Things Change
Chapter Twelve

"Anya," Buffy called weakly, stumbling into the kitchen.

"Morning, Buffy," Anya said pleasantly. "You'll never guess who got an early flight -" she paused, noticing Buffy gripping the counter, her knees seemingly unable to hold her up. "Are you ok?"

"No," Buffy answered. "I was drugged… Spike's gone… Anya…"

Anya grabbed her shoulders and lowered her to the floor as Buffy passed out again, under the effect of the drug. She glanced up at the older man who had entered the kitchen upon Buffy's arrival.

"It would seem I arrived in the midst of… something?" he frowned at Anya. "Why is she wearing lace - no, don't tell me."

"She was boinking Spike," Anya informed him helpfully. "He's back - with a soul - and Todd and Chrissy know all about him. Now he's missing and Buffy's stoned."

"I think 'stoned' is a little strong, Anya," Giles said, smiling fondly at her. "Where there signs of a break - Anya?"

"Vengeance," she said suddenly. "Really strong. Someone was after Spike for vengeance."

"Oh," Giles said, lifting Buffy and carrying her into the living room. "Well, this is just… splendid."

"Splendid?" Anya echoed. "Giles, I said vengeance, on Spike. Spike who is boinking Buffy! This is in no way splendid!"

"I was using sarcasm, Anya."

"Woah. Grandpa Giles with sarcasm and no tweed. What's that ab - Mom?" Chrissy pushed past Giles and bent over her mother who was resting on the couch. Her body was glowing slightly and things were rattling on shelves.

"Grandpa Giles? You're here, I thought you weren't - what's going on?"

"Todd," Giles began. "It seems your mother has been drugged."

Todd grabbed a photo before it shuddered off the coffee table and frowned at Giles.

"Where's Dad?"

Giles paused.

"Uh, Dad?" he asked. "Oh. Spike. He's…."

"Missing," Anya stated. "Spike's missing."

"Missing!" Chrissy screeched.

"Missing," Buffy mumbled as she sat up, her hand pressed to her head. "Call Willow. She can do a locator spell. I've got to find him."

"Find who?" Dawn asked, her arm draped casually around Josh's waist. "Oh. Is something major going down?"

They turned and frowned at her.

"How'd you…?" Todd started.

"She's floating three feet in the air, Todd, dead give-away."

They looked back at Buffy who was indeed floating three foot in the air, glowing all over.

"Oh."

"Missing?" Xander stated for the fifteenth time, his eyebrows raised in doubt. "You sure he didn't just take off? You know, like he did sixteen years ago?"

"No," Chrissy told him coldly. "He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't leave Mom."

Xander opened his mouth, but it snapped shut and he glared at Buffy.

"Hey! No glowy powers to be used on friends, we agreed, remember?"

"Xander," Buffy warned.

Willow rolled her eyes and Buffy turned back to her, her own version of "resolve face" firmly in place.

"Just put your hands there," Willow explained. "And concentrate."

Buffy nodded and placed her hands on Spike's black shirt which they had retrieved from her bedroom floor.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, focusing all her energy on Spike and where he was. She heard the low gasp she assumed came from Josh when she felt her body warm as it glowed and she left the ground. Keeping her eyes firmly closed; she concentrated on Spike, where he was, wanting to find him.

When she landed back on the carpet again, she kept her eyes closed and her fists clenched in the fabric of his shirt. It was only when Willow tapped her gently and pulled the shirt away that Buffy finally opened her eyes. She stayed on the floor, lifting her arms when Chrissy and Todd came to sit next to her. She smiled lightly when she saw Josh nursing sore ribs he received from Anya's elbow when he gasped.

She waited expectantly, watching with a slight frown as Giles and Xander flanked Willow and stared at the map created on the shirt.

"What's wrong?" Chrissy asked.

"Aunt Willow?" Todd asked hesitantly. "Uncle Xander? Grandpa Giles?"

"You know the place," Buffy stated. "Where is it?"

"Uh, Buffy," Giles started. "Maybe you should sit - well, tell the children to leave, perhaps?"

"Children?" Chrissy repeated, sharing a look with Todd.

"We haven't been 'children' since we were ten, Grandpa Giles," Todd told him.

"Well, I don't think you should be around for - Buffy!" Buffy had jumped up and crossed the room, wrenching the shirt from his hands and studying it.

"No," she muttered. "No," she looked up at her friends. "But just because it's there, doesn't mean it's her though, does it?"

"I…" Giles tailed off. "I really don't know."

"Who?" Dawn demanded. "Who?"

When her sister turned to look at her, Dawn recognised the expression on her face as the one she wore when she jumped into the portal. Dawn shook her head and grabbed Josh's sleeve.

"It can't be her!" she screeched. "She can't be back! She can't have Spike!"

"Who?" Chrissy asked. "Who can't have Dad?"

"Mom!" Todd cried.

Buffy turned to face her children, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Suddenly, the twins saw why the Scooby Gang had been so successful in their battles against evil.

Their mother stood in the middle, arms folded, face grim but a determined look glinted in her eyes. A look only a pissed Slayer had.

She was flanked by her best friends, Willow and Xander, also grim, but determined.

Giles stood behind her and they could see from his face that he was weighing up the how's and why's of the situation.

Anya's fists were clenched, but she was smiling weakly at the twins, trying to reassure them slightly.

Their Aunt Dawn's expression was one of abject horror, but there was fierceness in it that echoed Buffy's expression and reminded the twins she had trained as a Slayer.

Josh stood to one side, watching as Buffy opened her mouth to explain.

Explain what? she asked herself. How do you explain to your children that a Hell Goddess, that was supposed to be long gone seems to be back and has their father?

Buffy didn't know. She didn't have words. She only had one.

"Glory," she said flatly.

"Had enough, sugar?" Glory asked, not looking at him as she slid a shoe onto her foot, studying how it looked before discarding it and looking up. "You know, I could make it go away."

"Screw… you," he sputtered, glaring at her, squinting slightly as blood dripped into his left eye.

"Oooo! I thought I'd knocked that rudeness out of you. Guess I'll have to hit you harder."

She stood and moved towards him with that incredible speed that had stunned him the first time he had seen it. He had heard her and the Jackal talking and apparently, she was weaker and slower.

Spike couldn't really see the difference.

Her fist stopped inches from his face and she smiled. The fist uncurled and wiped the blood from his cheek.

"I could make it stop. All you gotta do is bring me your brats. Then it'll stop, precious."

"Why?" he asked. "You want… them… Why?"

"You don't need to know that," she told him. "Are you ready to give up yet?"

"No," he answered stubbornly.

"Ok," she shrugged and grabbed one of the long railroad spikes from the table. She ran her fingers over it and smirked at him before thrusting it into his stomach. "Just say uncle," she told him sweetly.

She gave the spike a vicious twist and his screams of agony filled the room once more.