A huge shout out to everyone who reviewed! You made my day, and even inspired me to write another chapter. Thanks to the newcomers: PhoenixMoon 13 (your amazing reviews had me in a dazzled stupor for almost ten minutes, and then snapped me out of my writer's block), amylase, stonecoldfox and DragonKatGal (whose stories are amazing and keeps me striving to improve my writing). Also a huge thanks to my loyal reviewers: ms trick (I wait for your reviews before even thinking of posting another chapter), GwEnDoLyN P. MaLfOy and Courtney37.

Chapter 29

1897

Spike slipped his arm around his princess and whispered in her ear. "Time for a snack, ducks."

She shivered with excitement, gazing down the stone cobbled street. When she turned to face him, Drusilla's eyes were widened in raw, crazed hunger. "Can we please have someone young tonight? Someone young and silly, like the flowers, and someone old and wise like the moon."

Spike chuckled. "You can whatever you want, as long as you take it soon."

She clapped her hands in glee and pointed to a dingy cart on the side of the road. They slinked towards it, and he saw a small room behind it. Peering through the window, he noticed and old woman huddled before the fire stirring something in the pot. He grinned and pulled Dru closer.

"Look, pet," he murmured. "Here's the entrée."

"Ah," she crooned. "Such a clever girl, she is." Suddenly Dru gasped and clutched at her head. She began to wail and Spike clamped his hand over her mouth, dragging her away fro the old woman's window.

"What's the matter?"

"She will tell you things that should not be!" she whined. "Things about yellow hair and blood and love!"

Spike tried to make sense of her babbling, but she became too agitated and hurried off into the night. He thought it best to let her go since she wasn't the best of company when in a state like this one. He watched her go, pondering her words and glancing towards the window where the old woman still sat by the fire. Dru's insane ramblings were too common for him to take much notice, but there was something in the way her eyes flashed with jealousy and sympathy that made him want to discover the cause of this angst. He slipped into the covered doorway and knocked on the door. There is no answer but he feelt the tension thicken inside the house. She knew he was there, and she knew what he was. Which is why he was completely taken aback when the door creaked open and an unexpected soft, girly voice called to him.

"Come in, vampire."

Spike raised his eyebrows in surprise and adhered, sliding through the door and standing two feet into the small room. The crone was still seated before the fire, and Spike would have normally been provoked to just kill her right then. But there was something about her that made him hesitate.

"You will not kill me," she said, neither questioning him nor telling him. She was merely stating a fact; one which he suddenly knew was true. He could not kill her.

"Why am I here?" he asked.

She turned to face him and he startled when he saw the white orbs of a blind person staring back at him. She chuckled. "Don't worry, vampire. I may not be able to see but I can still see things."

Spike shook his head in confusion, and then cocked his head to the side when understanding dawned. She was a seer, like Dru.

"What do you see?"

"Many things. But they are not for you to know, at least not yet. I shall tell you this, however. She will swallow the darkness and what has been seen will pass. A sacrifice will be imperative for the summoning, and you will be too late."

"What kind of bollocks was that?" Spike scoffed, taking a threatening step closer. She held up her hand, and when he looked around Spike found himself once more outside the threshold of her room.

She turned to him, the white orbs suddenly sharp and steely. "You shall watch the one you love die. And the only way to save her is to kill her. Goodbye, vampire."

Spike stared at her body, wondering why he wasn't sad, wasn't angry, wasn't anything. There should have been some sort of feeling as a testament to her death. Grief was usually associated with ones feelings when dealing with the death of a loved one. So why wasn't there some goddamned feeling in him?

Miss Kirly stared at Buffy's still form with an expression akin to hunger. She held her breath, waiting for something that was sure to happen soon.

And sure enough, a moment later Spike felt his world shift once more.

Buffy opened her eyes. Pushing herself to her knees, she then climbed to her feet and turned her head from left to right, looking at her surroundings in calm curiosity. Her gaze fell upon the Watcher, and Kirly sank to her knees in wonderment. The vampires behind her fell to the ground, flattening their bodies against the carpeted floor.

Spike watched in detached amazement as the girl he thought dead rose to her feet. He stood utterly still, afraid that if he moved then the dream might break and her face would dissolve from the scene in front of him. His heart, which had surely been shattered by the muted thump of the impact of her body on the floor, clenched in his chest. She was so beautiful! If only he could reach out and touch her…

She turned to him then, and the faint hope the vision of her rising had given him was dashed. Her eyes were black. Empty. Nothing. They were not the emerald windows they once were, but black depths that led to absolute nothingness. They were voids. And he knew that she was not hidden behind them. This thing that stood before him was not his beloved Slayer, and he vowed to kill whatever wore her skin and dishonoured her memory.

