All For One

Author's Note: This is the third and final story about Spike and Anya. The first was And Then There Were Three, followed by Two To Tango. This one ties in with my other long fic Sins Of The Father. But you don't have to read that to read this. Here's a simple breakdown:

Wes found out he had a daughter - Charlotte (Lottie/Char) when she was seven. In all that turmoil, he and Faith got together and had a daughter, Olivia (Liv) when Lottie was 16. Four years later, Lottie had a daughter, Juliet (Jules) with Connor (who is about ten years older than Lottie, thanks to the Hell dimension).

We're about twenty five years into the future here, yep, that's how far we've travelled. And yes, some people have died. A few events here are based on things that happened in the last seasons' of Buffy and Angel (though not everything in those seasons' happened, only what is mentioned here)

Hope you like this little sort-of Epilogue to my Spike and Anya stories.


They were strolling along the Embankment, fingers loosely entwined, listening to the sounds of the city around them. Her feet were bare, sore after a hard night's partying in black stilettos. Not that he was complaining, she had gorgeous feet. She was humming gently, shaking her hips with a little giggle every now and again. Maybe that last glass of red wine had over done it?

He shrugged and pulled a cigarette from his pocket, jammed it into his mouth. He searched fruitlessly with one hand for his lighter before she slipped her hand slowly into the back pocket of his jeans and handed it to him with a small smile. He smiled at her and lit the cigarette; inhaling deeply and letting his head fall back to look at the sky.

God, he loved London.

He grinned at the skyline: good ol' Big Ben had stood the test of time, as had Parliament. The London Eye stood against the skylinewas lit carefully with soft white lights. She had loved that and he enjoyed pointing out Buckingham Palace and the Mall, which were visible in the gentle dark of early evening. When they leapt off the Eye, they had careened around London, whirling in and out of pubs and clubs and laughing right along with other late night revellers. They had fallen through the door of Giles's old house barely minutes before the sun rose.

He sighed a little when he thought of that house. It still made him guilty when he thought of it. Giles had given it to them when he decided he needed a smaller place. It made them a tidy little income when they rented it out between their few and far between stays in England.

He thought Giles should have given it to Buffy, who could always use the money. He still wasn't clear why Giles had said it was Anya's and therefore his too.

"You still guilty about that, honey?" she asked, straightening up.

He chuckled. She always knew what he was thinking.

"Wouldn't have to be if Tara hadn't decided to give me a bloody soul," he answered.

She watched him as his head slumped forward and she too felt the rush of sadness. Tara lived with the rest of the guys in Cleveland and they hadn't seen each other in a while. Anya and Spike had lived in Cleveland for a couple of years before following Dawn to LA. They missed their friends, but they still saw each other. The main problem was that whenever friends were mentioned, memories of an apocalyptic battle that saw the death of five friends followed swiftly.

At least she was still with him.

They strolled down the side streets, chatting quietly or walking in companionable silence.

Anya looked at him and frowned. His brow was furrowed; his mouth set in a grim line. Pushing her own lonely and sad feelings to one side, she grabbed the hand that hung limply at his side and pulled the cigarette from it. She crushed it out against a brick wall and he looked at her, surprise on his face. With a sly smile, she pulled his other arm around her, wrapped her arms around him and lifted herself up on tiptoe as she pressed her lips to his. With a low growling moan, he lifted her up into his arms and her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

She didn't care about the rough brick behind her, scratching at her clothes and her back when Spike pushed her shirt up and slid his hand over her bra. She leaned her head forward to kiss him and moaned loudly when he pressed her even more tightly against the wall.

She let herself forget the grief that would seize her suddenly for no reason. She let herself drown in Spike.

She was good at that.


They were happier are they walked back to the house. Their joined hands swung between them and she smoothed her black skirt every now and again, grinning at him. They turned into their street and into the front garden of their house.

"We gonna rent this out again when we go home?" she asked conversationally as he unlocked the door and stood back to allow her entry.

"Yeah. Should bring in a pretty penny, it's in a nice area of London," he agreed and wandered down the hall to the kitchen. He pulled a jar of fresh blood out of the refrigerator and poured out two glasses. He offered one to her and hopped onto the counter, sipping his own, watching her as she pulled her shoes off again and sighed in relief.

"Spike?" she said suddenly, looking at him warily.

"Yeah, love?"

"I…" she paused and changed her mind about going home, he seemed so happy here. "Nothing, it's ok."

"Anya?" he warned. "What is it?"

"I was gonna ask if…" she searched for a replacement for her original request and buried her face in her glass before continuing. "...I could I have a new dress?"

He looked at her blankly for a moment, then laughed loudly.

"Yeah. I'll buy you a new dress, love," he glanced behind him, out of the window and jumped off the counter, gulping the last of the blood.

