Title: Grave Flower

Author: Bianca Masiello

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon, FX, UPN, Mutant Enemy, blah blah. we know the drill.

Story note: Been away in Boston for a few days, and for the Fourth of July, what a blast that was. So sorry bout the interlude as is bound to happen from time to time. Ok so, I know there's been a lot of talk up till now. Sorry bout the long intro (as it seems). I'm kind of playing this by ear (and by my dreams as most of this crap comes to me while I'm sleeping), but things are about to pick up. . .

Beauty of the night alone A simple kiss and now I've flown Light's glowing, burning life Never sharing, never kind Slowly now the light will fade Don't leave flowers at my grave - Bianca Masiello

Synopsis: Set at the end of Sleeper, what if Spike had gone through with the First's plans? Touch of AU: Tara's alive, and Xand and Anya got hitched. Spuffy but tasteful in a dark way.

------

Void

She just loved the rain. The way it fell in chaos, no pattern, and touched everything. Nothing could escape. Beautiful dark clouds that would cover the cruel morning sun; reminded her of days in England.

It made her skin sing, and she laughed deep in her throat as she stepped along the docks. The ship she'd ridden in on was oddly quiet, and she'd been the only one to step off right away. A few frightened, hired help searched the area fitful with nervousness, ran towards the town lights, stumbling over their own feet.

She was oblivious. Her sights now set on the walk ahead of her. Something there called to her, and she smiled and danced towards the sound of its voice.

------

The First returned to the Hellmouth. He walked into the complex instead of appearing as he was accustom to. It wasn't really walking, as he never really touched the ground. His shoes couldn't even make sound against the cement.

She held him like a mother would hold a child. The vampire was asleep in his childe's lap. The scent of fresh blood filled the air, and the First stepped over the bodies of several military men and a doctor.

"You've been busy." The First greeted Buffy. She didn't even look up. Just continued to rock her Sire and stoke his hair.

"Shh," she whispered, then looked up. Her green eyes flickering, "These walls echo something terrible." The Slayer smiled.

The First almost laughed. "It takes a lot to make me smile, Slayer," he commented, taking a deep drink of her eyes and the dark spirit that lay under the surface. She just looked back down at the cold body in her arms.

"They took his chip," she informed him.

"Then you took their lives, how fitting," The First glanced back at the massacre in the hall way, then back to Buffy. He looked her over for the first time. "They shot you," He spotted the crimson stain on the outer thigh of her jeans.

"You know, I've only been shot once before. I thought maybe because I'm dead it wouldn't hurt as much. . ." she spoke softly. Buffy glanced up to let him know the gun shot had not been a picnic. "I learn more and more every day. . ." she said with a sigh.

"That's alright, baby." The First comforted. "I have something that'll pick you right up," he said. She didn't recognize the form he'd taken to talk to her, though, it was just another dead face. He had a cocky air about him that was suiting and somewhat refreshing. Reminded her of someone she once knew.

"Mummy is coming for a little reunion," he said gleefully. Buffy frowned, she didn't understand. Her mother was dead and her father might as well have been too.

"What the hell are you rambling about," Buffy said snappily. Her patience was on a short leash lately.

"Tea time's rolling around and if Miss Edith pays close attention, she might catch the sound of Angel's wings over the Hellmouth." He said in a sing song voice. She was frozen in place for a long time.

Then she smiled, "Get out!" she exclaimed in disbelief.

"You, my friend, are in for a reunion, but it won't be all fun and games. There's things to do." He glanced down at Spike's limp form in her arms. Then more cruel, and distantly, "So many things,"

------

They had Xander go out for Chinese.

As was the natural order of things.

No one said it out loud, but the take out would be comforting. A taste of normality that had been so absent, so recently.

"Temerocq," Tara read out loud. Willow glanced over at her book.

"Is that was it is?" She asked. Tara glanced at the tiny misshapen, forlorn image of a human carved out of ebony. Its body was unnaturally thin, arms and legs stretched in a cradle like form. Its head hung low and humbly which gave it it's overcome-with-anguish look.

"I'm sure of it." She drew her eyes back down to the book, "Not valued among supernatural world, the Temerocq was forged nearly a century ago by a practicing Carmaintor, created as a magical tool to overwhelm those void with humanity,"

"Carmaintor?" Dawn asked, listening in carefully.

"Someone who deals in magicks, mainly, creates charms. Special objects for a special purpose." Willow explained. Dawn sighed a little oh and looked at the sad figurine.

"How does it work?" The brunette asked. Tara flipped the page and skimmed it.

"Doesn't say," she stated plainly. "How about you, Dawny. How goes the search?" Tara asked. Dawn just slumped further into her chair.

"This, thing, is," Dawn made hand gestures towards the jade box like object she'd been assigned to, then looked down at the pages, "Not here," she finished rather under dramatically. The witches frowned.

