Good evening, all!

Another installment, for your reading pleasure. A little angst, a lot of action, and some fun arguing. Everything that makes the One, fun!

So, enjoy and let me know what you think!

Cheery Vibes

Nimue

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

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Title: Fifty-Four Minutes (Chapter Forty-One - 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: A slew of things are going on in Spike and Buffy's bedroom, although none of them are of the fun type of naughty. Xander, Gunn and Wes arrive to save the day – or die trying. Willow and Tara make a gruesome discovery. Although not in this order!

Fifty-Four Minutes

"What do you think Wesley was talking about?" Tara asked as she and Willow sifted through a trunk in the upper level that Giles kept locked. Stuff that wasn't to be messed with except in case of dire emergency.

Willow suspected this might be one of those cases.

"I don't know, baby," Willow asked. Tara had heard the story of the first incarnation of the Scoobys' use of the Orb, so she knew what it was for, but with Wesley's reassurance that there was no Angelus, she couldn't fathom why they'd need it.

Tara began to slip some extra ingredients into her bag from the shelves. "You know, Willow, we're probably strong enough together now to bind Angel's soul..."

The redhead stopped her packing and looked over at her mate. "I never even thought of that!"

"Just saying," Tara answered, smiling shyly. "Life... er, unlife too, I guess... is always a little better with..."

"Some hot, sweet, lovin!" Willow completed. "Know what we need?"

"I have an idea," the shyer woman answered. "You think it's okay? I mean, we can ask his permission first."

"I don't think we'll need to."

"Willow?" Tara reprimanded, always on the lookout for lapses into abuse of power with her reformed lover.

Willow sighed. "I meant, I think it's implied, but we can ask. If... if the opportunity arises."

"Good," Tara answered, beginning her search again. "I still wonder what we need the orb for."

"Me too, honey. Me too."

Angel sat on the cold stone of the sarcophagus, her chocolate hair draped over his lap, her heavy head balanced on his thigh.

It had been fifty-four minutes since she died.

Fifty-four minutes.

Since he killed her.

The smell of blood was still fresh, but his stomach roiled it. The smell. He'd wiped her mouth after he'd fed her, hardly able to face what he'd done. What she'd have to do to still be with him. If that was even what she wanted.

If not, he wouldn't do to Cordelia what he'd done to Drusilla. Let her suffer on. He'd be stronger. He'd be like his grandchilde and take the responsibility to let her go.

Absently, he stroked that long, dark hair, watching skin drained of life pale even further, minute to minute. Feeling the last of her warmth seep into cold stone. Thinking of all the things she would miss. Days at the beach. Shopping on Rodeo at lunch. The race of her heart when she got excited.

But if he let her go.... Angel still couldn't fathom the thought.

He'd teach her. Teach her how to live like this. And she wouldn't have the knowledge of thousands of lives ended at her own hands because she'd never have to do that to survive. He'd protect her. Show her straight off the way that he chose – the way that Spike chose.

And the Witches were getting stronger. Maybe, one day, they'd figure out a way to let her sit on the beach on a lazy Saturday, or shop on her lunch break once again.

In the meantime, Angel hoped, Cordelia would want to still be. To still be here. To still be with him. To understand he couldn't let her go. He couldn't stop loving her. Not now. Not yet.

Not ever.

Fifty-four minutes.

With a skid, the three humans appeared in the bedroom door. What met them was a sight they hadn't quite expected.

Spike was sprawled over the bed, one arm extended and holding the wrist of the Master as one would hold the arm of an errant child. Buffy sat on the floor beneath the captured Master, a sword next to her, with an annoyed look on her face.

And an amused Hellgod and ... some other evil entity were approaching the bed with satisfied smirks on their faces.

Xander, being a little more in tune with how things worked in this end of town, scanned the room for something else. A small, blonde, something else crouched on the far end of the room next to the nightstand.

His heart sped up at the sight.

Spike shifted his gaze to the men in the doorway, catching Xander's eye and following the man's gaze. With a quick nod, Spike gave Xander his assignment, and then turned his eyes on the other two.

"Bit of help here?"

The words set off a flurry of activity, as if the pause button had been depressed, and the world began full-tilt. The Master leapt to his feet, pulling Spike into a forward roll off the bed. Buffy ducked down, reading the movements and taking her chance, grabbing the sword as she wriggled away.

Wesley and Gunn darted into the room, heading for Luke and Gwydion. In hindsight, Spike wasn't quite sure that the two humans had known they were about to enter battle with a Hellgod, even one as inept as Luke, but at least they'd be a distraction while the One dealt with the Master. A distraction hopefully smart enough not to get dead.

Angel would probably never forgive him if Spike let two of his Master's finest fall into the waiting jaws of death.