"Thank you," she answered. "I love you, Spike."

He grinned and prised the now empty glass from her hand, putting it into the sink with his. He turned back and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her off the counter and into his arms. He nuzzled her neck and she hummed appreciatively. He spun her out of the kitchen that was being slowly filled by the light of the sun and up the stairs to their bedroom.


"You had the chip removed?" she asked, frowning.

Spike nodded slowly and waited for her screams, the crossbow aimed at him, the voice ordering him out of the apartment.

"What happened, baby?"

He stared at her. The "baby" indicated she was ok with his bombshell. The story might change that though.

"You know Soldier Boy came back?"

She rolled her eyes. Riley had come back a few weeks ago with that wife of his. Ok, so they were nice, but that was Anya's problem with them. They were too nice. They were boring. There was no passion in their relationship. Anya had grown used to strong feelings. The relationship between herself and Spike was passionate in the extreme, resulting in heated arguments and wild make-up sex.

Anya nodded slowly.

"Well, apparently the Slayer asked him to have this thing in my head removed."

Anya's eyebrows climbed and her eyes widened.

"Why?"

Spike looked down and shuffled his feet.

"Spike, why?" her voice was sharp with authority, but he heard the worry, the recognition that something was wrong.

"Apparently, the chip's not s'posed to last forever. He let slip that it will start degenerating soon… Taking me along with it."

Her mouth fell open and he thought she was going to cry. How wrong was he.

"It would kill you?" she screamed, snapping to attention and blazing with anger that made him recoil.

"Er… yeah?"

She started pacing in front of him and he stood quietly, letting her work her fury out through muttered curses and the wild waving of her arms.

"Anya, pet," he caught her arm and pulled her to a halt. "It's ok. No chip now, it's fine."

"But what if Farm Boy didn't come back?" she snapped. "Would he have had the decency to call at least?"

"Does it matter? I went with Riley to the old Initiative base and I had it removed. It's ok, my head's not gonna explode and I don't intend to go munching on any humans if that worries you."

She shook her head.

"I know you wouldn't," she snapped, glaring at him. His body recoiled slightly from the heat of her anger but one hand reached out and stroked her face.

"I know you do," he answered softly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" her anger faded into sudden despair. She hadn't been there… What if it had hurt? What if he had been scared? And she wasn't there…

"Didn't want to worry you, Sunshine."

"I could have gone with you to the Initiative, held your hand. Damnit, Spike, you should have told me! We're supposed to be a team!" she flared up again and pulled his hand from where it had slipped to her shoulder. She pushed him away when he approached and glared at him.

"I know, I know. And we are a team. But it's over now, no need to worry."

He kissed her softly and took her hand. He pulled her close and held her. She clung to him; her head nestled in his shoulder. They stood like that for a while and Anya suddenly realised and marvelled at the fact he could kill her now, drain her, snap her neck, anything. But he didn't. Instead, he was just holding her.

Then something else occurred to her. Something that terrified her but made her a little bit hopeful. She was hesitant to voice it, but holding her tongue was not exactly what she was known for and he seemed to like that aspect of her personality.

"Spike?"

"Mmmm?"

"Y'know that time when I asked you to turn me…?" she tailed off to gauge his reaction. She felt his hand that was stroking her back pause for a second before continuing.

"Yeah. But I thought we agreed not to talk about that anymore?"

"I know, but you said after that you'd do it."

"So…?" he knew what she was getting at, but he wanted her to say it, just to test himself, to see how he would react.

"So how about now?" she pulled away from him slightly to look at him. "Just think about, Spike. But right now, without the chip, you can do it. Please, just think about this before you -"

"You really want this?" he interrupted.

"I… I want to be with you forever, Spike. And it isn't like I don't know a thing or two about evil and now Willow and Tara can do the en-soulment spell without the happy clause. They did it for Angel, why not me? We could be together forever, you and me."

"If that's what you really want, love," he stopped. He had long ago come to the conclusion that she would ask again and he had said he would turn her one day. He was bound by that promise and however much he didn't want to kill her, she was right. They would be together forever. He took a deep breath and finished his sentence. "I'll do it."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he answered and she beamed. She hugged him tightly; he closed his eyes and tried to see the bright side.

Anya forever. Yeah, that was a bright side all right.


He felt weird. Maybe weird was an understatement. He groaned and lifted a hand to touch his head.

"What the -?" he stared at his hand, it was glowing slightly.

"Spike?"

He lifted his gaze to meet Tara's worried eyes. Willow hovered behind her, nibbling her lip. He could hear the breathing of the others at the far end of the room and Dawn's whispered. "What happened?"

"Glinda," he growled. "What's going on? What hit me? Where's Anya?"

"I'm here," Anya pushed through Tara and Willow and sank to her knees beside him, gripping his hand. "I'm all right."

