lover's arms around them both. Feeling another set of adult arms in the mix. Buffy glanced around to see Anya snaked behind William as well. It made her smile.
"It's all right, baby," Joyce whispered, raining kisses on her daughter's forehead. "It'll be okay soon."
The words registered with Spike and reality crashed down. His turned his face towards Joyce, his chin resting on the top of Buffy's head. They exchanged a glance that said it all.
It would only be right again when the amulet was broken. When the amulet disintegrated, Joyce would be gone.
Spike swallowed. Joyce kissed his forehead and hugged her daughter tight, closing her eyes. Smelling her hair. Feeling her warm, small arms around her waist like when Buffy was a child. When her eyes opened again she disentangled herself from the brood and spoke.
"Buffy," Joyce whispered, brushing her daughter's golden hair back. "I can't stay."
Buffy looked confused for a moment, tears streaming in silent rivers down her face. Spike put his hand on her back to steady her. "You just got here." The voice was that of a little girl. It broke Spike's heart.
Joyce smiled softly. "I did," she said calmly. "But I don't belong here anymore."
Buffy shook her head, but knew the truth in her heart. "Mom, please."
"You've got family," Joyce said quietly. "Someone who loves you as much as I do. You've done well, Buffy."
"Mom," she gasped, her sobs choking off her words.
"I love you," she whispered, kissing the top of Will's head and handing him to his mother. Buffy took the little boy and watched Joyce lean down and plant a soft kiss on Emma's head. 'They're beautiful."
Buffy smiled sadly, pulling the two kids closer to her. "Mom, please don't."
Joyce leaned forward, pulling Buffy towards her and kissing her forehead. "I have to, baby. But I won't be far."
"Cyrus sorted it then?" Spike questioned his voice gravelly with emotion. "So you'll go. home?"
Joyce smiled at the Vampire and nodded. "I'll be back where I belong."
Slowly, she held her arm out between them, the amulet dangling from her wrist. "You know what to do," she said, smiling at her daughter and the Vampire that became her son.
Spike nodded. Buffy swallowed hard, trying to fight back the tears. Slowly, gently, Spike took Buffy's hand, wrapping both around the amulet on her mother's wrist. A look passed between the three of them. Love. Sadness. Peace. Back to love.
It always comes back to Love.
Joyce nodded. "I love you all."
Spike leaned down to kiss her hand. "Wish you were here to see it."
"I can see it from the bleachers," Joyce chided, smiling.
"I love you, mom," Buffy whimpered, her hand shaking inside Spike's.
Joyce looked at her with all the love and hope and confidence she could muster and nodded.
Spike closed his hand over Buffy's. Buffy closed her hand over the amulet.
It exploded into a burst of white light that covered them all.
To be contd.-