Hi, all!

YAY! On time! What's next? Actually finishing the story?

Drama is coming to a peak, but I think I'll make you wait a bit longer on the fate of our dear Cordelia.

Hang on to your hats!

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Cheery Vibes

Nimue

"Though she be but little, she is fierce." William Shakespeare – A Midsummer Night's Dream

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Title: Missing Tuesday (Chapter Forty - Meant to Be)

Author: Nimue

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Spike/Buffy (Most major characters included)

Feedback: Yes, please NimueofAvalon71 (at)

Disclaimer: All characters belong to someone other than me; they belong to Mutant Enemy, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel the Series, Fox, UPN, WB, their affiliates, lawyers and all sorts of other folks that aren't me. :::sigh::::

Summary: Xander and company make it back to the house just in time to find Willow. Buffy and the Master come face to face.

Missing Tuesday

It all came together in a flash.

At least, that is what it felt like to Buffy.

A shift in the very fabric of reality. Then again, knowing their lives, that was completely possible. Energy filled her as she waited for the knob to turn. Spread through her like white lightning as the air filled with static air and the sky ripped open and flooded her with light.

At least, that's how it felt.

Screams from outside. Men, she thought. Familiar. The pounding of feet. The staccato rhythm of more than just her heartbeat.

A black stain on reality that she couldn't quite identify. And the stench of death.

"Will!" Xander screamed as they approached the lawn. The Witch lay crumpled on the pavement, surrounded by the fading effects of old magic.

"Damn, what is it with you people and accidents?" Gunn sniped, running towards the girl just behind Xander.

"Hazard of the Hellmouth," Xander answered almost casually. It would bother him later that tragedy seemed almost de rigueur to him.

Wesley arrived at the fallen girl first, dropping to his knees and sliding warm fingers to her neck. A strong, steady beat pounded under his fingers. He sighed with relief. "She's unconscious, but alive," the former Watcher called out calmly. "Smelling salts would be of assistance."

"Or Xander could just wave a 'pit over her face," Gunn chided, earning himself a mild punch from the Sunnydale native.

"She's okay?" Xander confirmed as Wesley began to right the girl, sitting her up against him and checking for injuries. Nothing but a nasty bump to the back of her head.

"It looks as though she had a slight collision with the concrete, but she should be fine in no time." As the words left Wes's lips, Willow stirred, groaning loudly as her body began to sense the aches of the flesh.

"Tara," the redhead whispered, rubbing the back of her head. "Tara."

With a knowing nod, Xander darted off towards the house, scanning the lawn as he went. Something told him that the Master would not have taken the girl inside. Too much of a liability with that much power. Sometimes that old military stuff in his head came in handy.

Instead, he ducked behind trees and shrubs, thinking, knowing, she'd be out there somewhere.

And he was right.

At the far edge of the front lawn, he found her, curled tightly into a ball and surrounded by a glow he wasn't sure he should be touching. But, being a child of the Hellmouth and therefore convinced he would probably, eventually, find out what touching it would feel like anyway, he reached towards the girl.

And flew back, landing on his backside on the grass.

"Uh, Wes?"

Wesley looked up from tending to the girl in his lap. "Yes, Xander?"

"I think there's... well... you know magic too, right?"

"Yes, Xander."

"Uh, with the force field, and the knocking you on your ass, and this one's all yours."

"Is she okay?" Willow groaned as Wes disentangled himself from beneath her and Gunn slid into his place, holding the redhead off the ground.

Wesley strode across the lawn to where Xander sat, watching the shy Witch begin to stir under what amounted to a spider web of light. "She looks to be, Willow. However, she's been subdued magically."

"What does it look like?" Willow asked, trying to sit up under her own steam and flopping back into Gunn's waiting arms.

"Looks like a web made of teeny Christmas lights," Xander answered, still not managing to stand again. Between the running and the fall, not to mention the fight that came before, the grass was feeling like a Sleep Number Bed at the moment.

Willow nodded, and grimaced at the sensation of the contents of her brain shifting. "Cut it."

"With scissors? Or... or like pruning shears?" Xander called back.

"Magically," Wesley groaned, lowering himself to a crouch a few feet from Tara. "All right. Do you know the source of the Master's power?"