"You're awake," he said. He noted the red stains around her mouth and a quick look revealed that Dawn had given her the blood when she awoke, as instructed.

"Yeah, I'm awake. I think the soul woke me up," she smiled weakly.

"You feel ok?"

"Oh, yeah. I feel great," she looked over at Tara and Willow. "Why is Spike on the floor? And why the hell is he glowing?"

"And why do I feel so soddin' weird?" he asked. Voices rose in his mind.

Sharp cries.

Weakened pleas for mercy.

Screams of agony.

A wave of guilt washed over him and he sat up slightly, afraid he would be sick. Anya shifted and pulled him back, his head resting in her denim clad lap.

"Tara," he rasped. "Red… You…. You gave me a soul?"

There was a sharp intake of breath from the others in the room and Tara and Willow exchanged glances.

"Huh?" Anya asked, shifting her gaze from Spike to the Witches.

"Guys, could you give us a minute?" Willow asked.

"Um, sure," Xander nodded. "You gonna be ok?"

"Well, I'm not gonna eat 'em, Xander," Anya muttered.

Buffy tugged his arm and poked Dawn sharply in the ribs. They left the room and Spike and Anya looked at the two Witches.

"What's goin' on?" Spike growled.

"I think that we made a mistake," Willow started. "Somehow we… en-souled you both when we tried to en-soul Anya. Is that a… bad thing?"

Anya didn't answer. She really didn't mind her soul; there was no time for her to act on her demon impulses, so she had no guilt. In fact, she had never felt better.

Spike, on the other hand, looked terrible. She thought he'd be sick and his eyes were slightly unfocused.

"I…" Spike tailed off and attempted a casual, sarcastic tone that he didn't quite carry off. "Well, I'm not gonna kill anyone. That should please Harris. But the… memories…" he closed his eyes and didn't continue.

"I'll help you, honey," Anya said, dropping kisses over his face and lips. "I'll help you. You and me against the world. We'll get through this."


And they did. Spike smiled down at Anya where she lay curled around his body. He swallowed the laugh when he went on to remember Giles's reaction to his en-soulment and Anya's turning.

Giles had left for England months before and had returned with news that the First Evil was launching an attack on them. They met him at the airport in the early evening and delivered all the news as Giles drove them back to the Summers' house, not quite sure he wanted Xander driving when he kept looking at Buffy with long puppy stares. The news of the changes in Spike and Anya was greeted with indignation.

"Spike's got a soul?" he asked.

"Um, yeah, that'd be right, Rupes," Spike answered.

"And Anya is now a vampire?"

"Yes, I am," Anya said proudly.

"And you just forgot to tell me?" Giles cried. "Just… left me out of the loop! It's as though I don't matter anymore!"

He sank back into the seat and gripped the wheel of the car tightly, his lower lip jutting out like a petulant child.

"Giles, it's no big deal," Buffy shrugged. "They're not hurting anyone!"

"No, now you've just got another Angel on your hands! As if he wasn't annoyingly broody enough!"

"Hey, hey, hey!" Spike started, leaning forward in his seat and poking Giles hard in the head with each cry of indignation.

"Spike," Anya said, pulling him back before leaning forward and jabbing Giles sharply in the head, causing him to veer the car sideways, earning them a scream from Xander. "Spike's better looking than Angel!"

"Thanks, Sunshine," Spike said smugly. "Hey, wait. Does that mean you think I'm broody?"


They had battled the First only days later. The town's occupants had long left when Willow and Tara started a spell to kill the First. The Potentials had stood behind them; a frightened but determined line of resistance. But in the middle of the powerful spell, the First struck back; causing a clash that destroyed the First and reduced Sunnydale to a crater.

They had only been saved by brilliant green light, emitting from Dawn. It was what she now called her "Keyness" that had been shocked into activation. They had moved onto Cleveland and Giles returned to England. The First had blown up the Council and he put together a New Council that Buffy and Faith rejoined. Then, two years later, Spike and Anya had moved to LA with Dawn while she attended UCLA. They moved into the Hyperion, intending to find a place of their own. They hadn't got around to that yet and they had lived there for the past twenty five years.

They had been there for the birth of Wes and Faith's daughter Olivia and four years after that, the birth of Juliet, Lottie and Connor's daughter. They were also there for the apocalyptic battle last year that resulted in Wolfram and Hart being handed to them. An apocalyptic battle that also resulted in the deaths of Lorne, Fred, Gunn, Connor and Lottie. Leaving fourteen year old Juliet Angel without her Mom and Dad.

Spike half-sighed, half-laughed and peppered kisses along Anya's shoulder. She twisted slightly and looked at him, stifling a yawn.

"How are you not tired?" she asked in tired disbelief.

"What can I say?" he said huskily. "You just do it for me."