"Try looking under a kind of, Pandora's Box," Tara suggested.

"Yeah, maybe it's not meant to trap something, but more exactly, it's already holding something." The red head smiled. She liked figuring things out. Puzzles and codes always gave her a pure sense of satisfaction when completed or cracked. Plus, they filled her mind up, so none of the really bad things she didn't want to think about could get in.

"Ahh," Dawn exclaimed, the pencil she'd placed in her mouth was keeping her from speaking straight. She removed it and smiled, "Jinga," the girl exclaimed. The two women across from her waited patiently for her to explain what it was. Dawn just kept reading to herself.

"Um, Dawny?" Tara started. Dawn kept her eyes on the page as she picked up the emblazoned jade box. She glanced at it and started to place her fingers in particular places. Back at the book, then another glance at the box as she carefully positioned her fingers on all six sides.

"We don't know what it does, wait. . ." Willow tried to cut in, but Dawn had finished the puzzle box before Will could protest.

Full attention turned to the box now, "There," she sighed and twisted. The box snapped into two smooth halves. A tiny clear ball rested in the center of the bisected box.

Almost immediately, the tiny square sachet began to shake. As did the forlorn man. They watched in awe as the shaking grew and finally the man turned to face the box and, simultaneously, the sphere flew out of its jade resting place and into the waiting man shaped cradle.

"Ok." Will said, still digesting what she'd just seen.

"Nifty," Dawn smiled again.

Tara looked up, "Giles," she called. Will glanced at her girl, "Maybe he can help with the how," Tara explained. The redhead nodded.

He walked in to the shop from the training room. All three sets of eyes reflected the same thought to him. What could Angel have said? Giles thought he must look simply awful. However, he felt indescribably worse.

"What is it girls?" he asked quietly. Dawn's expression changed first.

"We cracked your puzzle box," she said.

"Its the Temerocq," Tara repeated to the Watcher.

Giles neared the table and examined the object. "Quite," he said. "I don't believe I've ever heard of it." His voice was drained.

"That's gotta be a first," Xander spoke. He was sitting at the top of the stairs, watching the shop. Anya was beside him, laying down, watching through the railing. The ex-demon had been chillingly inert and quiet ever since their return from the house on Hoffman Terrace.

"Yes," Giles responded mechanically, but annoyed.

Reading from Tara's book, "It instills humanity to those near it." Willow explained.

Giles shook his head as to confirm that he didn't recognize it. They frowned. "Well at least it's pretty." Dawn commented.

The wind pressed leaves and rain against the shop window. The dreary music of the downpour was allowed to fill the store. Morning light was nearly filtered out through the storm altogether. Only a soft, barely there, gray glow draped over the town's streets. There were flood warnings everywhere; the weather stations couldn't explain the sudden and heavy rain washing over California.

They hung their heads and mostly, it was ignored.

He stood outside, looking in through the window. The world inside seemed something parallel to this one, only worse. He'd never seen this group so defeated. Then again, he'd never felt the need to convey this kind of grief before in his life or unlife.

Yet he couldn't force himself to go inside. How do you prepare? He didn't know what he'd say. Maybe he was wrong to come.

But before he realized, he was pushing the door open and stepping into the shop where it was dry. Almost everyone turned.

"The sign says we're closed," Giles started without looking up.

Anya blinked back to awareness and lifted her head, "Angel," she whispered.

------

She put down Giles's journal and glanced over to the lit door way into the shop. The tiny door bell rang introducing someone.

Her spine tingled.

She couldn't see any of their faces, but Giles tried to shoo the visitor, assuming they were a customer, but it was Anya that let her know, Angel was back.

The journals were blood curdling enough. The things he had done! All with out a soul, granted, but it was still the same man, same face. She almost couldn't understand how they could look at him with out hate in their eyes.

But she knew. They could because Buffy loved him. And because he had his soul again.

Curiosity tickled her. She had absorbed their past; she knew only bits and pieces of their adventures with the Slayer. Bits and pieces more than when she had arrived, but words were not pictures.

Lindsey pushed aside the books and slowly, soundlessly neared the door opening.

------

They greeted him without really saying anything. Willow said something friendly and Tara nodded with a sweet smile. Giles stood and removed his glasses. Angel noticed Xander sitting up on the second level next to his wife. They didn't exchange any welcome other than a glance. Anya was so sullen. He'd on no account witnessed her that way. Who knew she'd take it hardest of all?

"Hey Angel," Dawn greeted. He looked over at the brunette adolescent. He slightly smiled back.

His spine tingled.

Angel looked over at Giles. "Who else is here?" He asked sternly. Giles's eyes flickered briefly and he tried to answer. Angel's head turned towards the training room.

"Angel, wait. . ." Dawn tried to stop him but he was already there.

The vampire peered into the dark room. A single lamp sat at the far end with a pile of Watcher's Journals. He glanced around, searching for anything.