"It has been long since I walked above ground," she said, dipping her head slightly and smiling at him. "And the circumstances are not far removed."

"My Lord," Miss Kirly breathed, still coming to terms with her success. "You have risen! Finally!"

"Do not address me in such a lowly manner, crony," she snarled.

Kirly whimpered and lowered her head to the floor again, grovelling below her feet. Spike watched all this with growing anger, and leapt at the thing using Buffy's body. Even with his speed his movements seemed slow and clumsy. She merely turned back to face him and swatted him away with barely any effort. He slammed into the book shelves with a force that splintered the wood to pieces and broke a few ribs at the same time. He slowly lifted his head from the ground, moaning softly as he pulled a shard of wood from his shoulder. Snarling, he leapt to his feet, only to find himself once more among the debris after trying to attack her again.

Again and again he assailed her, reminding himself that it wasn't her, that she was dead. Each and every time he was flung back just as effortless, until whatever was in her body tired with the game. When Spike had leapt at her, instead of knocking him back she grabbed him by the neck and held him aloft.

"Stubborn thing, aren't you?" she murmured, her black eyes glittering in amusement. "Or maybe just stupid."

"Sorry, love," Spike returned. "'M not only stubborn and stupid, but I'm damn impossible to get rid of."

She laughed a cold heartless chuckle that sent chills down the spine of the many vampires in the room. Vampires that seemed to instantaneously combust into dust, leaving a layer of grime in the air. When it settled Spike saw Angel, Faith and Oz- in wolf form- standing side by side, stakes ready.

"'Bout time, Peaches, Faithy," he muttered. She gripped his neck tighter, then seemed to think twice and dropped him.

"I do not need to waste time with mere mortals. Come," she said to Kirly. "You have served me well. Give me the knife."

Miss Kirly rose to her feet, trembling slightly, and offered the knife on her two palms. The thing in Buffy's body picked it up tenderly, almost sacredly, and smiled.

Faith stopped short upon seeing Buffy. "What the… I thought Buffy was dead!"

Angel did not have an answer. "I-I don't know."

Spike glanced up at them from the floor, his eyes glistening. His cheeks were wet, but he didn't notice. "She is," he said blankly, the life having gone out of him. "That isn't her. It's-"

"Him," Angel breathed, and Spike closed his eyes and nodded.

"How?" Faith asked.

"By the blood of your dear Slayer," Kirly sneered. "The Slayer's essence comes from the greatest Under Lord to be known, and only with this missing blood can He become whole again and take form."

Faith's blood rushed to her face in fury and she hurled her stake at the Watcher bitch. A hand shot out and caught it only a mere centimetre from her chest, and He- in Buffy's body- smirked. The stake had left His hand before anyone could see it, and it flew through the air and embedded in Oz's chest. He cried out, clutching the wound, and fell to the floor.

Then He held out her hand to Kirly, who took it in a stunned stupor, and the two disappeared in a whirl of black soot.

Angel and Faith rushed to Oz's side, but it was too late. Blood pooled on the library floor, and the red liquid trickled from his mouth. His lifeless eyes were open and glazed, and Angel gently shut them. Faith looked up and caught the brunette vampire's eye. She had seen him angry before. She had seen him afraid before. But never had she seen such fear and fury that permeated his brown eyes right then. Angel was one angry vampire, and someone was about to pay.

Spike winced when he realized the kid was dead, and remembered that he was dating Willow Rosenburg. He dreaded the thought of her finding out. It was something he would not even wish upon his enemies, and now this girl would have to bury her boyfriend.

All thoughts of Buffy were pushed to the back of his head. Now was not the time to grieve for his lost love. After this was over, when he had gotten the unconscious form of Xander to the hospital wing and assured the safety of the other students, not to mention the world, then he would have time to mourn her. Not now, though. He picked up Xander and followed Angel from the library, Faith bringing up the rear. Her eyes never left the limp body in Angel's arms.

Xander suddenly jerked in his arms. "N-No! Buffy!"

Spike placed him back on his feet, supporting him by slinging his arm over Spike's shoulder. "'ey. You're alright now, 'k?"

"N-no…you said it before! You said it!"

"Said what, you idiot?"

Xander pulled away from his grip. "And the only way to save her is to kill her!" he cried, repeating the foretold words. Spike stared at him in shock. "You said it. You said it before."

"And?" Spike pushed.

Angel stopped, having overheard. "The only way to save her… That's it! We kill her- at least, the thing in her body- and we can save her!"

Spike's head began to ring, and he kept a tight check on his hopes. Despite all his attempts, though, they slipped in. Maybe, just maybe, they did have a chance after all…