"Mmmm, that's nice," she rolled over and pressed against him, tilting her head back to give him better access to her collarbone.

The sound of the phone rang through the house and Anya growled in annoyance.

"Sunshine?" Spike looked up at her. "Did you just growl? You know I love when you do that."

She giggled and swatted at his head, bundling him over so she could straddle him.

"Leave it," she said, sliding down the bed and sucking his jugular.

"Had no intention of doing otherwise," he replied. "Let the machine get it."

"You're not in?" asked the voice coming from the machine downstairs. "Well, if you're dust, Angel's gonna kill ya."

"Oh hell," Spike muttered, pulling away from Anya. "It's Liv."

"Don't go," Anya said. "We'll listen and if it's bad, pick it up."

"Though I guess you're not dust," Olivia continued. "Listen, Angel's going nuts. He says he's sick of fielding your calls for you and having to do all the kick ass work without you two around. He says he has his own work to take care of. Personally, I think he's just got a load of sexual tension from being away from Cordy for so long 'cause he's so busy he hasn't got time for any touch. Dad says hi and could you please hurry home 'cause he's sick of Angel's constant bloody moaning. Mom, Jules and Cordy say hi too. So if you could let us know when you'll be back, if you'll be back at all and what not. Well, if you two could pry yourselves apart for five bloody minutes, I'd be grateful…. Jules is ok. She misses you two, though. But she's ok. Better than she was before you left. Not much, but better… Uh, bye then, see ya soon."

Then was a clunk and Spike chuckled.

"You can tell Liv is Wes and Faith's girl," he commented, then frowned. "Sounds like Jules is doing ok."

The loss of her parents had hit Juliet hard. Her only real relatives were Wesley, Fatih, Angel and Olivia. She had never called Angel anything but "Angel." Not that Spike blamed her, he didn't exactly look like a grandpa. Neither did Wes, so Jules called him "Da." Olivia was only four years older than Juliet, so she was very rarely refered to as "Aunt." To Jules, Olivia was Liv, Spike was Spike, and Anya was Anya. And Juliet was fourteen with an attitude problem and a sharp tongue.

"Well, sounds like we're needed," Spike sighed. "But we don't have to go home if you don't want to, pet, we could disappear. That should piss Angel off."

"We should go back really, Spike. Responsibility, blah, blah, Guardians, yadda, yadda, Champions of the good, blah, blah, blah."

"Yeah, I know. But I thought you were having fun here?"

"I have been having fun. I just… I sorta miss LA, y'know. And I miss the guys and the work and my nice office. I miss my department, it's probably gone to hell by now."

"Dawn said she'd take care of the sales department."

"Exactly."

"You want to go home then, Sunshine?"

"If you don't mind."

"To be honest, I'm more happy kicking arse and teasing Wesley. I miss Niblet too and Jules, Liv and Faith. And there is all that time in the stock room and the way that pisses the pouf off."

"So, can we go home?"

"Whatever you want, love."


"Honey, we're home!" Spike yelled into the Hyperion.

It was Sunday. The one day the guys retreated to their home, the Hyperion and worked only on the urgent cases sent their way. The lobby was silent and Spike and Anya exchanged looks.

"Nice to see they decided to throw a party," Spike commented.

"What if something's happened to them?" Anya asked, an edge of worry to her voice.

"Nothing's happened, Anya," Wesley said, coming down the stairs with a brave smile, grief still etched down the lines around his mouth. "Good to see you two decided to come home at last. If I had to listen to Angel's 'responsibility' speech one more time…"

"So where is everyone?" Anya asked, grabbing Wesley briefly in a bone-crushing hug that had him rubbing his arm discreetly with a small smile.

"Fighting the good fight, Anya," Angel said grumpily, gripping his sword with a grim but determined face as he emerged from the offices. "Hope you haven't forgotten how."

"No," Anya answered with a glower in his direction, grabbing her own sword from the cabinet. "Have you?"

"Great to have you guys home," Dawn grinned, bouncing on the balls of her feet behind Olivia, Cordy, Faith and Juliet.

"Nice to see you and all," Spike answered, grabbing an axe and following Angel toward the double doors.

"Where are we off to then, Blossom?" Spike asked, watching Angel with a slight frown of disapproval at his so-called welcome.

"Santa Monica," Angel answered. "Uprising in the Tracker demon clans."

"Only in LA," Spike muttered.

"Oh, and Spike, Anya?"

Anya and Spike looked up at Angel who's grumpy visage cracked and he grinned at them.

"Good to see you."

As quick as his appreciation and mostly grudging happiness that they were home appeared, it evaporated, ready for battle. With a swish of his jacket, he turned and led the team out of the hotel, leaving Wesley and Cordy to hold the fort.

Spike and Anya exchanged smiles.

Yep, it was good to be home.


The End.