Have to make this quick, then.

As Buffy closed in on the Master, Spike noticed Xander leave the room quietly. Smart bloke, when he wanted to be. Vampire senses heightened, the blond could hear the adjoining bathroom door click open from the hall, and near-silent feet pad over tile to the door back into the bedroom closest to where Emma was crouched in the corner.

But then the battle drew him back.

A primal scream from Buffy as she heaved the sword one handed, amazingly balanced for having her other arm completely unused, and Spike tried to catch her as the Master pushed her back with a flick of the wrist. Stupid git with his unfair uses of magic. And Wes was tied up with the other two morons.

Plan B. "Give me the sword, Love," Spike whispered as she fell back into his chest. She glowered for a moment before he kissed the crown of her head. "Got two arms and have a better chance of knocking him back a bit. Need you to keep him busy so he can't blindside us with the mojo."

She nodded quickly and used her position against Spike to launch herself back into the fray.

Wesley and Gunn were meeting a similar fate as they set upon Luke and Gwydion. Luke had apparently been practicing his skills as a Hellgod and blew the pair back into the edge of the bed with palm held out and a word that neither understood chanted into the dead air of the room. Gwydion slid sideways around Luke and set off towards the corner of the room where Emma hid, watching the doorknob behind her turn slowly.

A crack of thunder and a blinding flash of white light stopped them all in their tracks once again.

"Oh, now what?" Spike complained, sword held high for a blow. "Whatever happened to ordinary battles?"

"Pardon me for interrupting," the Queen snarked back, although no body accompanied the sound. "I felt it only fair that if the darkness could intervene on behalf of their agent..."

"Oh, it's you," Spike answered, earning an eyebrow raise from Buffy. What? She couldn't hear it?, he thought.

"Thank you," she answered the Voice, putting an end to that theory.

"You are welcome," the Queen answered, the white glow extending, searching, finding its targets and effectively freezing them in place. "And thank you for giving Drusilla another chance. Poor, sweet girl."

With a pop, the Voice, the glow, and the Hellgods were gone.

The room was paused again for a moment while Wesley and Gunn panted from the exertion of trying to take on those way out of their league, Xander stood with the door cracked, reaching for Emma, Buffy glared at Spike in stunned disbelief, and the Master was too confused by the complete strangeness of this world to do anything but stand and stare.

"What?" Buffy finally asked.

Spike swallowed. "Think we have something else to deal with first, Pet," he croaked out, more afraid of the conversation to come than he was of the Master Vampire with a pocket full of magic.

"What?" Buffy asked again.

"Watch out!" Gunn screamed as the Master came back into the battle and realized his chances at the prize were growing slim. With a jump, the dark haired Vampire threw himself across the bed, laying out flat in order to get to Emma before Xander could get her through the door.

Xander saw the move, almost anticipated it, and threw the bathroom door open wide, stopping the airborne Vampire just before his prize. Emma screamed and Xander jumped over the body of the stunned Master, scooping the little girl up and beginning a flat run back out through the bathroom.

"One down," Spike whispered to himself as he heaved up the sword once again and began around the bed.

"What?" Buffy asked again, following him towards the stunned Master.

"Hard of hearing, Love?"

Gunn backed away from the scene, thinking how nice it would be to face down opposing Hellgods rather than to be in the middle of an arguing One. Wesley, on the other hand, began to speak, quietly, weaving a spell to neutralize the Master's magic.

"Don't turn this around on me," Buffy retorted. "Did the ... Goddess lady say what I think she said?"

"Battle, Love? Remember? Master Vampire after our daughter?" Spike reminded, hoping it would get her off the subject until he could gather his thoughts and possibly say goodbye to the rest of his family before she killed him.

"He's just laying there," Buffy shot back.

"Perfect time to behead him, Pet."

"Do it and get it over with."

"Oh, so now you want me to carry the sword?"

"Don't pull this Slayer versus Vampire, who's the stronger one crap on me."

"I did no such thing!" Spike retorted.

"You were gonna."

"Was not."

"Was so."

"Love, the One, remember? Shared strength."

"Drusilla?"

Shit, Spike thought. The theory that maybe she didn't hear was now out the window. "I'll explain, Pet."

"How?"

"Battle?"

"You ain't seen nothing yet." Accompanied by an angry glare.

"Uh, guys?" Gunn stated from his place in the darkened corner. "Think he's awake now."

Spike and Buffy spun in perfect unison. Gunn tossed his helm axe, Spike catching it with little effort and handing the sword to Buffy.

"Battle now, argue later?" Spike asked, as the Master rose with a look of murderous rage on his face.

"Battle now," Buffy repeated. "So dead later."

To be contd.