"So you're Angel," she said. He turned to his left, a girl stood. She was Dawn's height, and lithe. Long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders with a soft wave. Her emerald green eyes moved over him slowly, wearily.

When her eyes locked with his, he realized, "You're the Slayer,"

She didn't understand it when pain fell over his face. It was strange enough to have been taught that, other than Master Vampires, most vampires are soulless, mindless, agendaless monsters, and then have this man placed before her. He was everything the texts said a vampire wasn't.

She'd realized in her heart long before the thought entered her head and became words that, he loved Buffy. A vampire and a Slayer, how tragically poetic. It took only a moment longer for Lindsey to fall from her high state of comprehension, and suddenly became uneasy under his overcome, pained stare.

"Angel," Dawn said cautiously as she entered the room behind him. Angel made an attempt to look over his shoulder at her, but simply couldn't pull himself away from the girl. "This is Lindsey," The brunette said somewhat humbly.

No one spoke.

------

A hollow wind weaved through the graveyard. It swept up leaves and flower petals on its way. It swept past her, her head turned to see it go, not wondering where it was going, just that it touched her. The chill it gave her put a smile on her face.

The blond let her hands fall to her side, brushing along the tops of the graves.

"How much further," She whispered with her eyes closed. Letting the gravestones lead her.

"Here," The First said. He stopped walking beside her. Buffy's fingers paused on a head stone. She turned and sat on top of it. Her green eyes opened.

The First stayed where he was, examining her. "How's Spike," he asked. Buffy tilted her head in curiosity.

"Can't you just, blink, and see for your self?" she asked. The First looked down, he smiled at her tone. She'd picked up Spike's cocky, condescending game tricks.

"If I wanted," He said. "But I asked you,"

Buffy pressed her lips together, thinking. "Brooding as ever," she answered with a sarcastic pep. Buffy knew that wasn't what he meant. She looked back at him, he was wearing a characteristically not-amused look. "God." She said, "Touchy much. He's asleep, should be for another couple hours."

"I'm not touchy, just fascinated by you." He said with a touch of inquisitiveness she'd never heard him express before.

"Little old me?" She said, with eyes wide. "I'm nothing fascinating, to use your words. Maybe complicated and arrogant, but fascinating?" she said. A smile crept onto her face.

"What," he asked, noticing her laughter.

"You," she replied. "Look at you." Buffy waved at him. "Why choose an attractive body that I don't know, a stranger by most standards," she quizzed.

"What are you implying." There was only a hint of growl in his voice. Buffy blinked and threw her hands up declaring her innocence. He looked over to his left. "She's here. Play nice." The First said. He looked back at Buffy, his expression changed again. He was peaceful, but. . . she couldn't place it. He blinked as if realizing he was staring and looked away before disappearing.

"Weird," she sighed.

Buffy looked over to the left. There was nothing there. She sighed again and tilted her head, cracking her neck. She rested. Waited.

"Shhh," a voice came from behind her. Buffy turned around on the gravestone, no one was there. She blinked and turned back around.

Laughter to her left, she glanced over. Still no one. Buffy sighed again and stood up. She only got a step away from the headstone before a cold hand slipped into hers. Buffy looked to her right side.

"Drusilla," she smiled. Dru's dark eyes sparkled in the moon light. She stepped in front of Buffy, still holding her hand. She raised their hands and swayed a little, dancing. Dru looked over Buffy long and hard.

"My, what a pretty dolly." She whispered. Her eyes darted back up to meet Buffy's eyes, so seductively it sent a chill down Buffy's spine. Dru smiled a little and stepped up to the girl. She stepped around Buffy to the right, folding her arm across her stomach.

"Nice to have you back," Buffy tried to sound haughty, but her voice was a mere whisper. Dru pressed her body against Buffy's back, using Buffy's own arm to hold her there.

Dru reached up and tilted her head, brushing her hair out of the way, stroking her shoulder. Her thin fingers just grazing the nape of Buffy's neck. Buffy felt her breath get heavy, her knees go weak. She fought to keep her eyes open.

"All healed now," she traced over Buffy's scar. Buffy had hardly thought about it till now. Spike had given her a scar, she was marked. "But he's yet to claim a Queen," she supposed enchanted.

"What," The Slayer wanted to say more, ask her what the hell she was talking about, but she was still breathless.

Dru let go of Buffy's hand. She stood up on her tip toes and lowered her face to Buffy's cold skin and kissed her scar.

"Never had a grandchilde before," she giggled innocently into Buffy's ear. "Welcome to our happy family." Her voice had a soft singsong quality that added to her beauty and mystery.

Buffy smiled too. The blond turned to Spike's sire and took her hand carefully, love dancing in her eyes. Dru lit up, seeing the affection in Buffy's eyes.

Together they walked home.