"Not the source," Willow called back. "But I can tell you it's ancient. Probably European in origin. Try Ariadne."

"Are you two speaking in English?" Gunn asked. "Or is this part of the Hellmouth experience too?"

"No, because I don't understand it either," Xander called back. "I think it's like ancient magic speak."

"Oh, that," Gunn replied, absently stroking Willow's hair back from her face.

With a deep, steadying breath, Wesley began to chant in some language Xander could identify only as one he didn't speak. Which was almost all of them. Except English. Most of the time. And whatever demon swearwords his wife used when she didn't want Xander to know she'd lost her patience.

The web began to unravel as if giant, invisible shears were cutting the strings. It was slow, but it was unraveling all the same.

A crack of thunder and a flash of white light from inside the house drew all of their attentions, and with a surge of will, Wesley ripped the web, falling back to the grass as the girl inside stirred and awoke.

"Willow?"

Xander jerked his head towards his best friend. "Over there."

"Kids?"

That got Xander's attention. "Will? Uh, where are the litters?"

"Safe," Willow answered, not wanting to articulate the answer with what was going on inside. "Not here."

Another flash and the sound of wood cracking inside. "Uh, maybe we should...." Gunn began.

"Saddle up?" Xander asked, pulling himself up off the ground and facing the house that was nearly shaking under the weight of what was happening inside.

Willow stood, with some help from Gunn, as Wesley pulled Tara to her feet. "I don't know if I can...." Willow began.

"You're needed elsewhere," Wesley commented as he and Tara drew closer to the rest of the group. Thoughts of what Angel was going through, whether Cordy made it.... This Master didn't stand a chance against a pissed-off One, and Willow and Tara might be able to help in another way.

"Where?" Tara asked.

"Stop at the Magic Shop. Did Rupert keep, or obtain, another Orb...." Wesley began.

Willow gasped. "Is... is Angelus...?"

Wesley shook his head. "No, but you will need one. As well as any supplies you can find that will help in that endeavour."

"But, no Angelus?" Willow confirmed.

"No," Wesley answered. "You will be safe. But please, please trust me."

"Where do we go from there?" Tara asked, trying to sort her mind into a working state.

"Get everything you need and head to Spike's old crypt. Angel will be there and he will explain. He's waiting for you and time is of the essence," Wesley commanded, watching the girls nod and head towards the closest vehicle. If they were going to try to pull off something magical after the day they had both had, using their driving skills was probably the only way there.

"Careful, Wills," Xander called after, entranced by, and a little afraid of, the light show coming from the second floor of the house.

"Always," Willow called back, climbing into Angel's car. Keys in the ignition. Yeah, who'd steal it anyway?

Another loud crack from inside. "Shall we?" Wesley asked as Gunn leaned down for the helm axe he'd dropped when aiding Willow.

"No better time than the present," Gunn answered.

"Except for Tuesday," Xander chided, as they all started down the walk. "I've always liked Tuesday."

With a crash, as if the turning of the knob was just for show, the Master appeared in the room, shards of broken door splintering at all angles. Buffy ducked, shielding her eyes from the fallout, and turned her head to make sure no nasty piece of wood had embedded itself into her beloved's heart.

Did that still work?

Either way, he was okay and Emma was tucked behind him.

"Stupid trick for a Vampire," Buffy argued, straightening. "You know, with the severe wood allergy."

The Master reached up, lowering his hood to reveal a handsome, boyish face. Like an Eighties teen actor or something. Handsome and wholesome and completely unlike the kind of creature she thought should be wielding such power.

"Such things do not affect me anymore," the Master answered, humour in his voice as he looked down at the stake in her hand.

"Oh," the Slayer answered, a pang of fear nowhere near the size she thought it should be, clenching in her belly. Maybe the Hellmouth had finally jaded her.

The Master looked around. "I am Zahn, of the order of Carnelian. The eldest Master remaining on the planet. "

"Thanks for the intro," Buffy replied, stalling, trying to think of anything else she might have handy. Stakes might not work, but she had yet to meet a Vampire who wouldn't go with a good beheading.

"I've come for the Peacemaker and the Key. I sense that the latter is not here. For some reason, I cannot sense her at all anymore..."

"Go, Willow," Buffy replied under her breath.

"What was that?"

"Not here," the woman said out loud. "Sorry."

The Master nodded. "But I do believe that my prize lies right here. Silent as a lamb." He looked to the bed, eyeing Emma as a hungry wolf would size up prey. "She is still in her human form. Even better."

"We kinda like her that way," Buffy remarked. Damn. Where did Spike put that machete after patrol the other night?

"She is not truly yours, you know. You should not rue your parting," the creature began again, shucking his coat from his form and folding it neatly before placing it on a chair. Underneath, he was wearing simple, Vampire-ish attire. Black fitted pants. A black, matte shirt, buttoned to the high collar. Nothing quite as flashy as Angelus or as low key as Spike, but they all must have the same stylist.

Buffy let her broken arm rest across her belly in a protective gesture. "Well, a few months growing inside of me and a life and death delivery sort of beg to differ. She's ours."

"I'd forgotten what it was like to be human," the Master commented, pacing near the door. He shrugged, sighing. "Either way, she will leave with me. "

"No," Buffy answered simply. "Really, not."

Again, the Master sighed. "I don't see why you fret. You've another. Not to mention the child of shifting soul inside."

That got her attention. "What? How do you...? What do you mean?"

A chuckle was her response. "I'd love to see your reaction when you've been informed."

"Huh?" It was all becoming a little too much for her at this point. She was expecting an epic battle, not a chit-chat about her offspring. He wasn't about to tell her anything, either way. "Look, Zahn, you can creep me out all you want, but you're not taking Emma."

"The Peacemaker."

"My daughter."

"I'm afraid I am. And, without your mate, and with your... human limitations," he nodded at her arm, "you are hardly in a position to stop me."

The Slayer gritted her teeth. "Then I'll die trying."

"As you wish," the Vampire responded and took a step toward her, raising his hand.

A crack, and the air shifted. Two beings appeared in the corner. Buffy didn't have time to turn and look, only to take the chance and run at the Master, landing a perfect roundhouse and knocking him back into the hallway. The Master was stunned, but regained composure, scanning the hall and the doorway, trying to see what had happened. Buffy rushed again, barely hearing the second crack and the flash of white light behind her as she ran at the creature with all momentum behind her.

With a flick of the wrist, the Master pushed her back, magic crackling in the air. She reeled against the doorway, steadying herself as he advanced. With a flourish, he drew a sword from his belt.

That might work, Buffy thought, trying to formulate a plan to get it away from him before he decided that a skewered Slayer was the best Slayer. She ducked as he brought the metal down at her and kicked him back, trying to maintain balance with only one arm. But he was too fast, catching her bad shoulder and driving her to the floor.

Buffy rolled, swiping her feet under the Master's and bringing him to his knees, unfortunately, on top of her shins. Not good. He raised the sword again, aiming it at her throat as she thought wildly about how to get out from under him. How to get the sword away. How to protect Emma. Spike.

"No, you don't," came the welcome voice from above, and Buffy saw a hand dart out from the side of the bed and grab the wrist of the Master, twisting it until he dropped the sword. "Not nice to pick on wounded Slayers."

"Spike?" Her voice was full of relief.

"Hey, Love. Told you not to take him on alone."

A fearsome glare shot from her eyes to his. "Uh, not much choice, Sleeping Beauty."

He was silent for a moment, holding the Vampire's arm and scanning the room. "Love?"

"What now?"

"We've got another problem."

"What?"

"Noticed a portal from Hell opening recently?" Spike asked, pushing the Vampire back, allowing Buffy to wriggle out from underneath.

"So that's what it was!" the Master commented, still a bit taken aback by the surprise awakening of the other half of the One and the complete surrealism of this life.

"There was some noise," Buffy answered honestly.

"Bugger," Spike groaned, watching the two forms step out of the darkness. "Seems as though we've got company, Pet. " A pause. "More company."

"Hey, sweet pea," Luke chanted, waving at Buffy as she climbed up from the floor. "We've come for our girl – Emma."

"Emma."

To be contd.